PREVIOUSLY
IN “LIFETIME”
“FUTURE’S
END”
For
the first time ever, Sam leaps almost thirty years into his future
where he meets a woman named Isabella, and her companion, Adam. She
reveals to Sam the horrible account of what has happened to PQL in
his absence and how it became the catalyst for a cataclysm known as
the Great Disaster. He is further shocked when Isabella reveals that
she is in fact the biological daughter of Sammy Jo Fuller and Daniel
Fulton, and that she has purposely brought him here to bear witness
to the religious cult that his son, Stephen, started to keep his
legacy alive.
As
Isabella and Adam lead Sam into her private workspace, he is also
reunited with Ziggy, who has now assumed a fully tangible
holographic form with emotions. She informs him of Isabella’s plan
to send him back to the Star Bright Project to plant the “seed”
for his return home. A chip containing the perfected Retrieval
program must be integrated into the circuitry of SID (System
Interface Database), which was the prototype for what would
eventually become Ziggy. As the time of “Old” Sam’s imminent
death draws near, Adam shows his true colors and attempts to kill
Isabella with a futuristic quantum laser weapon. In the ensuing
struggle between Sam and Adam, Ziggy loses control and becomes a
force to be reckoned with, electrocuting and killing Adam. She
detects Isabella still alive, “unstuck” in the time stream, and
promises she will do everything she can to find her. Sam then holds
the Retrieval chip firmly in hand, and leaps.
PROLOGUE
Once
again, Sam was surrounded by nothing but quantum blue. Within the
void, he was able to hold onto his thoughts and memories. His brief
encounter with his older self, dying before his eyes, shocked Sam
into a new level of awareness he had been denying since his very
first leap. He knew the truth now. I’m
in control—always have been!
Holding
onto that realization when he leaped again though, would be an
entirely different matter. It required him to retrain his way of
thinking—to unlearn a frame of mind he had grown accustomed to.
Since the quantum void enabled Sam to surpass all physical
limitations, his mind was now open to a myriad of impulses. He could
“feel” the presence of every single time-traveler who had ever
leaped or would leap, both in the past and
in the future. Linear time was non-existent here. The void acted as
a cosmic nexus for all time periods and parallel dimensions. There
was literally an infinite amount of timelines branching off from one
another, and in some cases, falling back on each other.
Just
as quickly as this level of awareness invaded Sam’s mind, it
disappeared again. He knew that it was because he was about to leap
again. Human beings were not meant to retain this level of awareness
in the mortal plane of existence, hence they become like gods
themselves.
Ahead
of him, Sam saw the mirror again. This time, a flood of images was
reflected back to him. He could clearly see the mirror images of all
of the “leapees” from the past ten years. Significant segments
of his past were now guiding him along to his next-to-last
destination on the roller-coaster ride through Time. Sam felt his
body become tangible once again, as the pull of the leap brought him
back to reality…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When
the blue light finally faded, Sam found himself standing in a
well-lit room. The light emanated from a chandelier on the ceiling
above him, and in front of him was a wooden table with chairs around
it.
The
momentary confusion that Sam had gotten used to in his ten years of
leaping faded quickly when he looked down at his left hand and saw
the Plexiglas tube clenched tightly in his palm.
The
Retrieval chip! Sam
remembered. It worked! Now,
all I have to do is plant it into SID. But…
Sam
looked around at his surroundings and realized he was in someone’s
home—a dining room, to be specific. Where
exactly am I? Why didn’t I leap back to the Star Bright Project?
A
small tug on Sam’s pant leg brought him out of his thoughts. He
looked down and saw a small blond-haired girl, maybe six or seven
years old staring up at him. “Uncle Gooshie? Have you seen Mommy
and Daddy?”
“Um…
no, but I’m sure they’re—wait!
W-what did you just call me?”
“Uncle
Gooshie!” the girl responded innocently.
“Gooshie?”
Sam said in shock. “No! It can’t
be!”
Almost
directly in front of him, Sam saw a wooden china cabinet filled with
fancy dinnerware. As he looked into the glass windows, he strained
to see his reflection and was completely thrown for a loop when he
saw the face of his late colleague and friend, Dr. Irving Gushman,
staring back at him.
“I’m
Gooshie!” Sam exclaimed in amazement.
The
little girl started giggling, saying, “You’re being silly, Uncle
Gooshie! Oh boy!”
PART
ONE
New
York City, New York
March
17, 1984, 2:38 PM
“What’s
that thing you’re holding, Uncle Gooshie? Is that a toy for me?”
the little girl asked Sam.
Sam
looked away from the reflection and turned his head back down toward
the girl. A toy? What’s she talking about? he thought, before realizing she
was referring to the Plexiglas tube containing the Retrieval chip.
“Oh, this, no, uh… niece of mine,” he answered. Would
be nice if I knew her name! “This is, uh… something very
important for my job. It’s not a toy!”
“But
it looks sparkly! Can I have it, pwetty pwease?” she begged him
with puppy-dog eyes.
“Moira!”
a male voice called out behind him. Sam turned around and saw a
well-distinguished man of about average height with blond hair and
wearing glasses. “Uncle Gooshie says it’s not a toy. Why don’t
you go back inside and finish watching your cartoons, and let Uncle
Gooshie finish getting his things together? He’s going to be
leaving to go back home in a little while.”
“Moira!”
Sam whispered in realization. Gooshie’s
niece, Moira McCloud… no, Perkins… from Al’s Place—but, that
wouldn’t be right either, she’s a little girl in this time. That
man must be her father! So, who is he in relation to Gooshie?
“But
I’m thirsty! I wanted to ask you or Mommy for something to
drink!” Moira said innocently to her father.
“Mommy
was still feeling a little sick, remember? I’ll get you some juice
if you go back inside and watch TV, okay?” Moira’s father
tousled the top of her hair and smiled.
“Okay,”
she said simply, as she walked back inside and plopped herself on
the living room couch.
The
father turned back to Sam and said, “Don’t mind Moira, Irving.
She gets a little rambunctious at times. I guess it’s the tomboy
in her, huh?”
“Heh
heh, yeah, I guess so,” Sam answered. “It’s okay, she wasn’t
bothering me.” He noticed the man casually glimpsing at the chip
he held in his hand, silently questioning its purpose. “This is,
uh, a special piece of equipment I’ve been working on… for when
I go back to work. I was just… checking to make sure it was intact
and everything.”
“Always
the workaholic, eh, Irving?” the man said, shaking his head but
smiling all the same. “I guess I should be grateful you managed to
sneak some time away from your work to help look after Moira. I know
that Project of yours doesn’t give you much in the way of free
time, but I still appreciate all you’ve done to help us out while
Catherine’s been sick with that nasty flu going around.”
