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

In 2006, an e-mail message has been circulated to a vast number of people in an attempt to unite any living leapees to find answers to their questions at Project Quantum Leap. J.T. Beckett, Sam’s nephew and a former leapee, replies through a chat room link in the e-mail and tells all he knows about the project, and then decides to meet other leapees there with Tom Beckett in tow.

Sam finds himself in a town called Hope Springs just outside of Washington D.C. The year is 1985 and Sam is Brad Bennings, an out-of-work actor who used to make public appearances as a fictitious television superhero impersonator by the name of Captain Liberty. Apparently, Brad took the role seriously as he recently had begun patrolling the city at night to fight crime. Meanwhile, Admiral Calavicci has his hands full trying to figure out who sent the e-mail all over the country, and having to deal with General Hawkins who has taken a rather strong interest in Sam’s current leap. Because Hawkins realized Sam’s project worked in a previous leap, the General has now brought the President into the loop, and through Presidential authorization, Hawkins has instituted a lockdown of the project until Sam’s leap is completed.

Shortly after the leap-in, Sam is attacked by a couple of hoods named T and G who work for Darius Dreck, the man in charge of crime in Hope Springs. Wounded in the attack, Sam managed to get away and was picked up by none other than Dr. Garner, who was on his way back from seeing the Sam Beckett of 1985 give a physics lecture in D.C. Sam had met him before in a leap in 1959 (*See “Guinea Pig,” Parts I & II), and before long, Dr. Garner realizes that it is Sam again. Meanwhile, General Hawkins has ordered Sam to maintain the illusion that he is Brad, and that means wearing the Captain Liberty suit at night to fight crime. To make matters worse, the leapees had begun to arrive at the project, somehow bypassing the lockdown security codes…

As Sam was getting used to a life of fighting crime, a new threat emerged in the form of Dr. Maxwell Connors (*See “Second Genesis,” Parts I & II), who leaped into Darius Dreck. During another fight with T and G, the latter is killed and T learns of the identity of Brad Bennings as Captain Liberty before escaping. At the same time, Connors has learned that a younger Sam Beckett will be giving a lecture in D.C. the following day.

In Project Quantum Leap’s present, Hawkins has ordered that Sam must attend his younger self’s lecture. It is believed that Dr. Braden, who stole time-travel secrets from Sam and Dr. Garner in the past, will be present at the lecture to sell those secrets. Sam finally begins to realize that he is to blame for the evil project that used Alia and Zoë, and believes that capturing Braden would prevent that. However, temptation mounts for Sam as he realizes he could warn himself about stepping into the Accelerator and never leaping at all. At the lecture, trouble quickly looms as Sam’s chances of finding Braden are thwarted by Connors’ scheme…

The side door nearest the stage opened and a very young Sam Beckett entered the room, escorted by hotel security. With a cheery smile, he waved and greeted the people in the room, who answered him with thunderous applause. The man at the podium urged the crowd to be quiet as younger Sam approached. “Please be seated, everyone. As soon as everyone has been served and finished eating, we will have our special guest presentation.”

Sam sat at his table and watched himself in wonder as his younger self was brought a large plate of food. There he was, young with his future ahead of him, only a short time away before Star Bright would take up a large piece of his life. Young enough to be his own person, to be himself, not trapped in time. The temptation to meet himself began to manifest itself.

Just then, Garner grabbed Sam’s arm. “Look over in the back right corner table. Is it him?”

Sam looked over to where Garner had pointed out and saw a table with three people sitting at it. One man in a fancy expensive suit had his back to him; another man with Middle Eastern features was talking animatedly as he looked through the contents of a briefcase before him. The third person was in a basic gray suit and tie and looked like he was living out of a suitcase. His hair, which once was black, now had lines of silver in it and was cut extremely short; a thick pepper-colored beard covered his face beneath a pair of dark framed eyeglasses. Braden’s face lit up with joy, as the man with his back to Sam pushed a briefcase in the direction of the British scientist. Not looking inside it, Braden quickly placed the new briefcase under the table.

