Quantum Leap: The Virtual Seasons // The Tenth Season Archives

It was a process that had been done so many times before that his awareness of it had become a mental reflex reaction; on his way again, he knew, journeying along a string that took him to wherever… and whenever. It was amazing to him that one thing, the realization of Leaping, always stood out in front of all the thoughts and images that flashed before him.

Of all the memories that he could remember, the sensation of Leaping out into the blue void was one he always looked forward to and embraced. It made sense to the Leaper that the blue emptiness served as a cocoon, a womb that sustained him in an attempt to prepare him for what would lie ahead.

The Leaper knew that he would eventually arrive at his destination, someplace where he could leave the blue void and make a destiny of his own - a place he knew vaguely as “Home”.

‘Home! It wasn’t fair!’ Sam knew that he had been “Home” before in more than one sense of the word. Dimly, his consciousness recalled a time he returned as his teenage self to the farm of his boyhood home in Elk Ridge, Indiana. An instant later, his mind remembered being “Home” in Stallion’s Gate, New Mexico. He recalled there being a woman waiting for him, but he couldn’t remember her name. All he could picture was himself donning a Fermi suit and entering the Accelerator.

‘Accelerator!? Why the hell can I remember that and not the woman who haunts me every time I’m between Leaps? And why do I instantly forget her the minute I leave the blue void?’

Doctor Beckett constantly dreamed of coming “Home” once again. Even in that bodiless state, floating in the void, he could still piece together the small amount of thoughts contained in his swiss-cheesed mind. ‘I’ve saved enough lives haven’t I? Changed enough history for the better? Made the world a better place?’ Sam had his own life to lead without trying to live through the lives of others. This Leaping business was growing tiresome and he wanted to put an end to it. Although he had been lucky many times before, he still had to remind himself that eventually there would come a time when failure to successfully complete a Leap would result in permanent exile in the past. Sam’s link to the present, Admiral Al Calavicci, would say that success had nothing to do with leaping. Sam was starting to think otherwise.

‘What if God or Fate or Time gives up on me? What if I am just a toy, something of amusement that has become boring and obsolete?’ But Sam knew that there was a key out there that would allow him to control his own destiny. He needed to find it soon. His chance to return “Home” seemed to be getting slimmer with each Leap.

Suddenly, a familiar sense of euphoria struck him full force. It was time once again to emerge from the blue void. Time to hope that once again he would be “Home” with his friends and family.

It seemed like forever until Sam was able to figure out anything regarding his surroundings. The first thing he realized was that he was lying in a small trench two feet deep. His throat was immensely dry and his mouth was full of sand. After a few poor attempts, he managed to spit some of it out. Finally, with a certain degree of exertion, Sam brought himself to an upright position in the trench.

Heat and swirling wind hit him in a one-two attack. The sand kicked up by the swirling breeze made it very hard to see. Squinting his eyes against the sand and brilliant sun, Doctor Beckett barely managed to see what was all around him. It didn’t take a genius like Dr. Beckett to realize he was in the middle of a desert.

‘This desert reminds me of a place that I’ve been to before, the Leaper thought to himself. A base in the middle of a desert…in New…Mexico? Yeah, that’s right! A desert in New Mexico. The place where Project Quantum Leap was located. Am I “Home”?’

But Sam knew he wasn’t “Home”, not if he was outside in the desert. His final Leap would be back inside the Waiting Room as himself at Project Quantum Leap Headquarters. Besides, the sweaty clothes of old green military fatigues were not part of the uniform he had worn upon entering the Accelerator. He wasn’t “Home” by a long shot, but he did feel terribly lonely. With a lot of effort, Sam climbed out of the ditch, amazed by how tired he suddenly felt.

“Hello!” he screamed, knowing that he had made a mistake. His dry throat was now worse than ever and his lungs ached as though he was gasping for air.

As if in answer, a gigantic loudspeaker, set some distance away shouted, “…Forty-five seconds…” The noise startled Sam and continued to do so as the voice echoed and finally died away.

Another noise startled Sam. It was a familiar whooshing sound. It could only mean one thing and it brought a sigh of relief from the Leaper.

“Sam!” a rasping voice addressed him frantically. “Thank God we were able to lock on to you. Sam, you gotta listen to me…”

“Al?” The Leaper’s voice cracked. It was almost impossible to speak. He turned in time to see his friend Al Calavicci, dressed in a bright teal suit, walk through the Imaging Chamber Door. It closed behind Al with another whoosh. Oddly enough, Sam noticed that the Door closed in an unusual way that seemed to shake Al up.

Sam could tell that his friend was in a hurry. The Hologram had a look of horrific urgency on his face that made Sam’s skin crawl. Maybe this would be a dangerous but fast Leap.