“Anytime,”
Sam replied. Hoping he’d glean some additional information from
his prodding, he further asked, “So, is Catherine feeling any
better?”
“Cathy?
Oh yeah, she’s just resting now. She’ll be fine when we leave to
drop you off at LaGuardia. She insisted on personally making sure
her ‘little brother’ has no problems boarding the plane.
Flight’s at 5:15, right?”
So,
Catherine is Gooshie’s older sister. That must make this guy his
brother-in-law, Sam
thought before responding. “Um, I… think so.”
“Good.
I’d better go get Moira the juice she wanted. Wouldn’t want her
throwing a tantrum,” the brother-in-law said, winking as he passed
Sam to walk into the kitchen area.
With
the little bit of information he obtained, Sam realized two things:
one, that this was the home of Gooshie’s sister and
brother-in-law; and two, that Gooshie must be getting ready to leave
to return to the Star Bright Project after a brief vacation. That,
itself, boggled Sam’s mind. Gooshie hardly ever
took vacations!
Sam
continued to look around the house, trying to spot anything that
might prove useful. On the dining room table, Sam noticed a tin tray
with a few pieces of mail on it. Most
likely bills! Sam thought. They
would have the owner’s mailing address on the front! Sam never
liked having to snoop around a stranger’s home, especially sifting
through mail, but he felt that one tiny peek wouldn’t hurt in this
instance.
The
name on the front read: Robert
Burke; and underneath was the address: 249
E. 75th St., New York, NY 10021. The postmark in the upper-right
hand corner read: 15 MAR 1984,
which told Sam that it was probably either the 16th or 17th of
March. St. Patrick’s Day!
he realized.
Hearing
the noise coming from the television set, Sam walked into the living
room of what he now assumed to be a townhouse on the Upper East Side
of Manhattan. Moira was sitting on the couch, smiling and watching
the cartoon on the screen. A muscular man with blond shoulder-length
hair was holding a sword and wearing a tunic with a red cross on his
chest. He was fighting a strange-looking equally muscular guy with
blue skin and a skull for his face. He was also wearing a dark blue
hood over his head. Other than the different heads and the coloring
of their skin, the frames of their bodies looked almost identical.
“What
cha watchin’, Moira?” Sam asked curiously.
“A
tape! That’s He-Man! He’s the most powerful man in the universe!
That’s the bad guy, Skeletor! He’s a real meanie! He’s trying
to get into Castle Grayskull!”
“Okay…”
Sam responded. Why is the
animation so corny? In just thirty seconds, I’ve seen the same
pose used twice! he thought.
“And
that girl inside the castle is the Sorceress! She’s really pretty!
I wish I could be the Sorceress! Then I could turn into a bird and
fly, fly, fly!”
Sam
then looked into her hands, and noticed that she was holding a
miniature version of the hero, He-Man, holding a plastic sword in
his right hand. Sam knew very little about ’80s cartoons, but from
what he observed, it seemed apparent that this show was being aimed
specifically towards young children, so that their parents could go
out and buy the toys. He shook his head and smirked. Typical
’80s corporate America!
“Here’s
your juice, Moira,” Robert announced from behind Sam, as he walked
over to the couch and handed the cup to her. “Try not to spill it,
okay?”
“Thank
you, Daddy!” she smiled as she took the cup in both hands, sipped
her juice, and continued watching.
“Quite
a handful, huh?” Sam asked Robert, referring to Moira.
“Ha,
you don’t know the half of it, Irving. Most girls her age are
starting to get into Barbie dolls and playing dress-up… she’s
into all the typical boy stuff: cops-and-robbers, things like that.
Cathy and I always have to keep running after her just to make sure
she doesn’t accidentally hurt herself. I swear, sometimes, I think
she’s a boy trapped in a girl’s body!”
Huh!
No wonder why I saw her as Tess McGill when I leaped back to Al’s
Place! What was it Tess said in that leap way back? The man she
married had to be more of a man than she
was? Another small smirk came to Sam’s face.
“Anyway,
I thought you still had to get a few things together,” Robert
interrupted his train of thought. “You’re all packed and ready
to go?”
Sam
looked around, assuming and hoping
Gooshie still didn’t have more to pack, and responded, “Um…
just about. Just looking around to make sure I didn’t forget
anything.”
“Well,
you were only here for a couple of days, and you didn’t bring
much, except some change of clothes. So, I’m sure you’re good to
go. I just wish you could have gotten more out of your brief stay
with us. We could have all went down to Fifth Avenue to watch the
parade.”
“Ah…
well, maybe next time,” Sam smiled, as he placed the Retrieval
chip into a secure compartment of the suitcase he saw on the floor. Wouldn’t
want anything to happen to it before I get back to the Project!
“Yeah,
definitely wouldn’t want to forget that, it looks pretty
important,” said Robert. “Well, I’m just going to finish up
some last minute stuff around the house before we leave. I figure it
shouldn’t take much more than an hour or so to get out of the city
and to the airport. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go check up
on Cathy, okay?”
“No
problem,” Sam reassured. That’ll
give me a little more time to get my bearings and make sure
everything is in order. I’m just still not sure why I leaped here
and not at the actual Project. Is there something else I’m
supposed to do? Moira doesn’t need my help for another fifteen
years or so, and I already helped her a while back, didn’t I?
Sam
tried to remember the last time he saw the adult Moira. Although,
physically, her appearance matched that of another woman he had
helped, Tess McGill, it was simply a “mirror expression.” It all
had to do with the fact that he met her outside of the mysterious
“Al’s Place,” a tavern that did, and yet, didn’t exist. It
was all coming back to Sam now, as if the events had happened
yesterday…
The
first time he leaped there, about five years ago, he had leaped as
himself—not into—on
the date of his birth, August 8, 1953—right down to the precise
second he left his mother’s womb at 12:15 PM. The bar was located
in Cokeburg, Pennsylvania. After talking with Al the Bartender, Sam
realized that he needed to put right a wrong in Al Calavicci’s
life—his first wife, Beth, believed he was dead, having been an
MIA in Vietnam for several years. He leaped back to the Calaviccis’
home in San Diego in 1969 and told Beth that, “Al’s
alive! And he’s coming home!”
The
second time Sam leaped as himself to Al’s Place was about a year,
maybe a year and a half ago, only this time it was Thanksgiving
2003, and he was in South Bend, New Mexico. The Bartender hadn’t
aged a day since 1953, coincidentally. The Bartender continued
trying to convince Sam that the person in control of his leaps was
Sam himself. While there, he met the adult Moira. At that particular
point in time, her full name was Moira McCloud, having remarried a
man named Brad after the death of her first husband, John Perkins.