The leaper’s heart sank. It was Braden, he was sure of it. The man was selling his secrets right out in the open at the banquet hall, ironically in the presence of a young Beckett who had yet to test his time-travel experiments. If I could talk to myself, this will never happen, he thought. Braden is probably here to make sure I get support so that someday he’ll get rich off of me. Before he could think about that any further, a steak knife appeared at his throat.

“Fancy meeting you here, hero,” whispered T into Sam’s ear. “I thought you looked familiar, Mr. Bennings. Just sit back and watch the show. When my boss gets through with that guy on the stage, I’ll take care of you personally.”

Sam’s eyes widened at the implication of what was about to happen. Boss gets through with the man on stage? Someone was about to go after his younger self. But how? Until this morning, nothing with his leap as Brad had anything to do with himself. How could this be happening?

Just a few tables ahead, Dr. Connors dressed like a chef, motioned for Vincent and Bruno, positioned on both sides of the room dressed as servers, to advance to the front of the stage.

Garner looked on in horror as Sam was held at knifepoint, not knowing that two of the other banquet servers and a chef were advancing towards the stage, targeting the younger version of the man sitting next to him.

“Ohh, boy…” groaned Garner.

PART ONE

T lowered the steak knife away and pressed it against Sam’s back. “No need to attract attention yet, so just stay cool, man.” The thug turned to his left. “You, old timer, stay quiet too and do as you’re told.”

Dr. Garner’s eyes switched back and forth from Sam to the table in the corner. The three men were apparently done concluding their business as other servers brought them their meals. Braden politely declined his dish.

With a whoosh, the Imaging Chamber Door flew open and Al rushed through wearing his Admiral whites. His momentum took him into the middle of the table Sam and Dr. Garner were being held prisoner at. Seeing the table centerpiece sticking through him, he quickly took a step back.

“Sam, listen up. Everything’s hitting the fan. Ziggy is heading for a major breakdown. Braden is here and so is another leaper!” Al started waving for Sam to get up. “It took forever for Ziggy to get me all this information. Sam, would you get up!” The handlink squealed like mad suddenly. “What the hell? Sam, now Ziggy says if you don’t do something, your younger self is gonna disappear in the next ten minutes!” Suddenly, Al caught sight of T standing behind his friend. “What’s going on here?” The observer walked around the table and saw the knife pressing against Sam’s back. “Oh, shit. What is this? Beckett Appreciation Day?” Sam gave him a helpless look for advice as the Admiral continued, “You have to do something soon, Sam. Braden is about to leave, Bennings is gonna die, and your other self is gonna vanish. If that happens, history is gonna go ca-ca!”

A much younger Sam Beckett was halfway through his meal when he started to feel sick. Holding his stomach, a wave of nausea hit him without warning. Grabbing a napkin, he quickly wiped his mouth and then got up to leave.

“Is something wrong, Dr. Beckett?” asked the emcee, the man who had introduced him into the room just moments earlier.

Younger Sam mopped at his brow. “Not feeling well all of a sudden. Think I’m getting feverish.”

The emcee took a fork and probed at Sam’s plate. “I don’t think it’s the food. Everything looks cooked appropriately. Besides, most of us are eating the same thing and no one else has gotten a reaction.”

More nausea overcame the younger Beckett, and he immediately excused himself to head for the hallway outside in search of a bathroom. As he headed for the steps to leave the stage, an odd sight hit him. Amid the calm of the guests dining on their meals, a Naval officer in dress whites was screaming animatedly at a table in the back. He could almost make out what the man was screaming, but for some unknown reason, it sounded distorted like radio static at times. To top it off, the image of the officer seemed to flicker like a bad television signal. Shaking his head, young Beckett attributed it to whatever was making him feel sick.

At the bottom of the steps, a chef approached him. “Are you feeling ill?” Connors asked.

“Something is definitely disagreeing with me,” answered young Beckett, trying to steady himself as the sickness brought on dizziness.

Connors reached out to steady him. “Perhaps I should assist you in finding someplace where you will feel better.” By now, people were starting to watch what was going on.

“I believe this is the moment for you to make your move, Doctor,” Morpheus cautioned the rogue leaper. “The window of opportunity is beginning to close rapidly.”

As Morpheus began to speak, a younger guest at a table near the buffet table stood up and screamed as he covered his ears. “That loud buzzing noise, make it stop!”