“Sam, I really don’t have time to explain.” The Admiral was talking in his military voice, barking orders to Sam like a new recruit. The Leaper knew to trust his partner. Al continued, shielding his eyes from the image of the hot desert sun, “Ziggy says there is a ditch around here. Get in it, NOW!!”

Sam nodded, suddenly overcome by a coughing fit. The winds were starting to pick up now as Sam barely heard the loudspeaker shout again.

Putting his hands to his eyes to block out the gritty sand particles, Sam made his way to the ditch. Al was pointing at the ditch and shouting. The Admiral’s hand movements, especially the one holding the lit cigar, made Sam want to scream for Al to tell him what was going on. Suddenly, Sam noticed something cylindrical off in the distance, standing upright behind Al. The object seemed to stretch from the ground to the sky. Quickly, a memory of an old history class lesson came to him -- images of soldiers sitting out in deserts waiting for explosions from a distance away to embrace them. Soldiers that were part of experiments in nuclear weapons testing…and then it hit Sam what the object was…

Sam panicked, thinking of what his options were. There was no time to plan an escape route. The desert seemed to stretch around him for miles. As tired as he was now feeling, running at top speed, the desert would surely claim him if the blast didn’t first. One tiny thought pushed its way to the front of Sam’s mind: ‘Get in that ditch!!!’

Out of the corner of his eye, the Leaper saw Al race to where the Imaging Chamber Door should have been located. After hurriedly tapping a few buttons on the handlink, Al cursed under his breath before yelling, “Edward!!! Open the Door!!!” After a pause, yelled again, “What do you mean it’s jammed?! Open it!” Another pause, then, “Then center me somewhere else away from here….Edward!” Sam could hear the intense nervousness in his friend’s voice.

Quickly, Al ran back to Sam. “I can’t break off the visual link or leave the Imaging Chamber.” With that, Al threw himself on the ground, or rather the floor of the Imaging Chamber, and buried his face in his arms. Al wasn’t physically there, but because of the neural link with Sam inside the Imaging Chamber, he was forced to see and hear what Sam was about to experience, and Al didn’t want to be near what was about to happen.

By reflex, Sam threw himself into the ditch and covered his face with his arms. “OH, GOD!!!” he screamed just as the countdown reached its conclusion, resulting in a tremendous explosion, a searing red light, tremendous amounts of heat, and powerful gusts of wind.

Sam didn’t notice that just as the blinding flash of the explosion occurred, the image of Al on the desert floor vanished. The Leaper was too busy trying to hear himself over the noise of the hell that was enveloping him, and failing to hear his screams.

The helicopter flew in low over the dark desert terrain. The searchlight mounted on the front of the aerial machine cut through the evening shroud that hid the ground below. The pilot knew that the mountain was around somewhere. Noticing a faint glow on the horizon, he banked the copter to the right.

The pilot was very nervous about his cargo. It wasn’t every day that a big-shot general grabbed an off-duty pilot and forced him into flying a midnight mission. Whatever this was all about, the pilot knew that someone was in a big heap of trouble.

The General strained his head forward in the passenger seat, trying to make out the glowing shape that loomed ahead. Pointing to a string of lights that dotted the desert floor a few miles ahead, the General ordered the pilot to land there. The pilot nodded his head in acknowledgment and began preparations for landing.

It was bound to happen sooner or later, Edward St. John VI, the replacement head-programmer thought to himself. He looked upward towards the glowing sphere of light inching closer in the sky. He wished that Al was standing out here by the landing pad to get chewed out by General Hawkins. The Admiral had a knack for holding his own against military bigwigs.

Standing in the evening desert air, the head-programmer recalled the events that led to this moment. Sinjin, as everyone seemed to be calling St. John these days, had won the honor of greeting the General by default. When news of the General’s arrival had spread throughout the Project, everyone reacted quickly. Dr. Beeks, the Project psychologist, suddenly had to go see who the new Visitor was in the Waiting Room. Al, the logical choice, chose that moment to make contact with Dr. Beckett and entered the Imaging Chamber. Tina Martinez-O’Farrell, a quirky but intelligent Quantum Leap technician ran off to do her nails. Sam’s wife, Donna Elesee-Beckett, and his daughter Sammy Jo Fuller were at a Senate committee meeting in Washington D.C, fighting the military’s orders concerning the Project. All of the military personnel went scurrying to do various cleaning and straightening chores.

A bit frightened and angered by his friends’ betrayal, Sinjin finally resolved himself to the task of playing host for the General. He’d rather spend eternity getting rejected by Al, but there was little choice in the matter. Sighing, Sinjin prepared for the slaughter and was about to leave the Control Room to go outside when a female disembodied voice simply stated, “Sinjin, there is a problem.”