With the help of a detective named Perry Mason and an “angel”
named Angelita, Sam was able to rescue her daughter, Sara. Detective
Mason, however, ultimately turned out to be Gooshie.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Gooshie…
is it really you?” Sam turned to the man next to him. He still
looked like Nick Allen, but when Sam looked back to the reflection
in the mirror, it was Gooshie—his friend—the head programmer,
who had worked for years to try and bring him back home.
“Yes,
Dr. Beckett! I can not believe that it is really you!” Gooshie
smiled as Sam hugged him. “You mean you haven’t been seeing me
as me all this time?”
“No…
no, to me you look like Nick Allen, a guy I leaped into years
ago.” Sam froze for a moment. “And you don’t see me as me?”
“Except
for your mirror image, you look like Lieutenant Tyler. Remember?
From back in the early days on the Star Bright Project?”
Sam
searched for a face, but his Swiss-cheesed memory still had a few
holes in it. “I don’t remember.”
“Almost
everyone here looks like someone I have known,” said Gooshie.
“Al says that’s just—”
“The
way it is,” Sam completed the sentence. “A mirror
expression…”
The
Bartender smiled at the two friends reunited. “It’s funny how
life can surprise you, isn’t it?”
“Life?”
said Sam to himself. Then he realized, “But you… Gooshie, you
died. Al told me you died trying to fix Ziggy and save the project.
That was… three years ago, I think!”
“Sadly,
yes I did, Dr. Beckett. March 1st, 2000, to be exact. I was working
in the Main Conduit Relay Room and, well…”
Sam
grabbed Gooshie by the shoulders and asked excitedly, “Then how
are you here—You’re a leaper, aren’t you?!”
Gooshie
shrugged. “I was given a choice. I could either go straight to…
you know,” he pointed to the ceiling, “or I could stay and help
someone here. I was given the opportunity to leap forward in time to
fix a mistake of my choosing and cannot leave until the mission is
accomplished. If I fail, time rewinds to the date of my death and I
have the chance to fix it again.”
“And
if you can’t fix the mistake?” Sam asked, looking at his friend
in amazement.
“Then
I can’t go… home.” Gooshie shifted his glance to the
Bartender.
“You
made the choice, Goosh,” smiled the Bartender. “But it looks
like you have extra help this time, don’t you think?”
Gooshie
nodded and smiled as Sam asked, “You can only leap forward? Not
back in time?”
“That’s
correct, Dr. Beckett. We aren’t allowed to alter our own
lifetimes. We can only help people outside of our own lifetimes. I
chose to help my niece, Moira, get her daughter back.”
“Your
niece? You are Moira’s uncle that left her his estate!” Sam
grinned widely as he realized the connection. “The computer chip
you created for Ziggy… the one that made you rich… oh my God,
this is incredible!”
(*From
Episode
932, “Mirror Expression III”)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
And
just as Sam had the opportunity to correct a mistake in his friend
Al’s life the first time, he had the chance to correct a mistake
in Gooshie’s life that time as well. He could remember leaping
back to the year 2000, saving John Perkins’ life, and then telling
Gooshie, “You gotta listen
to me. In two weeks, in the Main Conduit Relay Room, you get—”
But
alas, Sam wasn’t able to finish his warning in time. Although
Moira’s first husband, John, was saved, Gooshie still died two
weeks later—at least, in that particular timeline. He also seemed
to remember the date of Gooshie’s death conflicting in other
leaps, but that was a mystery to be solved for another time.
Perhaps
that’s why I leaped here now… not just to plant the chip, but to
somehow also save Gooshie? It’s been so long since he died, could
I still save him without changing anything else that’s happened
since then? Sam
thought. But if that were the
case, then wouldn’t I have leaped into someone else to warn
Gooshie in person? Even if he was told in the Waiting Room, I’m
here and he’s there; I don’t see what I’d be able to do
now to prevent his death
fifteen years or so before the fact. The Swiss-cheese effect would
cause Gooshie to forget what anyone told him anyway. No, it’s
gotta be something else! But what?
Until
he could figure out what that “something else” was, Sam figured
his safest option would be to go with the flow of the leap and see
what would develop. As long as he kept his main objective in mind,
to make it safely back to Star Bright and plant the “seed” for
his long awaited return home, the rest of the leap would most likely
fall into place.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
LaGuardia
Airport
Flushing,
New York
March
17, 1984, 4:32 PM
As
Robert drove the car across the 59th Street Bridge into Queens, Sam
looked out the back window to take in the awe-inspiring sight of the
Manhattan skyline. Even though he had been to New York City a few
times in his life, both before and during his leaping, he still
couldn’t help but be amazed. With the sun just starting to set
beyond the horizon, the Empire State Building, the Statue of
Liberty, and so many other prominent sites were shimmering in their
architectural beauty. He could definitely understand why most native
New Yorkers claimed it was the greatest city in the world.
Upon
arriving at LaGuardia, Sam found the information on his ticket
pretty self-explanatory and was able to find the terminal gate he
needed to board with relative ease and some time left to spare.
Saying his goodbyes to Gooshie’s immediate family, Catherine gave
Sam a warm embrace and whispered in his ear, “Don’t be a
stranger, you hear? Even if you’ve got to write us letters, just
to let us know how you’re doing, okay?”
“Okay,
I promise,” Sam reassured. He was genuinely certain Gooshie would
follow through on that request, from what he remembered about
Gooshie’s character. Looking at Catherine, it amazed Sam how much
she looked like his old friend, except for her feminine features and
medium-length brown hair.
As
she kissed his cheek, she wrinkled her nose, looked at Sam
curiously, and inquired, “Have you been taking something new for
your sinusitis?”
“Huh?”
Sam asked, slightly confused.
“No
offense, little brother, but your breath usually reeks, even with
the medication you take. This is the first time in as long as I can
remember where I’m not reeling backward from your bad breath.
Those must be some curiously strong mints you’re taking, or
something.”
Saying
the first thing that popped up in his head, Sam grinned and
responded, “Someone gave me some Altoids! They work pretty
well!”
“Ha
ha, okay, if you say so, Irving,” Robert responded, as he stepped
forward and shook his hand. “I know we discussed this before, but
thanks again for giving us a hand.”
“You’re
welcome, Robert.”
“Moira,
honey, you want to say goodbye to your godfather?” Robert asked
Moira.
Sam
bent down, picked up little Moira Burke in his arms, and gave her a
huge hug, as if this would be the last time he would ever see her.