“Hurry, Dr. Connors,” Morpheus continued, causing the man in pain to scream again. “I have been detecting another temporal anomaly in this room. The other Dr. Beckett is here somewhere.”

Sick as the younger Beckett was, he still tried to walk to the man in distress. Connors tried to hold him back as Sam countered, “I’m a doctor. I can help him.”

To the confusion of the other Sam, Connors muttered under his breath, “How long have you known? When were you going to tell me this?”

“I cannot ascertain Dr. Beckett’s precise location here due to a quantum signal that is interfering with my program. I believe this interference is originating from a neurological transmission being emitted by Dr. Beckett’s holographic observer, who has likely been masking his presence here. He is within the vicinity as well. I advise that you do not let the other Dr. Beckett touch you. It will set up a magnetic convergence field that will allow both of them to see you as yourself and not as Dreck.”

Al’s handlink beeped again. “Sam, this is hard to believe. That man over there yelling is Dr. Maxwell Connors. Ziggy says he is the other leaper. No, wait. What the—? Ziggy says there are two Connors here. The Connors in pain is not the leaper Connors, but a younger one!”

All Sam could do was slightly nod grimly that he understood as T watched the younger Connors holding tightly to his ears, the knife still held to the leaper’s back. Looking up from his link to Ziggy, Al noticed movement towards the exit door close to the stage. “Sam, those guys are up to something with your other self. One of them must be the other Connors. I don’t know how, Sam, but you gotta get out of this.”

While all of the patrons turned their attention to the man in pain, satisfaction came to Connors. He had remembered that his younger self attended this conference and gambled that he would be adversely susceptible to Morpheus’s communications. Although he hated to put that younger self in this position, it was deemed a necessary and acceptable risk. With a twisted smile, Connors hurriedly escorted young Beckett out the door, explaining to the people standing there that Dr. Beckett was sick and needed some air. Bruno and Vincent hurried along after. The exit door closed shut and young Sam was out of the room.

Poking the knife a bit further, T leaned closer to Sam. “Time to get going.”

“That’s no concern of yours, old timer,” snarled T, indicating with his knife that Sam was to stand up. “Mr. Bennings and I have a trip to take. Get up,” he ordered Sam, who slowly rose to his feet. “Now, very casually, you will walk out the exit and leave the building. Any tricks and you’re dead, man.”

“Sam,” Al interjected, “if you leave with this nozzle, Braden is gonna get away, and Hawkins made it clear we can’t fail this mission.”

With a defeated look, Sam rose to his feet and proceeded to head for the exit with T right behind him. “Al,” Sam whispered, “check on the other me.”

“Oh, God,” muttered Al, who for once seemed totally helpless. “Both Sams are in trouble, Brad is gonna die, and Braden is gonna escape.” Sighing, he looked up to the ceiling. “I could use some help about now.” Getting no answer, he yelled, “Dom, center me on the other Sam!”

Just as Al vanished, Garner rose to his feet, nearly colliding with another man. Fear and recognition showed in his face as he locked eye contact with the other man and exclaimed, “Braden!”

The inside of the tent, Sammy Jo found upon entering, was sparsely furnished. A small table for Hawkins to sit behind was at one end facing a couple of folding chairs. A cadet was off to one side working a video camera on a tripod. Guards stood both inside and outside of the entrance flap.

“Well, Miss Fuller,” said the General, pointing to a chair next to him. “Please have a seat.” He turned to one of the guards. “I think we’re ready for the first one.” The guard saluted and left. “I hope this goes better than earlier,” Hawkins turned to Sammy Jo. “I talked to both of those Becketts this morning and neither one would tell me anything. Those two are hiding something from me, especially the younger one.”

The guard returned with the first leapee. “For your questioning, sir,” he saluted and resumed his post at the flap.

Hawkins stared at the man in front of him. The General guessed the person was in his early sixties, with silver hair, clear complexion, and a pair of black eyeglasses sitting atop a hawkish nose.

“No, I am afraid not,” Hawkins replied. “I would be more worried about the fact that you marched onto a military instillation than I would be about someone else, sir. First off, name please, and a little about yourself.”

