Organization: Penn State University Date: Wed, 3 Feb 1993 16:25:42 EST From: Message-ID: <93034.162542MRM122@psuvm.psu.edu> Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative Subject: Trinity Leap, Part 2 Lines: 122 Continuing on... TRINITY LEAP Part Two Al's vision cleared from the haze of blue that surrounded him. "It worked!" he thought. Then he looked about himself. He was in a large cavern, dimly lit by sunlight some distance away. There was something familiar about the cavern, but he couldn't put his finger on it. In fact he couldn't put his finger on anything, even what it was that he thought worked. He thought about it for a while, then gave up. "At least Sam is safe." he mumbled. Sam! Dr. Sam Beckett, who designed... something. A government project, Al was sure of that, but what it was was far out of Al's brain. Nothing in his head worked right. He decided to find his way out of the cavern. By following the sunlight, he was quickly out of it. He surveyed the surrounding desert, and it was all quite familiar to him. "New Mexico," he thought, "I know this is New Mexico. But something isn't right. That dirt road should be a highway, and that should be a city, not a collection of makeshift buildings." The only logical course of action seemed to be to walk to this makeshift town. Something in the back of his brain told him he should know what this is- something he should remember, but couldn't. Perhaps going there would stir a memory. As he got closer, he could see various military jeeps and Army men walking about. "I could be involved in this," thought Al, "I am an Admiral, after all." That clicked something in his mind, "Admiral Al Calavicci! That's my name!" It didn't help matters much, but it made Al feel better. He was approaching the camp. The duty guard at the gate looked at him in confusion. "Admiral, sir?" he asked. "Do you know me?" asked Al. "No sir," said the guard, slightly confused, "We weren't expecting any more top brass to show up this week. Definitely not on foot, sir, and without luggage." "Well, I've only just arrived," said Al, "My luggage is, uh, missing. This is... the project?" "Of course it is, sir. I apologize that we didn't know you were coming. We would have sent a jeep to get you. Walking in this desert must have been pretty bad, sir." "It wasn't so bad, once you get used to it." "Nonetheless, it shouldn't have been neccessary, sir. I'll assign you to some quarters and we'll try and find your luggage as soon as we can." Another guard was called over, and the two confered for a short time, and the new guard led Al to some very Spartan and small quarters, which were probably high living at a place like this. "Will that be all, sir?" asked the new guard. "Yeah, kid... no wait. Is Dr. Sam Beckett here?" "I don't know all the scientists here, sir. You can ask Dr. Oppenheimer when you see him." "Doctor Oppenheimer? Did I hear you right?" "Yes sir. Is that all?" "Yes, son. Get out of here." The guard left. Al sat down to think. Everything was nagging in the back of his head. He knew that all this was supposed to mean something to him, but he couldn't remember what. "OK, chances are I am supposed to be here, as a military observer," he thought, the word 'observer' striking a note in his brain as being correct, "And I've suffered some form of partial amnesia. It might be best to go with everything until I can remember what I am supposed to do." In a little while, a man in an army uniform with markings of a General came into Al's quarters. "Admiral?" the man asked, extending his hand, "Leslie Groves." "Al Calavicci," said Al, taking the man's hand, "Pleased to meet you, General." "I must say, I am a little surprised you are here," said General Groves, "We weren't expecting anyone from the Navy until later in the week. We won't be ready to test until at least then, according to Oppie." "Oppie?" asked Al, a little confused. "Doctor Oppenheimer," said the General, "That's what most people call him." "Oppie, right, of course. Oppie." "So until the test, you don't have too much to do. Feel free to look about the facilities and ask what you will. I'll even arrange a tour for you. I understand your luggage was lost, though?" Al nodded. "We'll see what we can do about finding you some clothes. The won't be a Navy uniform, but they'll be clean. I guess your papers were with your luggage, right?" "I guess so," said Al. "Oh well, it will show up soon, I'm sure. You have a good night, Admiral. Oh, and welcome to the Trinity Project." He left. Trinity Project. The words drummed in Al's mind over and over, and didn't seem right. The Trinity Project was an experiment in nuclear weapons in 1945. Al was involved in a Time Travel project in 1999, called Quantum Leap. "That's it!" thought Al, "Quantum Leap, in which one can travel through time within their own lifetime, which was concieved by Doctor Sam Beckett." But Sam was the one stuck in the past, and Al would talk to him from the future. But this was 1945, the past. Was Sam in the future, then, or were they both stuck in the past now? Al tried to remember. The plane was crashing, and Sam was unconscious, and the only to save him was to... what? It involved electricity... lightning! If he and Sam were struck by lightning, they would Leap at the same time, he remembered. That's what must have happened. So Sam must be home. Al hoped so, at least. "Sir?" asked a young officer at his door. "Yes, son?" asked Al. "Telegram, sir." "A telegram came for me?" Al asked, quite surprised. "Well, sir, it is from the Navy Headquarters, so I figured it must pertain to you. Here you are, sir." He handed Al the telegram and left. Al slowly opened it and read it. TO: TRINITY PROJECT REGRET THAT I CANNOT JOIN YOU FOR TEST STOP PLEASE DO NOT DELAY ON MY ACCOUNT STOP CONTINUE AS PLANNED STOP ADMIRAL J FITZPATRICK Al crumpled up the telegram. He now knew for sure: He was not supposed to be here. He only hoped someone from the future would show up soon and tell him what he was doing... More to Come...  Marshall Ryan Maresca