And for all Sam knew, maybe it was. “Take care, kiddo. Stay out of
trouble, and don’t give your mommy and daddy a hard time, okay?”
“Okay,
Uncle Gooshie. I love you!”
“I
love you too, Munchkin!” Sam said, without quite realizing he had
said it. My mind must be merging with Gooshie’s. He calls her Munchkin!
Putting
Moira down and picking up the small amount of luggage he had, Sam
walked toward the gate, showed his ticket to the flight attendant,
and boarded the plane.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Outside
Albuquerque International Sunport
Albuquerque,
New Mexico
March
17, 1984, 11:12 PM
Overall,
Sam’s flight had been rather uneventful. After a brief layover in
Cincinnati, he caught the connecting flight back to Albuquerque. It
took him a good half hour to claim his luggage, and he found out
that Gooshie had left his car at the airport so that he could
immediately start his long drive back to the White Sands Test
Center. Good thing my memory
seems to be working with me on this leap, Sam thought. Or maybe it’s a little residual from Gooshie? Whatever it is, I’m
sure grateful, since it seems like my neural link with Ziggy is
still inactive for now.
As
he began making his way out of the terminal, he walked through a set
of automatic doors in an attempt to try and locate the lot where
Gooshie’s car was being held, but soon found himself getting
slightly lost. Upon turning a corner in an isolated area outside,
Sam noticed a small group of about three young men hassling someone
in an alleyway. He couldn’t see the person’s face from the angle
he was standing at, but it appeared to be a woman that the hoodlums
were attempting to mug—and probably planned on doing more than
that.
If
it was one thing that angered Sam Beckett more than anything, it was
men taking advantage of a poor, defenseless woman. Sam couldn’t
allow that injustice to happen, if he could help it.
Sam
dropped his luggage, started moving toward the group, and shouted,
“Hey! Why don’t you guys pick on someone your own size?”
Taken
by surprise momentarily, one of the men ran off, leaving Sam to
defend himself in a one-on-two confrontation. Having excelled in
several forms of martial arts training, Sam was more than a match
for the street punks, and successfully scared the remaining two men
off. But not before threatening to press charges if they came
anywhere near him or the woman again.
Feeling
a sense of pride in having fended off a possible crime, Sam turned
back toward the frightened woman, who seemed to think he was one of
them. “Please, stay away from me! Leave me alone!” she pleaded.
“Those
guys are gone, Miss. I promise, I’m not going to harm you! Please,
let me help you,” Sam insisted. Despite the woman’s nervous
protest, Sam gently helped her to stand up. As he looked the woman
over to make sure there was no serious injury upon her person, their
eyes locked, and Sam almost fell back in shock when he discovered
her identity.
“Alia?!”
PART
TWO
Project
Quantum Leap
Stallion’s
Gate, New Mexico
Control
Room, Present Day
“Personal
log entry for Samantha Josephine Fuller, Friday, November 18, 2005.
It’s been three months since my father, Dr. Samuel Beckett,
disappeared without a trace. In that time, Admiral Calavicci has
made numerous attempts to lock onto Dad’s brainwaves using
Ziggy’s upgraded epochtonusalgraphic probe and
goniospectrophotometer in the Imaging Chamber, but to no avail.
Dad’s sudden disappearance has caused the Senate Committee to have
second thoughts on providing additional funding, and Al and Beth
have met up with General Hawkins in Washington, D.C. to make a plea
before the Committee. With the two of them not due back until the
22nd, Dominic Lofton and myself have been left in charge to deal
with any immediate problems that might arise with Ziggy or my
father. Although at this point, it seems bleak that Ziggy will
reestablish a connection with him anytime soon.
“So,
I now find myself at a loss of what exactly to do. My retrieval
theories have hit a slight snag, and I can’t seem to focus on the
problem. Ever since my father used Dr. Garner’s Time Displacer
Unit in 1959 to leap back here briefly, the original program became
corrupted. I was lucky enough to be able to use most of the
equations as a building block for a new program; so fortunately, I
didn’t have to start completely from scratch again. But, I have
this terrible feeling that time is running out. I can’t put my
finger on it, but I have this weird suspicion that if we don’t
find and retrieve him soon, we never will. Even with my high IQ of
192 and my eidetic memory, they feel so limited in comparison to the
huge complexity of finding my father drifting in the time stream.
“And
then there’s Daniel—the love of my life, the man who asked me
for my hand in marriage. If I hadn’t have spent so much of my time
over the past two years trying to perfect the Retrieval Program, we
probably would have been married already. It would be a dream come
true to have my ‘real’ father there to walk me down the aisle,
to watch me recite my vows to the man I want to spend the rest of my
life with. Daniel tells me he understands and that he’s willing to
wait, but I know that deep down inside, he’s hurting. He wants to
start a family with me, and I feel so afraid that his patience will
soon wear off. In his eyes, I need to move on with my life. I can
still remember each and every word he told me the other night as we
lay together in bed. ‘Life’s too short, Sammy. You never know
what could happen. The world could end tomorrow, and we would never
have the chance to know what our life could have been like. I’m
sure your father would tell you the same thing if he was still with
us.’
“I
know. It’s silly to worry that some ‘great disaster’ or
something would suddenly destroy our chance at happiness. But in a
way, he’s right. I don’t know if I could ever live with myself
if something terrible happened before we had the chance to unite our
souls in the eyes of God. But on the other hand, I don’t think
Daniel truly comprehends the nature of my father’s existence; that
he’s still alive, trapped in time somewhere. I need to find him. He deserves to come home after all the good he’s done.
If only I could get a signal—some sign that my father is still out
there, waiting to make contact. I need something to restore my
dwindling hope.”
Dr.
Sammy Jo Fuller walked the corridors of Project Quantum Leap,
racking her brain in an attempt to come up with something—anything—that
would allow her to reestablish contact with Sam in the time stream.
As she entered the Control Room, her thoughts went back to her fiancé,
Commander Daniel Fulton, and what he told her the other night about
moving on with her life. The love they had shared that night was a
particularly special experience for both of them, and she could feel
the bond between them growing stronger with each passing day. For
the first time in as long as she could remember, Sammy Jo found
herself at an important crossroads in her life. The time would soon
come when she’d be forced to choose between the two most important
men in her life: her father, Sam, or her husband-to-be, Daniel.
It
wasn’t like she would have to resign her position at the Project,
but married life would put a significant damper on the amount of
time she could invest in perfecting the Retrieval program. Knowing
that no one else on staff even came close to comprehending her
equations and continuing her work effectively didn’t help matters
any. Other than Stephen, there was no one else at the Project
qualified enough to carry on her work. And besides the fact that
Stephen was a genius, he was still just a boy.