The leapee cleared his throat. “My name is Cameron Wilson, sixty-two years of age. Most people call me Cam. I am a retired used car salesman from Pasadena, California. My wife, Jill, was unable to come with me due to her illness.”

“I am sorry to hear that, Mr. Wilson.” Hawkins shifted in his chair. “If you don’t mind, I need you to supply me with answers. For example, how did you get here? What has brought you here before us right now?”

“Yes, I know about it,” Hawkins stated abruptly. “Anything to add on that?”

“Years ago, back in 1961, I lost a few days of my life. There was no explanation for it. I awoke from a bad dream and found out I had a girlfriend. Not that I am mad about that, since Dr. Beckett helped fix us up and I eventually married her.”

“Don’t jump around, Mr. Wilson,” instructed the General. “Try to keep your story in order.”

“Yes, sir,” swallowed Cam. “As I said, I lost moments of my life to some fuzzy recollection. For years, even after Jill and I got married and opened a business selling and repairing used classic cars, I was bothered by dreams. People hovering over me in some strange blue room, God, it seems like it was yesterday, the memories are still that vivid. Then recently, I got that e-mail and it told of a chat room that would be running soon. In that chat room, there were others like me who told of nearly the exact same experiences. Then something happened, a newcomer to the chat room came in and started posting fantastic stories about a time-travel experiment, a scientist named Dr. Beckett, and a project in Stallion’s Gate, New Mexico. It sounded incredulous, but everyone in that chat room decided to see if it was on the level. We all thought, why not all meet in person and then go find this project. After we gathered in Albuquerque, we made our way here. Considering the reception your soldiers have given us, I would bet everything is true, isn’t it?”

Hawkins ignored the question and gave one of his own. “Everyone just decided to come here and you just showed up? How was this done?”

“I don’t think I should answer that question, sir,” stated Cam. “This is a bit too early for me these days. I don’t think too well on an empty stomach. Is there a mess hall that has a burger and a shake or something?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Wilson,” Hawkins said gruffly. “That is all, you are dismissed.”

As the leapee got up to leave, Sammy Jo asked, “Hey Cam, how is your sister Cheryl?”

A smile came to Cam’s face. “She and her husband are fine. They both do missionary work sometimes, but not as much as they used to. Both of them are happy, another thanks to Dr. Beckett, I suppose.”

“Dismissed?” Cam turned back from the tent flap. “That’s all? You won’t even tell me what will happen to me or to any of us outside? It’s not just the people that Dr. Beckett encountered that are out there, General. Some of us have brought along our families. There are children, and even grandchildren, of the people whose lives were affected by that man. They were brought here to show the difference that Sam has made, and we want him to know about it and maybe even thank him for it.” Without waiting for a response from Hawkins, Cam turned and stormed out of the tent.

Admiral Al Calavicci found himself out in the parking lot of the Sheraton, looking for any telltale signs of the younger Sam Beckett. It didn’t take long for him to spot Connors in the persona of Darius Dreck, accompanied by his two servants, tough Italian-looking types. Each of them was taking turns moving Sam along as they removed their kitchen worker disguises. They all stopped near the observer alongside a Rolls Royce.

“Sam?!” Al yelled, not giving a damn about rules or paradoxes. “I hope to God you can hear me.” The observer wasn’t sure, but it looked like young Beckett could.

Young Sam groaned, looking very sick to his stomach, as he tried to find where the familiar voice was coming from. For some reason, it sounded like someone he knew from back at the Star Bright Project.

“Sam, you can hear me?” Al let out a huge gasp of air. “I know you’re out of it right now. Those yutzes must have drugged your food and waited for you to get sick so they could get you out of here…” He stopped as he noticed Connors and the other two open the back door of the Rolls and start to push Sam into it. “No, no, nooo! Stop! This isn’t supposed to happen like this. Dom, center me back on our Sam!”

Al vanished only to appear a few yards back. T was now walking up to his Buick parked next to the Rolls, with Sam being pushed in front of him.

“This is just getting better and better,” lamented the hologram, noticing Sam watching his younger self being put in the Rolls.

“I have my reasons, boss. This is the guy who killed G. This is Captain Liberty. I finally caught him. Now I’m gonna take him back with us and have some fun with him.”