“What seems to be the problem, Ziggy?” the head-programmer replied, looking at the giant blue sphere of swirling light and energy that hung from the Control Room ceiling.

The swirling energy inside the sphere seemed to pause briefly. Of late, Ziggy was experiencing a HAL-9000 complex. To self-aware computers, it was the fear of being disconnected. Ziggy seemed to pull herself together after a few seconds. “I have the Admiral on speaker now.”

“…Edward…” Sinjin winced at hearing Al’s voice over the static. He was quite comfortable with everyone calling him Sinjin, everyone but Al. The Admiral seemed to take a non-conformist stance and would only call him Edward, as if to keep things professional and distant. The head programmer knew it was awkward to have a crush on a married man, and was starting to believe that Al must be catching on to his feelings. After more static and hissing, Sinjin made out the words, “…Edward…open…Door..”

Sinjin ran over to the multi-colored console that regulated the Accelerator. “Ziggy, I’ve got a red light on the Imaging Chamber Door controls.”

“No need for redundancy, Sinjin, I believe that is what I have been communicating to you.”

The head-programmer didn’t have time to argue with an egotistical computer, especially when its superiority complex kicked in. With a deep stressful breath, he pushed a button on the console. “Admiral, we are experiencing a malfunction. The Imaging Chamber Door is jammed.”

There was more static on Al’s end and then, “…Jammed…mean the damn Door is jammed…?”

Frantically, Sinjin hit a few more buttons on the console. Ignoring the comment from Ziggy about the attempt being a waste of time, he shouted, “Admiral, the override is not working.”

“It’s not your fault, Ziggy.” The Quantum Leap technician was surprised that the computer was displaying this type of emotion. An apology from Ziggy was like him having a day where no women wasted their time trying to hit on him. He shook his head in confusion.

“It is entirely my fault, Sinjin. I was afraid to admit it before now but I think there was a power drain just a few moments ago. I tried to compensate by taking power from the lower levels were Dr. Beckett’s abandoned laboratories are located.”

Sinjin nodded. As Head-Programmer, he was very aware of the power problems of late. Things were getting very hectic around the Project and the arrival of the military made it worse.

The sound of heavy breathing reached his ears and he turned around to see Tina burst into the room, holding up her newly polished nails. Sinjin was surprised that she didn’t swallow her gum the way she ran in.

“I got your message in my room, Ziggy,” Tina panted, “What happened to Al?”

Again, the energy in the sphere paused as Ziggy seemed uncomfortable with the question. “The Admiral has become trapped in the Imaging Chamber.”

Another pause of the sphere. Ziggy’s condition was getting worse, Tina knew, but she pushed it aside for the moment. “It is because of the conditions of the Leap.” The computer replied.

“Power is being drained from me daily, making it impossible to maintain all functions of the Project with a hundred percent efficiency. The only word in my database that describes what I am feeling is senility. And just now because of Dr. Beckett’s current location and events, the circuitry link between the Imaging Chamber and myself has been reconfigured,”

Tina and Sinjin exchanged looks. Taking care of Ziggy and the Accelerator were their chief duties. To have problems with one duty was enough to warrant a double work shift. Having both duties in trouble meant a catastrophic crisis.

“A decision had to be made. Although they are both currently safe, Doctor Beckett and Admiral Calavicci were both near ground zero of an atomic blast...”

“That is correct. I read the atomic blast as a possible collapse of the Radium Accelerator Rings surrounding the Imaging Chamber.”

To Tina, it was déjà vu all over again. There was a Leap years back when Sam and Al were involved in an accident with a bolt of lightning. Ziggy had misread the lightning strike, sealing off the Imaging Chamber and trapping the two men inside. The accident also had caused a role reversal sending Al as a Leaper back to 1945 and allowing Sam to return to Quantum Leap as the Observer. Sam had devised a way for Al to send a message to Ziggy in the future with the code to override the Imaging Chamber Door. But Tina wondered how the code would get to Ziggy this time. When Dr. Beckett was at the Project last, he changed the code before entering the Accelerator for the second time to save Al in the past. No one was told the new code.

“It is a simple mistake to correct.” the computer continued, “All I need is the code.”

This time the wince came to Tina’s face. “Ziggy, Dr. Beckett changed the code.”

“That presents a problem then.” Without skipping a beat, Ziggy simply stated, “I might add that the General’s helicopter will be landing in ten point four minutes.”

Tina walked over to the console, “Sinjin, go ahead and meet with the General. I’m gonna try to get Al free of the Imaging Chamber.”