Out
of the corner of her eye, Sammy Jo noticed the new head programmer
observing her as she drifted off in thought and quickly shook it
off. “Any news on Dr. Beckett, Dom?” Sammy Jo asked him.
“Sorry,
Dr. Fuller,” Dom responded. “Ziggy’s still coming up blank. If
Dr. Beckett’s still out there, he’s either still moving through
time or his neural link with Ziggy’s been severed somehow. I wish
there was more I could tell you, Dr. Fuller.”
Frowning,
but not entirely surprised, she said, “It’s okay, Dom, I
didn’t really expect anything new. And by the way, I’ve told you
a few times already… call me Sammy. You don’t need to be so
formal here. We always tried telling that to Gooshie and Sinjin too,
but they insisted on using formalities most of the times.”
Laughing,
Dom explained, “Sorry, Dr. Ful—uh, Sammy. I’m just still so
used to the formalities from my original line of work. To be honest,
I’m still trying to get used to not hearing anyone, other than
Ziggy, call me Professor
Lofton, even though it’s been a good four years since I officially
had that title. I’ll try to keep what you told me in mind… Sammy!” He smiled as he called her by her first name.
“That’s
all I can ask, Lofty!”
she joked back with a smile, but it faded quickly as her thoughts
returned to Daniel and the choices she would have to make.
“Hey,
you look a little worn out and tired. Everything okay?” Dom asked
her, concerned.
“Yes…
no… well, sort of… I’m not sure. It’s… personal
stuff…”
“Ah,
I understand. I won’t pry; I was just concerned, that’s all.”
“Oh,
it has nothing to do with you,
Dom. It’s just—well, I confided in St. John about a lot of
things, including Daniel, my fiancé. Sinjin knew we would end up
together before we even
did!”
“Hah!
Yeah, it was like that with Aurora and me.
Everyone else knew we were perfect for each other before we
both realized it. Took me a good few months before I got up the
nerve to ask her out.”
“It’s
just… sometimes, I worry that I’m letting my work get in the way
of making the ultimate commitment to Daniel, you know what I
mean?”
“Yeah,
I hear ya,” Dom replied. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it
though, Sammy. I’ve only been here for a few months, but I can
tell you’re a kind and generous person. If his love for you is as
strong as you make it out to be, then he has to know how important
your work is too. He’ll wait for you and go out of his way to make
sure you’re happy. Things will work out, you’ll see!”
Smiling
at Dom, Sammy Jo responded, “Thanks, Dominic! I really appreciate
your reassurance!”
“Anytime,
Sammy!” he smiled back.
Suddenly,
a mild-sounding klaxon went off in the Control Room as Ziggy’s
disembodied voice announced from all directions, “I believe I have
reestablished a partial lock on Dr. Beckett’s brainwaves.”
“What?
Are you serious, Ziggy?” Sammy Jo exclaimed excitedly.
“You
should know by now, Dr. Fuller… I never make false assumptions
based on what I know. I have detected a slight increase in neural
activity, which is usually associated with Dr. Beckett leaping. It
is, however, a weak signal at best.”
“Is
there anyone in the Waiting Room yet, Ziggy?” Dom asked.
“Negative,
Professor Lofton. I am having an unusually hard time maintaining my
neural link with Dr. Beckett’s brainwaves. It may take anywhere
from twenty-four to forty-eight hours to synchronize our timeframe
with his.”
That
news gave Sammy Jo slight cause for concern. “Well, keep me
informed, Ziggy,” she then ordered with a renewed determination.
“It seems like I’m going to be running the show until Al gets
back. Lofty, let me know the instant the Visitor shows up in the
Waiting Room, okay?”
“You
got it, Dr. Fuller,” Dom replied enthusiastically before he
corrected himself. “I mean, Sammy!” he added with a smile.
Sammy
Jo walked out of the Control Room with a new spark of hope igniting
within her heart.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Outside
Albuquerque International Sunport
Albuquerque,
New Mexico
March
17, 1984, 11:22 PM
“My
God, Alia!” Sam exclaimed. “It’s really you! I can’t believe
this!”
“How…
how do you know who I am?” Alia asked in confusion. “Who are
you?”
“Alia,
it’s me, Sam…” he started to answer back, but suddenly realized that
to her, he must have still looked like Gooshie. Unless… would she
be able to see through Gooshie’s aura if she looked closely
enough?
“Sam…”
Alia searched her memory. “You’re going to need to give me more
than just a first name. I’ve met a number of men named Sam in my
lifetime and you don’t look familiar to me at all.”
“Alia,
hold onto my shoulders and look closer,” he responded, convinced
that his theory would be proven. “Look deep into my eyes… it’s
me, Sam Beckett.”
As
she strained her tired-looking eyes to look deep into his gaze, the
vision of the short, goofy-looking man with reddish-brown hair
started to become transparent. Beyond the aura, she could indeed see
Sam’s green eyes and the white streak in his hair, and in an
instant, it all came back to her.
“Sam!” she shouted in astonishment. “It’s you! Wow, how long
has it been since you last saw me?”
Sam
searched his Swiss-cheese memory to try and recall their prior
meeting, but came up blank on a specific timeframe. “I’m… not
sure. From my perspective, it’s probably been a few years. I’m
guessing it must have been a lot longer for you, going by how much
older you look. I mean… uh… not that I was implying you were
old—I mean… oh, darn it…” Sam decided to quit while he was
behind.
Alia
simply gave him a weak smile and reassured him, “It’s all right,
Sam. I know what you meant. It has
been a lot longer for me. I’m almost forty now. The last time I
saw you, was at the ranch on Kingswood Farms in Virginia back in
’77. Do you remember any of that leap?”
Like
a flash of lightning, the image of a young thirty-something
blond-haired woman dismounting a horse filled Sam’s mind:
“Oh!
Good afternoon, Mr. Kidd. You startled me!”
Sam
froze, unhearing and in total shock as his eyes fell on her face.
“It's impossible,” he murmured in a barely audible tone as
pictures of past events flashed through his mind—a prison; a
shotgun; a dark-haired man with sad eyes; a college library; a
loud-mouthed punk in a letterman's jacket… and a cape? He dared
not move lest he break the chain of memories.
“Mr.
Kidd?” The woman said, her forehead wrinkling with worry when he
didn't respond. She took a step toward him, the horse shadowing her.
“Are you OK?”
She's
calling me Mr. Kidd, Sam's
mind finally registered. She doesn't have any idea of who I am!
Sam replied shakily, “What? Oh! I'm fine.”