“Captain Liberty?” Connors suddenly realized that this was who Dreck had sent these men after to eliminate and decided to remain in character. “Doesn’t look like much of a hero to me without his costume,” the rogue leaper remarked as he meant to push Sam aside to get in his car.

As the two men brushed, each experienced an odd tingling sensation. Suddenly, the hefty man appeared to shift his features and shorten in size as he now looked like another person. Connors also witnessed an odd transformation as Brad shifted into the features of the older version of the person he was presently abducting.

“The ‘current’ Dr. Beckett, I presume,” intoned the rogue leaper’s neural link. “His holographic observer must be nearby which explains why I couldn’t pinpoint the doctor’s precise location once again.”

Shock came quickly to Connors’ face as he tried to conceal his excitement. “This man will be adequate insurance, although we have the one that truly matters,” Connors reasoned to T, as the other two had young Beckett secured in the back seat. Vincent went to the front and started up the engine as Bruno got into the rear passenger seat next to Sam. “This hero will insure that nothing can jeopardize my plan. Place him in the Buick. When we get back to the warehouse, do with him as you wish.” Dr. Connors opened the other rear door of the Rolls and climbed in, ordering Vincent to head back to the warehouse in Hope Springs. The vehicle took off at top speed, nearly colliding with a Ford that almost seemed to be following them out to the highway.

As the Rolls sped off out of the parking lot, T had already opened his car trunk and produced a handgun to replace his steak knife. “Get in, hero,” T gestured with the gun towards the trunk. Helpless, Sam could only obey and squeeze into the trunk.

“This is insane,” Al yelled to no one. “Sam, you have to fight back. Ziggy says that once Connors takes the younger you back to his warehouse, you’ll disappear and never be found.”

But Sam could only duck his head as T slammed the trunk door down on him. Not wasting a second, he hopped behind the dashboard and started up his car. T wasted no time peeling out of his parking space as he roared to the exit.

“I’ll find you and kill you myself, punk,” Al shook his fist at the Buick. “Dom, center me on the other Sam!”

PART TWO

In the back of the Rolls, cruising down the highway back to Hope Springs, young Beckett was sweating feverishly, mumbling incoherently. Dr. Connors reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a flask.

“No, you fool,” replied Connors. “This is the antidote for the poison I put in his food.”

“What gives, boss?” Vincent asked from the driver’s seat. “Why go through all this trouble to poison the guy, abduct him, and then revive him. Why not just give him more poison and let him die.”

“Yeah, boss,” chimed in Vincent. “What’s so important about this guy? You come up with the plan to nab him, you show your face in the D.C. area which I thought you said once was a dangerous thing to do, and then blow a perfectly good chance to waste this scientist guy.”

Connors held the flask up to Sam’s mouth and forced him to drink it. “This man is very important to me. Eliminating him back in the hotel was not the right way to accomplish my goal. I need to buy some more time before I can figure out what needs to be done.”

Coughing, Sam’s health seemed to improve. Some color came to his cheeks as he fought to clear his head.

Vincent looked at his rearview mirror. “Hey, boss, I think there’s a Ford back there trying to follow us. It keeps matching my speed and staying back of us.”

Connors looked out the back window and noticed the Ford, thinking of the car that almost hit them in the parking lot. “Lose that car,” he commanded.

A look of surprise came upon Wellington’s face as Dr. Garner approached the Cadillac. The butler had spent his time in the Sheraton gift shop after he had dropped Sam and Garner off, looking for a newspaper to read. After his purchase, he had gone back to the car to peruse over current events.

It was now nearly an hour later, and only Dr. Garner had returned holding a damp cloth to his head, wincing now as cop cars and an ambulance proceeded to arrive at the parking lot, sirens blaring. Most of the officers jumped out and a medical team rushed in.

Garner waved him off as he climbed into the passenger side of the car. “Get the car started. I’ll explain later.”

Wellington did not question his boss as he turned the engine over and headed out of the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

“That Buick that just shot out of here. Go after it and to hell with the speed limit.”

Garner shot back in his seat as Wellington cut off cars and accelerated onto the highway. The Cadillac was approaching dangerous speeds as it zipped in and out of traffic. Angry motorists honked their horns in disapproval.