The Head-Programmer nodded, a bit intrigued at Tina’s efforts to rescue Al. In another time and place, he would have thought it funny that he and Tina were vying for the attentions of a married man. Especially, the other day when Beth had accused Al of flirting at a restaurant in town. Al had denied it all, saying that his hand accidentally brushed against the other woman’s. Shaking his head, Sinjin made his way to the elevator that would take him to the landing pad.

With a start, he awoke from his recollection of recent events and took a step back from the landing platform. He was so caught up in replaying the last hour in his mind that he almost didn’t notice the helicopter starting its landing cycle. There was so much sand kicking around that he had to squint to watch the helicopter come to a stop on the pad and settle down.

Despite the cool desert breeze, sweat rolled down his face. How was he going to deal with General Hawkins? Every member of the Project was disobeying a direct order by being here. The government appeared most likely to bring them up on federal charges, ruining their careers. Most important of all, one man would be forever trapped in time by himself.

After what seemed like an eternity, a figure emerged from the passenger side door of the helicopter. With long powerful strides, he approached the Quantum Leap technician that stood waiting for him. “Who are you? Where the hell is Admiral Calavicci?” asked General Hawkins, a career military man in his mid sixties, with gray hair and a thick gray moustache. The lines on his face and the decorations on his uniform let everyone know he had been through hell and back during his years of service. He was a tough fighter, one who never lost a battle.

Sinjin squirmed under the direct questioning of the General. “I am Edward St. John. Admiral Calavicci sends his regrets, but unfortunately, he is unable to meet with you at this moment in time.”

The General’s eyes became smoldering slits. “We will discuss this inside. Move.”

The effect of the General on Sinjin was like mind-control. Without thinking, the technician blurted, “Yes, Sir, we’ll go inside.” Sinjin cursed himself as the words came out. Swallowing uneasily, as if his mouth contained cotton, he nodded his head towards the entrance that lead to the elevator. So much for stalling, he thought, as he lead the General past the armed sentries guarding the entrance. After the long elevator ride down, they arrived at the main floor of the Project complex. A cadet was standing by with heavy jackets for Sinjin and the General. The look the cadet gave made it clear that something else had happened while Sinjin was outside at the landing pad.

The General wasn’t fooled either. “Where the hell is the heat in this place?”

“Power drain has resulted in heat systems failure, Sir!” The cadet barked to his superior officer as the group walked down the barely lit corridor.

“You should know the answer to that…sir.” Sinjin was amazed at himself for standing up to the big brass like that.

“Watch your tongue, mister,” the General shot back, “You are dealing with a United States Four-Star General. Your British ass is floating on deep water as it is, so don’t give me any crap.”

They stopped in front of a metal door that led to Al’s office. The automatic door sensor was apparently inoperative as Sinjin found out, walking into the door. With a low painful groan, he reached into his suit pocket and produced a skeleton key. After manually unlocking the door, he motioned for the General to enter the room after him. Sinjin then shut the door and turned to face Hawkins, leaving the cadet outside to guard the room. The General had already taken a seat behind the desk at the end of the small, windowless, and messy room. With a look of embarrassment, Sinjin realized that Al would of course not keep his office neat and tidy. The piece of woman’s lingerie, Beth’s no doubt, and the bottle of Southern Comfort on the bookshelf behind the desk were the more dominant signs of what had transpired in the office in the last day or so. Al had taken a liking to the alcohol when news of the military’s order to shut down and reassign members of the Project had been announced four weeks ago.

The stacks of paper scattered on the floor made it obvious that the desk had recently been cleared off in a hurry. Al must have really apologized to Beth about the restaurant incident, thought Sinjin, feeling himself blush at the thought of that. “Sir, I apologize for the me…”

“Sit down.” The General ordered, pointing to an overturned chair lying on the floor, knocked over from the night before. It became obvious to Sinjin as he moved the chair that the General was going to say his piece no matter what condition the room was in. As he sat down, Hawkins was lighting up a cigar and staring at a framed photograph on the wall next to him. It was a picture of two men standing in front of a chalkboard covered in equations.

“Admiral Calavicci, I presume,” said the General, pointing at the picture. “However, I can’t place the taller man in the picture.”

Sinjin looked at the picture of the two men smiling. That photo was a constant reminder to Al that he had to do what he could to bring his friend home. The Admiral knew that Sam had succeeded in a second chance to reunite him with his wife Beth. Al valued Dr. Beckett’s friendship more than anyone else’s and owed Sam a great debt. “That’s Doctor Beckett, sir.”

General Hawkins exhaled a large cloud of smoke. “Oh, yes. Doctor Samuel Beckett, the brilliant scientist who invented a time machine with Good ‘Ole Uncle Sam’s money.”