“Are
you sure?” She didn't look convinced, but her step slowed.
“Yeah.
I'm sure.” The urge to run away overcame him and suddenly Sam's
feet began to move. “I… uh… forgot something.” He bolted
back into the house, carefully shutting the door and leaning on it,
his head on his arms. His heart was pounding furiously. “Oh my
God. That was Alia!” he breathed out loud.
(*From
Episode
724, “Fallen Hero, Part I”)
“I
remember!” exclaimed Sam. “You were… yourself. You couldn’t
see me when we touched.”
“Well,
I was back in my own aura,” Alia reminded Sam. “As I still am
now. The only reason I can vaguely see you now must be because I
still have some leftover leap energies inside of me that allow me to
see beyond your aura. I haven’t actually been a leaper in nearly
ten years.”
“I…
set you free!” Sam recalled. “But… how come you didn’t leap
home?”
“Lothos’
project was my home, Sam.
I couldn’t have very well been free if I remained there, now could
I?”
“No,
I guess you’re right,” Sam realized, a bit embarrassed he had
forgotten. “Well, then, how did you end up in 1977 as yourself?”
“I’m
not really sure, Sam. All I knew was that I just wanted the
nightmare to end. I can remember Zoë aiming the shotgun at me. I
pushed you out of the way, the shot was fired… and then, I felt a
completely different type of quantum energy envelop me. It was much
more serene than I had ever experienced before. I was floating…
drifting in a heavenly blue void. And… I heard a mysterious
voice…”
“A
voice?” Sam asked. Could it have been the same Voice he vaguely
remembered hearing often in-between his leaps?
“Yeah,
it was a… comforting voice, nothing like the cold fear that
Lothos’ voice exuded. It told me not to be frightened. ‘Think of
something peaceful,’ it told me. ‘Let my voice guide you to a
new time… a new place where you can start fresh.’ When I felt
the leap pull me back into the real world, I was standing on a dirt
road in the middle of nowhere. I was wearing a denim jacket and just
the clothes on my back and couldn’t really remember much of
anything at first.
“So,
I did the only thing I could think of doing—hitchhiked a ride with
the first pickup truck I saw pass by and hopped in. The guy driving
the truck was Jim Kidd, the man you leaped into when we met later
on. He was a gentle and caring man; he asked me where I was from and
where I was going, and I told him I couldn’t really remember. As I
looked in the side-view mirror, I saw my own reflection for the
first time in I don’t know how long. In that moment, my identity
came back to me and I told him my full name, Alia Novack, and that I
had no real ‘home’ to call my own. We began talking about a lot
of things, and he offered to give me a place to stay at his ranch.
He proposed I could work for him to pay off room and board, and
although I was nervous to say yes at first, I accepted his offer
graciously. He treated me like the daughter he always wished he
could have had before his wife died, and I really looked up to him.
I was living and working happily there for a little over eight
months when you came back to save me from Thames.”
“Thames…”
Sam recalled. “The tall black guy who leaped back to try and kill
us!”
“He
was about as sadistic as they come, next to Zoë. I managed to grab
a shotgun and shoot him in the back, just before he was about to
kill you. I’m not sure why, but I suddenly started shaking after
that. It’s not like I hadn’t killed anyone before, but it was
different with Thames somehow. And then, you leaped. I was so sure
that Lothos was going to send Zoë back to finish me off, but… he
didn’t.”
“I
destroyed Lothos, Alia,” Sam reassured her. “I tried saving Zoë,
but she chose to kill herself rather than be saved.”
“Zoë’s
dead?” Alia asked in shock. For about ten seconds, she seemed to
stare off into space before responding, “I can’t say I’m sad
to hear that, but… there’s a part of me that doesn’t believe
she’s really gone forever.”
“I
saw her die with my own eyes, Alia,” Sam reassured, remembering
how upset he felt over not being able to save her soul. “There
was… nothing I could do.”
“So…
Lothos’ reign has finally come to an end,” Alia said in
realization. “I never thought the day would come when I’d be
truly free from his influence.”
Deciding
it would be best to try to change the subject and with curiosity
peaking his interest as well, Sam asked, “So, what are you doing
in New Mexico? You seemed like you had found peace at the ranch.”
“A
few months after you left, Mr. Kidd’s truck was run off the road
in a terrible accident. Because he had no living relatives, he never
designated a beneficiary to his estate in his will. So, once it was
sold, I had no place to stay, and I had to move on.”
“I…
I had no idea,” said Sam earnestly.
“I
don’t really think there’s anything you could have done, Sam.
Anyway, I began traveling, not really knowing where I was headed or
what I should do with the rest of my life. At one point, I met a
really nice guy named Dane. He was a cop and we both took a liking
to each other. We dated for a while and started to get pretty
intimate. Then, after about five months, he was gunned down in the
line of duty.”
“Oh,
God… I’m so sorry,” Sam consoled her.
“So
am I,” Alia replied. “But, there was more. I… had a child with
him—a boy. He was born about seven months after Dane died.”
“My
God, did—did Dane know you were…”
“Yes,
he did. I… think he was going to ask me to marry him, but… he
never got the chance.”
“I…
I don’t know what to say, Alia. What ended up happening to your
son?” asked Sam, knowing he probably wouldn’t like hearing the
answer.
“I
wasn’t in a position to take care of myself financially, let alone
an infant. So… I gave him up for adoption. It pained me to do it,
but I felt I had no choice,” she said sadly.
Sam
just dropped his head, partly in sorrow, partly in shame. He had no
way of knowing what had happened to Alia since he had last seen her.
He inadvertently sent Alia from living a life of servitude by a
malicious half human-half computer, to a life filled with sorrow and
despair. He had to wonder if she had been any better off in the long
run.
A
sudden thought came to Sam’s mind. “How old is he now?”
“I’d
say about four years old. I know what you’re thinking, Sam, but
it’s too late. He has a family that takes care of him. He
wouldn’t even remember me now. And besides… I don’t even know
his name to find him.”
Sam
just remained silent as Alia continued to explain her situation.
“As
for why I’m here in New Mexico now, well… to be honest, I really
don’t know. It’s as if something inside me… compelled me to
come here. I felt drawn to this area for some reason. I’m tired of
drifting from place to place, Sam. I just want a place to stay, to
call my own.”
“Don’t
you have any family? Or an acquaintance that could take you in to
help you find your feet?”
Upon
mentioning the word “family,” Alia seemed to shudder
momentarily, almost as if that simple word caused her even more pain
than her recent experiences. The moment wasn’t lost on Sam.