After about a minute, Garner spotted a brown car speeding recklessly ahead. “There’s the Buick!”

Vincent made good time making the exit for Hope Springs. It wasn’t long before they would be back at the warehouse. As the car approached the bottom of the ramp, it turned right and headed towards the entrance to the city limits. Shortly after, the road narrowed down to a one-way lane.

“Hey, boss,” observed Vincent, “I don’t think that Ford is behind us anymore.”

“Excellent work,” praised the rogue leaper, who was starting to feel good about completing his mission. Both Becketts captured by him at the same time. Nothing was going to stop him now.

Young Beckett looked around slowly. The effects of the poison were wearing off and he was starting to feel better. However, his disorientation continued as he realized there were two strangers seated on either side of him.

“At last I have you where I want you, Dr. Beckett,” commented Connors. “Forgive me if I fail to introduce myself. I am afraid that doing so would just be even more confusing for everyone. All you need to know is that your existence poses a significant threat to humanity. By abducting you, I am about to do the world a favor.”

Sam was about to comment on how crazy he thought Connors was, when he saw a very disturbing sight. Outside of the car, almost seemingly floating on thin air was the Naval officer he thought he had remembered seeing at the convention. With a start, it almost appeared that the apparition seemed to know he was spotted. A split second later, the floating man appeared to have said something, and disappeared before Sam could get a good look at him.

“Just sit back and enjoy the last few moments of your life, Dr. Beckett,” started Connors. “It will be coming to an end very soon.”

“Don’t count on that just yet, Doctor,” Morpheus spoke up, almost startling Connors.

Without warning, Vincent slammed on the breaks. All at once, everyone doubled forward and then just as fast returned upright in their seats.

“Traffic jam,” answered Vincent. “Ah, dammit, it looks like the roads are blocked off up ahead for that Memorial Day thing over at the athletic field.”

“I can’t,” Vincent said in frustration. “This is a one-way street. There are people backed up behind me and I don’t have the room for a U-turn.” It was true. On one side were a series of row homes and on the other were parked cars along the curb.

“Damn, we can’t just sit here,” fumed Connors, watching in dread as people in the cars behind him started filing out and walking towards the festival. “Back in your cars, people,” he screamed at them. “It’s no use. Everyone is illegally parking on this side street.”

“Sir, if we can make it down the road to the athletic field. The warehouse is just a bit farther on the other side past the river.”

Resigned to his only option, Connors conceded, “All right, Bruno, we walk. It won’t do us much good to just wait here and let the police find us. None of these cars are going anywhere, so it seems our only option is to blend in with the people in the festival and get to the warehouse. If we walk down any of the other streets in plain sight, we might be spotted.” Connors saw his reflection in the window, a big hefty shaven-headed man. “This could be a problem; it appears I am too big of a person to hide that easily.” Looking over, he saw a man walking at the edge of the athletic field pushing a large cart covered with cotton candy. It would easily provide cover for him to hide behind and cause people to move faster to let him by. “Gentlemen, there is my ticket to make it through this crowd and get to the other side. Unfortunately, we cannot wait for our insurance policy in the Buick.” He turned to Sam. “That means full cooperation from you. Please do not try to escape from us.”

“Get moving,” Bruno growled, shoving Sam forward as they headed for the athletic field and the festival, closing in on the man with the cotton candy cart.

A few minutes later, T had run into a similar situation. The side street had suddenly stopped and everyone was parking wherever they could. Cursing under his breath, he sat there for a few minutes before turning off the car and running back towards the trunk, his gun still sitting on the front seat.

Fumbling for the keys, T frantically tried to unlock it. Carelessly moving too fast, the keys fell from his hand, bounced off his leg, and landed onto the pavement underneath the car. Getting down on his hands and knees, he felt around until he picked them back up from behind a tire. Triumphantly, he selected the right key and placed it in the lock. As he opened the trunk, a voice behind him yelled, “Hold it right there. Don’t turn around.”

T spun around to see Wellington and Garner standing behind him. “What army is gonna stop me, man,” he laughed. “The two of you?”