Coughing from the smoke, the technician sputtered, “Doctor Beckett is brilliant, and he did invent a time machine…sort of. It’s just going through some technical difficulties, that’s all.”

The General took a long drag from his cigar. “Let’s knock off the bullshit, shall we? I will ask you some questions and I expect some damn good answers. Where is Admiral Calavicci hiding?”

“Admiral Calavicci is here, sir. As I said, he is unable to see you at present.”

Hawkins knocked some ashes into an ashtray on the bookshelf behind him. “Imaging Chamber? What the hell is that?”

“The Imaging Chamber is where Admiral Calavicci can maintain contact with Doctor Beckett. Without contact with our time, the Doctor cannot obtain any information about where he is or what he’s destined to change.”

“Ah, yes. The God Theory. I read about it in an old report the Admiral filed. But how is it he is stuck in this Imaging Chamber?”
“Because you cut back our power!” the technician blurted out. “When the power supply got low we had to divert energy from non-important sections of the Project. This also meant tapping into life support functions such as heat.” Sinjin reminded the General about the heavy jackets they were still wearing. “A good portion of this Project is sealed off and considered a safety hazard for health reasons.”

A shade of red formed on the General’s forehead. “Let’s get this straight, mister. The power cutoff was not done with malice. It is a casualty of current military and economic situations. The United States Government cannot spare funding for this project as long as we are engaged with operations in Iraq and dealing with Bin Laden. Don’t forget, President Bush wants to rekindle the space program as well. That means all Level 1 Top Secret Experiments not dealing with weapons research have to be scrapped. I personally issued a notice over four weeks ago, explaining the situation. The notice stated that Project Quantum Leap was to be completely shut down within one month, all materials were to be destroyed, and all personnel reassigned.”

‘I hear you, General. You’re gonna leave a man trapped in the past by himself, you heartless Bastard,’ St. John thought heatedly. “We need more time, an extension or something.”

Hawkins face was sheer granite. “You had a month to retrieve Doctor Beckett, and you didn’t do it. Therefore, this Project has been officially declared a failure.”

Those words slapped Sinjin hard across the face. “Sir, if you do this, you will leave a brave man back there alone.” Although Sinjin didn’t know it, Al had used those same exact words years before to a D.C. committee that wanted to stop the Project.

“Quite frankly, Mr. St. John, I don’t understand all of this…Leaping business. In my opinion, it was his fault for using himself as a guinea pig in the first place.”

Sinjin was very close to losing his anger. He had to fight to maintain control. “If you won’t give us an extension, how about a temporary power gain? The cut in power is what sealed the Admiral in the Imaging Chamber and is also preventing Doctor Beckett from coming home.”

Hawkins took another long puff from his cigar. “The government has no power to spare at present,” he said flatly.

Sinjin slammed his fist hard into the desk, surprising the General. “Dammit, Sir, you have the authority to override most of the decisions concerning power and funding allocation. You can simply ask for it yourself.”

“I would, Mr. St. John, if I felt the Project works. I don’t believe that it does.”

“Sir, we have files that prove that it works. Doctor Beckett has saved many lives and changed many historical events.”

“Such as…uh…saving the life of Jackie Kennedy Onassis, John F. Kennedy’s wife.”

“I know who she was. But saved her life? She was never hurt in the assassination of J.F.K. back in ’63.”

“That’s where you are wrong, Sir. In the original history, Jackie was killed as well.”

The General didn’t buy it, but was becoming slightly amused. “How was she…saved?”

Sinjin grew impatient. “Yes. In the original history, Oswald shot and killed both President Kennedy and the First lady. Doctor Beckett had Leaped into Oswald and he supposed to prevent Jackie’s death. Before he could do so, Oswald’s mind reconnected which in turn Leaped Sam out of Oswald and sent him to the nearest person who could accomplish the mission, a secret service agent who was near the motorcade. Sam was then able to save the First Lady.”

“Oswald’s mind reconnected? What the hell kinda talk is that? Your little fantasy still doesn’t prove that Beckett changed history. Why doesn’t anybody outside of the Project remember that Jackie was originally assassinated?”

“The parallel-hybrid computer that runs this Project. Didn’t you bother to do some background research before you came out here, General?”

“If you did have time, you would have known that Ziggy is the big link between us and Doctor Beckett. Ziggy observes time and records it into memory.”

“I could show you what Ziggy has recorded but I am quite afraid that now it is impossible to show you.”

“With low power reserves, Ziggy is very slowly losing memory. No one here dares try to tamper with the system anymore than what is deemed necessary for fear of erasing more memory files.”