“You…
left home when you were younger. I remember now! You said Nathaniel
Lothoman found you on the streets of London, but you never explained
how you wound up there.” At first, Sam wasn’t sure he should
press the issue further. But one look into her glossy eyes told him
that she wanted—needed—to
share her story with someone after all this time. He allowed her to
speak at her own pace.
Alia
swallowed hard as the tears began to form, and she dug deep into her
soul to dredge up the painful childhood she had long ago repressed
from her memory.
“My
father was one of those ‘tough-as-nails’ Marine men, always
moving their family around from base to base. Major Walter Novack
was the kind of man that always made sure everyone knew he was the
‘lord of his castle,’ and he expected his ‘loyal subjects’
to follow his orders right down to the letter. I don’t think I
ever remember seeing my father with a smile on his face, or giving
me any form of praise whatsoever.”
Even
in her head now, she could hear her father scream, “ALIA!”
as her thoughts returned back to her childhood.
“You
want to explain to me this report card of yours?” Walter yelled.
“Two Bs and a C?! What the hell am I
paying good money to give you a good education at a private school
if you can’t even get good grades?”
“Walter,
don’t yell at your daughter,” his wife yelled back. “You’re
treating her like she’s failing!”
“She
keeps this up, she WILL end up failing! And I don’t remember
ASKING for your opinion, Jenna! You’d best keep your big mouth
shut if you know what’s good for you! I was asking Alia
the question! She’s an intelligent girl, she can answer for
herself! So, I’ll ask you AGAIN, little lady, would you care to
explain these marks? Huh?”
The
ten-year-old Alia looked up at her father with fear in her eyes and
weakly responded, “I… I’ve been trying my best, father.”
“Well,
obviously, you’re not trying hard ENOUGH! How do you ever expect
to get by in this world if you perform at sub-standard levels?”
“Walter,
a couple of Bs is hardly reason to reprimand your daughter!” Jenna
tried to reason with him.
“I
thought I told you to shut your mouth! I
make the decisions around here, not you!
Alia, you get back to your room and wait until I decide on your
punishment!”
The
young Alia ran off crying, not knowing how to please her father.
He
always seemed to be mad at us for something—myself, for my
inability to live up to the high standards he set for me; my mother,
for her lack of discipline to “keep me in line”—but I think he
was mostly angry at the world and the conditions that kept him from
being promoted to General. An incident during his tour of duty left
him with a crippled right leg, which prevented him from doing
anything other than a “desk job.” He was ultimately given an
honorable discharge. It wasn’t too long after that before he began
turning to the bottle. At that point in time, we had been relocated
to London, in the U.K. Although my father was able to find work, my
mother still had to take a part-time job while I was in school to
help provide for us. Despite that, my father still expected her to
do what was “expected” of her as a wife and mother… no
questions asked.
“When’s
dinner gonna be ready, babe?” a drunk Walter asked Jenna.
“Dinner’s
running a little late, Walter, I’m sorry,” she responded.
“Jeez,
Jenna, I’m starvin’ here! And look at this filthy pigsty!
Clothes hangin’ on the chairs, dust covering shelves… what the
hell are you doing in the afternoon when you’re home with Alia?”
“There’re
a lot of things I need to do during the day, Walter! You know, I
wouldn’t have to constantly run around trying to tend to the house
if you chipped in a little bit when I was busy!” she said as
respectfully as she could.
“Excuse
me?” Walter asked angrily. “I do plenty,
working and providing for my ungrateful
family! I know MY place; you would do well to be reminded of
YOURS!”
“That’s
either the old-fashioned mentality or the booze talking,” Jenna
muttered under her breath. The remark was just loud enough, however,
for Walter to hear.
“What
did you just say?” Walter yelled through his gritted teeth.
“N-nothing!
It’s not important,” Jenna replied nervously.
“Like
HELL it was nothing! What the hell gives you the right to question
the way I run my household, you stupid bitch?”
As he asked her the question, he slapped her across the face,
turning her cheek a bright red.
The
young Alia, now thirteen years old, stood in the hallway outside her
room, listening to the argument unfold. When she saw her father slap
her mother across the face, she couldn’t remain silent. The man
might have been her father, but she knew it was wrong to hit
someone.
“Stop
it, Dad! Don’t hurt Mom! She does more than enough to take care of
us without you barking at her!” she yelled as she grabbed a hold
of Walter’s arm to prevent him from slapping Jenna a second time.
“WHAT
DID YOU SAY, you little BRAT?!” He turned around with a furious
glare in his eyes and slapped Alia with his other hand. “Don’t
you DARE show disrespect to me ever again, you hear me? EVER! I
think it’s time you learned the lesson my father taught me
whenever I mouthed off to him!”
Walter
quickly unloosened the belt around his waist and wrapped it tightly
around his fist as he moved closer to Alia. Never feeling more
frightened in her life, she crawled backward, begging her father not
to punish her. “Please, Dad, I’m sorry! Please! I promise to
give you the respect you deserve!” she pleaded through her tears.
“You
bet your ASS you will when I’m done teaching you respect!” he
shot back as he pelted her once, then again just as quickly.
Jenna
ran back into the room to try to hold her husband back. He had
reprimanded Alia before, even spanked her many times when she was
younger, but never went to this extreme. “Damn it, Walter, stop
this! She doesn’t deserve your rage!”
“DON’T
tell ME how to raise my daughter, BITCH!” With those words, he
punched Jenna with his free hand, knocking her to the ground in a
withering heap. Turning his rage back to Alia, he continued his
assault, striking her with his belt as many times as it took before
he felt confident enough that his “discipline” was engrained in
her brain forever.
Seeing
his daughter and wife lying on the ground, helpless and crying
pathetically, Walter decided that the best course of action was to
go out for the night and let them think hard about what they did and
why he had to “punish” them. He muttered something under his
breath and then went to the closet to get his coat and put it on as
he walked toward the front door. Speaking loudly enough for his
“subjects” to hear him, he exclaimed, “I’m goin’ out for
the rest of the night! I expect the both of you to start cleanin’
up your act and show me nothin’ but respect from this day
forward!”
As
the door slammed shut, the youthful Alia slowly and painfully
crawled over to her mother, still lying hunched over on the floor
with bloodshot eyes filled with pain and fear. She tried her best to
hug her mother, to comfort her, but Jenna seemed to drift off into
her own world, continuously whispering, “It’s all my fault!
It’s all my fault!”
Something
in me snapped after that. My father had always instilled fear in me,
but when he physically assaulted my mother and I for the first time,
I felt genuinely afraid that he would kill us. I had heard all the
stories about husbands and fathers who fell into the cycle of
abusing their families. I had never been able to understand why
those men’s wives could be so stupid and weak as to actually
convince themselves that they were to blame for their husbands’
behavior, and yet, here she was, my own mother beginning to believe
it herself. I knew then that I couldn’t allow the cycle of abuse
to destroy us. I had to take action.
Many
hours later, Walter stumbled through the front door into a dark
living room. Before he had the chance to turn on the lights, he
heard the sound of his gun being cocked and looked up to see Alia
aiming it straight at his chest.
“Alia?
What the HELL are you doing with that gun?! Put that damn thing away
or you’ll end up hurting someone!” he screamed at her.
“Yeah!
Maybe YOU!” Alia shot back at him. “I don’t want to hurt you,
Dad, but if you don’t stop your drinking and treating Mom and I
like crap, I will, I swear
it!”
“Alia?”
the two individuals could hear Jenna ask, as she walked into the
living room wearing a robe and stopped dead in her tracks.
“Walter? Alia? What’s going on?”
“It
has to stop, mother,” Alia said nervously as the gun started
shaking in her hands. “He can’t be allowed to hurt us! He has to
learn to control his temper and stop his drinking!”
“Alia!
PUT–THE–GUN–DOWN!” Walter said cautiously but sternly.
“You have the AUDACITY to point a gun—MY gun, that I keep in the
house to protect MY family—at ME? You’re some piece of work,
Jenna! Encouraging my own daughter to defy me!”
“What?!”
Jenna screamed. “I never
did anything of the sort, Walter!”
Walter
took a step toward Jenna, preparing to show her the back of his fist
again, as Alia shifted on her feet, preparing herself to pull the
trigger. Smirking at her with a mocking expression, Walter simply
said, “You wouldn’t DARE pull that trigger, Alia! I mean, really!
Look at you… your hands are shaking! You’re a cowering,
disrespectful girl who needs to be kept in line! As soon as I
reprimand your mother, you’re next, little lady!”
He
continued moving toward Jenna, not taking his daughter’s threat
seriously as he turned his back to her. “STOP!” Alia pleaded.
“Please, father, don’t make me—”
BANG!
BANG!
Two
shots in the dark were fired, and Walter stopped moving as he felt
the bullets hit his back. “Alia? She… actually… shot me?”
His eyes went wide with realization as he fell to the floor.
“Oh
God, Walter!” Jenna raced over to his fallen body, and as she
touched his back, her hands were covered in blood. “My God, Alia,
what did you do? Call an ambulance! Hurry! ALIA! Are you listening
to me?”
The
young Alia just stood there in shock over what she had done. She
lowered the arm that held the still-smoking gun and fell to her
knees, as she realized that her world had changed forever.
“The
paramedics eventually came and took my father to the hospital. It
was touch and go for a while, but he survived. He ended up being
paralyzed from the waist down though. And the cycle of abuse stopped
too. It took two shots in the back from a terrified daughter to make
him realize what he had become. I, on the other hand, lost my
innocence that night and couldn’t bear to face my family anymore.
So… I left. I haven’t seen them since. It wasn’t long after
that when Nathaniel Lothoman discovered me and used his charm to
‘seduce’ me into joining him on his grand experiment.”
Sam
shook his head in disbelief over her account. “Oh, Alia, I am so
sorry!” He thought back to his own father, John Beckett, and the
kind and loving family man that he was to his wife and children.
“I… can’t fathom how any
man could do that to their own wife and daughter!”
“Not
everyone can have the kind of peachy-keen
family that you grew up
with, Sam!” Alia said snidely. “Most of us don’t have the
luxury of living on a huge farm with parents and siblings who
respect and love each other!”
Sam
heard her remark and looked at her with guilt in his eyes. He
didn’t know how to respond to something like that, although he’d
been sure that Al used to have conversations like this with him in
the past.
Alia
noticed Sam’s discomfort and immediately apologized. “I’m
sorry, Sam. I know you didn’t have control over your life. It was
out of line for me to imply you were intentionally rubbing your
family’s morals in my face.”
“That’s
quite all right, Alia. I might not completely understand what you
went through, but I can sympathize,” Sam responded as a light bulb
suddenly went off in his brain. “In fact… I think you’re the
reason I leaped here and not at the Project.”
“What
are you talking about?” Alia asked, confused.
Sam
shook his head, realizing that it was now after midnight, and he
needed to start the drive back to the Star Bright Project. “That
must be the other thing I need to do. Follow me to my car. I’ll
explain it on the way. Come on!”
INTERLUDE
Meanwhile, in Washington,
D.C…
Ex-Rear
Admiral Albert Calavicci had reached an impasse with the Senate
Committee. Despite his wife Beth’s reassurances that the Committee
would listen to reason, he and General Hawkins seemed to be hitting
a “road-bump” in their quest to obtain additional funding for
the Project. Al’s reasons, of course, were so that he could pull
out every resource at Ziggy’s disposal to find Sam; Hawkins’
reasons, Al concluded, were purely out of ambition so that he could
gain control of the Project’s directives and personally oversee
Sam’s leaps. Knowing this about Hawkins didn’t help matters any,
and Al was almost certain that the tension between the two of them
was not lost on the Committee.
Although
Beth’s presence in Washington was strictly to provide moral
support for her husband, she had begun sensing something odd about
Al’s behavior within the past several hours. Being as vocal as he
was about Hawkins wasn’t a big surprise, because she was used to
hearing her husband’s blunt comments for more than forty years.
What disturbed her was that Al began expressing doubts about ever
finding Sam at all. He as much as told her that he didn’t know why
he was even bothering trying to keep the Project up-and-running,
because Sam had never disappeared for this long and was most likely
gone forever at this point. It didn’t sound like Al at all to just
start giving up, but she dismissed it as the amount of stress her
husband was under and told him to try to remain optimistic.
Whether
he chose to take her advice or not, she couldn’t tell. But she
decided that now would not be the best time to argue with her
husband. Right now, he needed her support, regardless of how
helpless he was feeling. In the back of her mind, she hoped and
prayed that a miracle would soon happen to restore Al’s spirits.
PART
THREE
Project
Quantum Leap
Stallion’s
Gate, New Mexico
Waiting
Room, Present Day
As
the blue rays of light faded, the aura of Dr. Samuel Beckett
returned to the Waiting Room after a three-month absence. The
Visitor experienced the standard disorientation that was normally
associated with being replaced in time and called out to no one in
particular, “Hello? Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?”
Minutes
went by before he got any form of response. The synthetic and
sexy-sounding feminine voice that seemed to permeate from every
direction brought the Visitor to a state of alertness. “Do
not be frightened. Someone is on their way and will be with you
shortly.”
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