“A very convenient excuse,” the General said with a snort, rising from his chair to tower over Sinjin. “Listen to me well. By now, you must realize that I don’t give a damn about this Project. Through personal experiences, I have found that these top-secret experiment bases are a waste of time and resources. As soon as Calavicci is available, I want him to report to me immediately. I am giving this Project thirty-two hours to get its crap in gear. At the end of that time, computer specialists will be present to dismantle the computer. Afterwards, I will begin the supervision of evacuating this place and determine who will be brought up on charges of insubordination.” Hawkins checked his watch. “I suggest you use the time remaining to find solid evidence to convince me that this experiment actually works. I will agree to halt the dismantling process if you have uncontestable proof, but don’t waste my time either.”

Sinjin stood up to face the General. “Mark my words, General, this Project will not be dismantled until long after Doctor Beckett is home.”

Hawkins headed for the door. “I am tired from the flight and would like to see my quarters, assuming it is not an iceberg. Tomorrow, I will inspect this installation from top to bottom to see what kind of nonsense all of those billions and billions of dollars went into. I want Calavicci to show me personally…before this place becomes history of making it.” Laughing, the General opened the door and ordered the cadet on guard to show him to his room.

Sinjin stood in the doorway and watched them go towards the elevator. ‘Wherever you are, Al and Doctor Beckett, I hope it is better than the hell awaiting you here!’

PART TWO

No matter which way he turned, he could not escape the loud ringing sensation in his ears. The darkness he was engulfed in made it impossible to find an escape from the madness. After a while, the darkness shifted to a swirl of colors but the roaring sound persisted. The myriad scheme of colors started to eventually take on shapes and movements.

He could feel himself floating, a sense of non-existence, as he made his way along a familiar corridor, one he knew he had traveled down many times before. Familiar people passed by him, ignoring him as though he wasn’t there at all. There were tears rolling down some of the faces of people that at one time or another he knew the names of.

Following the crowd of people, they came upon a door that whooshed open and proceeded inward. Right behind them, he noticed the people were forming a circle upon something that was lying motionless on a reflective table.

Something propelled him to enter further into the room. This chamber looked familiar as well.

“I can’t believe it happened this way,” he heard a woman’s grief-stricken voice cry above the roar, which now lessened to the sound of a constant waterfall. “I knew he would return,” the woman sobbed, “but not this way.”

Floating over the crowd of gatherers, he looked within the circle to see what all the attention was about. A body in white garments lay still on the counter, which now seemed more like a bed. Bending over the body, blocking his view to its identity, was a man in a shiny gold suit, holding a cigar.

“Move!” the unseen presence shouted, but no one heard him. The man with the cigar briefly turned his head as if in response, but shook his head seeing nothing there.

The woman who spoke earlier stood up and shook her fist at the ceiling and screamed, “Why did you send him there? Why?”

The presence expected God to answer but instead heard a female voice out of nowhere intone; “There was a 99.3 percent chance that the Doctor would find the means necessary to return home.”

“But he’s dead!” the woman shrieked. “My husband is dead. You psychotic computer, I oughta spend the rest of my life taking you apart, circuit by circuit, until you’re nothing but a pile of scrap metal.” The woman’s body was wracked by a fit of sobbing. The man with the cigar rushed over to comfort her, and by doing so, revealed to the presence the identity of the dead body.

‘How can this be? How can I be home and also be dead? This is a big mistake…’

Then Sam remembered. He was out in the desert just seconds before an atomic blast detonation. The man with the cigar had arrived and told him to get down. He had survived being near ground zero of an atomic explosion and ended up here.

Suddenly, the face on the corpse started changing. Within seconds, it became a mish-mash of different faces, male and female, young and old. People he had vaguely recalled seeing in mirrored reflections many times before. As if on puppet strings, the body clumsily jumped up and landed on its feet, the faces still changing. Amazingly, no one else in the room seemed to notice this occurrence.

Pointing a finger at Sam, the body eerily walked towards him. In a voice that sounded like a hundred different people at the same time, it yelled, “Why did you have to tamper with other people’s lives?” The face reverted back to looking like Sam’s. “Look at all the misery you have caused.” The body’s hands reached outward. Sam could feel them tighten around his neck, choking him until he let loose one big…

With a start, he found himself lying on a cot in a tiny cubicle. It was hard to make out anything. The room was tiny and there was no window or clock. It did however contain a small desk with a lamp, a small mirror, a legal pad, and a pencil. Next to the lamp was a small tray with a toothbrush and toothpaste. On the other side of the room was a small closet with some gray sweat suits, a tiny dresser, and a hamper.

In an effort to clear his head, Sam managed to sit up on the cot. ‘What a weird dream. Living other people’s lives. But what was I doing lying dead in that odd place with my wife hanging crying over me? That’s the odd part, I don’t recall having a wife or being married.’

Pain in his left arm shot through him, making him forget about the weird dream he had just awoken from. It felt like it had been jabbed with quite a few needles.

Stretching, he got off the cot and stood on the floor, immediately wishing he had stayed where he was. The floor was cold to the touch. Looking down, his bare feet were touching a metal floor. Another draft hit him in the backside, and he realized he was wearing a hospital gown.

An all too familiar voice cackled from behind him, “Oh, jeez, Sam, I hope you have underwear on under that thing…” After a beat, the voice continued with an embarrassed, “…oh, you don’t...”

Turning around, Sam saw Al walk through the cot towards him, smoking a cigar. For some reason, the hologram’s hair was more rumpled than usual and the teal suit looked in bad need of ironing. As if a light switch was thrown, all the memory that his swiss-cheesed brain would allow flooded back to Sam. He was a Leaper, trapped in another person’s life.

“Al? I…” Al placed a finger to his mouth, cautioning Sam to keep quiet and cutting him off mid-sentence. Sam followed Al’s glance upward and instinctively realized that there was a big black and white camera mounted on the wall just above a metal door to monitor him. Sam gave a good tug on the door, but it was locked from the outside.

The Observer motioned for Sam to sit on the cot, “They’ve got the room bugged, Sam.”

Grabbing the mirror, legal pad and pencil, Sam eased himself back on the cot, modestly trying to keep the gown from exposing him to Al or the camera. Sam wasn’t sure what to make of himself as he looked into the mirror. He appeared to look much older than he seemed, as if something was aging him faster than possible. His eyes were brown and appeared to be sunken inward. A few bags were also evident under them. Here and there across the face and arms were small growths. Sam guessed this guy wasn’t in the best of health, noticing that the guy also suffered form extreme hair loss. Without thinking, he started trying to fix his hair to cover up the clumps that had fallen out.

Al didn’t seem to notice as he keyed the handlink for information from Ziggy. “You had me scared to death, Sam,” Al said as he waited for the response on the handlink. “When the bomb exploded, everything around me winked out, and I found myself alone in the Imaging Chamber. I only just re-established a link with you just a few seconds ago. I thought you were dead.”

Those last words reminded Sam of his nightmare. He wrote on the legal pad: I JUST WOKE UP A FEW MINUTES AGO. NOW THAT MY MIND RECOVERED FROM THE SHOCK OF THE BLAST, WE MUST HAVE RECONNECTED THE LINK.

Al nodded in agreement. Sam continued to write: WHO HAS THIS ROOM BUGGED? ARE YOU STILL TRAPPED IN THE CHAMBER?

The handlink squealed. Al smacked it a few times and then said, “I’ve got only a small bit of information for you, Sam. Ziggy is a little behind on gathering the data on this Leap.”

A pained expression came over Al’s face. “Just here me out, Sam, before you get mad.”

The Leaper took his pencil and jabbed the legal pad at his last question. Shortly after, a spasm of coughing overcame him and he covered his mouth. Al wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw blood on Sam’s hand.

“Oh, boy,” Sam said, taking in a deep breath. “Do I feel woozy and tired.”

“I’m not surprised at all, Sam. You went through hell.” The handlink beeped again. “Ziggy’s got a small report for you. It’s Thursday, April 2^nd, 1959, and you have leaped into one Char…Char…” The Observer smacked the handlink again. “Charles O’Donnell. Everyone calls you Ohdee. Age is thirty-eight. No known occupation is given.” He hesitated on the next piece of news. “Uh, Sam, Ziggy’s not sure on the next part here, I think we should give her more time to…”

Sam gave him the “no more secrets” look and Al caved. “OK, Sam, but you’re not gonna like it. Ohdee is terminally ill, that much we got from Dr. Beeks talking to him in the Waiting Room. Beeks also found out from this guy that he has Lung Cancer and is expected to last only one more year. According to Ziggy, his date of death is unknown since this facility you are currently a prisoner in appears to be very top secret and classified. It appears that Ohdee has volunteered to help the U.S. conduct weapons tests since he is terminal. Beeks said he wants to do what he can to beat those commie Russians.”

A chill came over Sam. ‘I leaped into a terminally ill man. What if he dies in the Waiting Room? Will I Leap or be stuck here in the past. The people at this facility will know something is going on if Ohdee in 1959 suddenly shows no signs of cancer. How could God or Fate or Time do this to me?’

“I don’t know, Sam, but it must be something as classified as Project Quantum Leap. I’ve told you all I know.” Al lied. “Ziggy still hasn’t figured out why you are here yet.”

This was the moment Al was dreading. The last piece of information Al was reluctant to give.

There was nowhere to go. Al couldn’t just open the Door and bolt out. He felt trapped.

Just as Al was about to answer, the metal door opened from the outside and two men entered, dressed in medical attire. One man was middle-aged and starting to gray at the temples. The other looked to be in his thirties, clean-shaven with dark hair.

“You were right, Doctor,” said the middle-aged man, “Our patient appears to be awake.” Turning to Sam, he said, “How are you feeling Ohdee?”

“Understandable. You went through a very important test of my experiment. The results of your experiences will aid me in my research.” Looking at the younger doctor, the middle-aged man exclaimed, “Where are my manners, Ohdee? This gentleman standing next to me is Doctor Braden, he has just recently signed on to the project from Great Britain. His early research on sub-atomic particles is incredible. Dr. Braden, you have already met Ohdee.”

“Of course,” said Doctor Braden, in a British accent. “You were unconscious at the time, Ohdee. I was the one who administered your painkiller injections and took your blood samples after primary decontamination of course. I am just so honored to be assisting Doctor Hudson with his experiments. Imagine one day, the balance of power will shift to the United States and all of its allies like Great Britain when their armies can inflict a weapon like a Perfect Clean Hydrogen Bomb upon warring nations like Russia and North Korea to be able to destroy their armies without exposing anyone to harmful radiation.”

Al looked at Sam in shock. ‘What kind of House Of Horrors did Sam end up in?’

“Now that you are awake, Ohdee,” Doctor Hudson said, taking out a gray sweat suit. “We need to do some follow-up tests on you, and possibly run you through decontamination again, just to be safe. Put the sweats on please, and we will wait for you outside.” The two doctors exited the room and shut the door. By the time Al had turned towards Sam, he had already gotten his sweat suit on.

“Neither do I, Sam. This talk about a bomb weapon makes me wanna hurl chunks. We’ll discuss this later. Those leeches are waiting for you outside.” As Sam walked to the metal door, Al couldn’t help but make an observation. “You look like you’re wearing a Fermi suit in that get-up, Sam.”

Both doctors saw Sam leave his room and motioned for him to sit in a wheelchair. Doctor Braden then pushed Sam down the hall as they followed Doctor Hudson to his laboratory. As they rounded a corner, they passed another older doctor with short spiked, pepper colored hair and a goatee. “Hello, doctors,” greeted the newcomer.

“None, I’m afraid,” said Garner. “There is a piece of the puzzle that still eludes me. I’m getting closer every day but I am just short of it and I can’t figure out where I’ve gone wrong.” With a frustrated sigh, he looked down at Sam in the wheelchair. “How are you today, Ohdee? Looks like you survived your ordeal with Hudson’s bomb test.”

“Could be the cancer acting up. If you will all excuse me, I’m gonna go frustrate myself some more.” Garner continued past them down the hall as they resumed their trip. A few moments later, they entered a doorway marked: Radiology Department. Hudson opened the door as Braden guided Sam’s wheelchair into the room. It looked like a reception room with tables and chairs.

Doctor Braden walked to another door at the far end of the room and entered the room behind it. Hudson starting to follow him, turned to Sam and said, “Stay put, Ohdee, Doctor Braden and I need to get a few tests set up for you. We’ll be back in a few minutes and then we’ll put you through decontamination again and then the tests.” Hudson entered the other room as well and closed the door. Al looked around the room, checking for security devices.

“Very sure. I need the code to tell Ziggy to override the Door, and she keeps telling me you have the code.”

“I have the code? How can I be responsible for the code when I have a swiss-cheese memory?”

“That’s just great.” Sam said, with a look of dejection on his face. “I need you to get out of here and talk to Beeks.”

“I need her to run a test on Ohdee in the Waiting Room. I need to know if he has traces of cancer in him.”

“What will these tests confirm, Sam?” asked Al, already suspecting what Sam’s next words would be.

“Al, I don’t think the cancer Leaped with Ohdee. I think it stayed with me. I must have it.”

“Don’t say that, Sam! You don’t have cancer.” But deep down, Al knew his friend was probably right. The tiredness, the blood on Sam’s hands from all the coughing. it was adding up. “It’s hopeless, Sam,” Al was giving in to despair. “Even if I got the code to Ziggy, it wouldn’t matter.”

“That’s not like you to just give up, Al.” Sam looked at the handlink in Al’s hand. A few moments ago it was glowing, now it was dark and silent. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s the government, Sam. Those nozzles have decided they can’t fund the Project anymore and are ready to pull the plug. Slowly, they are cutting off our power supply. I doubt there is enough juice left to open the Imaging Chamber Door.”

Sam shook his head in dismay. The same government that originally forced him to test his experiment was now going to murder it. “I’m sure you did all you could, Al.”<

PROLOGUE

PART TWO