“Not them,” answered Al, who popped in just seconds before. “Sam, if you can hear me, kick the door hard!”

Suddenly, the trunk shot upward, slamming into T and knocking him to the pavement. Before anyone could make a move, T got up and ran off limping down the street towards the festival.

Slowly, Sam crawled out, holding his sore back. “Thanks. Am I glad to see everyone. There wasn’t much room in there. What’s going on?” Upon seeing the hologram, Sam added, “Al, Connors is here. He touched me, he knows I’m Brad.”

“Sam,” Garner cut in solemnly, touching his forehead. “Braden got away. He knocked me down at the banquet room and escaped. Looks like your mission failed. As far as your other self, I don’t know.”

Al’s handlink chirped. “Sam, your other self is being taken towards the festival up the road. They must be trying to lose themselves in the crowd before they take you to their warehouse. Ziggy says that it is on the other side of the athletic field. Head for the festival, I’m gonna have Dom try to get a lock on you in that big crowd. If Connors is with you, I might be able to get a better fix through him.”

“My friend Al says we need to go to the festival,” Sam repeated as he started to run down the street.

“Hold on a minute,” Garner called after him. Wellington stooped down to pick up a large duffel bag he had carried with him from the car and tossed it to Sam.

A curious look came over the leaper’s face as he looked inside. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Sam, even if this Connors person knows who you are as Brad, Captain Liberty, or as your real self, this town needs its hero to save the day. Since Brad started doing this weeks ago, the town’s morale has really improved.”

The hologram looked up from the handlink. “He’s right, Sam. Ziggy says the importance of you wearing the costume is 99.8%.”

The leaper took the bag. “I’ll change when we get there. Al, get going.” The Admiral tapped a button and was gone.

“We’re only gonna slow you down, Sam,” reasoned Garner, “so don’t wait for us. Go as fast as you can.” The leaper nodded and ran off towards the festival.

Wellington approached Dr. Garner. “Sir, when there is ample opportunity, I hope you will fill me in on what the hell is going on?”

Two people now stood before General Hawkins and Sammy Jo. One was a young adult male in his early twenties while the other appeared to be a much older version in his early seventies and carrying a wooden cane. After a nod from Hawkins, they took their seats.

“Am I to understand that the two of you arrived in the trailer with all the hi-tech equipment?”

“Interesting,” Hawkins mused. “I have had my top computer experts go over the exterior of your trailer and they tell me that whoever set this all up is the work of a genius. Now if one of you sitting here would care to tell me who is responsible for this, I may find it in me to be extremely lenient when it comes time to press charges.”

Sammy Jo shot him a dirty look but remained silent as the two sitting before her began to converse in whispers. At first, it appeared that Arnold was getting angry until a few words from David seemed to calm him down. After a few more exchanges, David rose to his feet.

“We just wanted answers,” Arnold explained. “When I was a college student, I had a death wish for performing stunts. One day, something happened. I woke up with the disturbing realization that time had passed without my knowing of it. Over and over, I kept dreaming about a blue room and a man named Al who convinced me that I had to give up the stunts because ultimately it would kill me. Lord bless him, he was right.”

David looked back at his grandfather, who now appeared to be finished. “What about grandma? Why don’t you find out about her?”

“David is referring to my wife, Dawn. She attended college with me and had close to the same experience as I did, but for some reason, it affected her worse.”

“Worse? What do you mean worse?” Hawkins asked as Sammy Jo had a feeling she knew what the answer would be.

“Around roughly the same time, Dawn too had an experience with time advancing on her like I did, but that is pretty much where the similarities end, General. I recall being in a blue room, she recalls a hellish red room, where people tortured her and abused her. After her ordeal, we had discovered that both of us experienced a phenomenon that could not be explained. The fact that I was the only one that understood her led to us dating until eventually we were married. We were happy at first and then the nightmares began to appear to her. She would wake up screaming about some red-haired woman making her suffer. It has taken years of therapy for her to get over that and she still is not completely mentally healed from it. She came with us for this trip but she refuses to leave the trailer. Now I know that Dr. Beckett cannot be responsible for that, but what could have done that to my wife?”

“Careful, Miss Fuller,” cautioned Hawkins. “We are not ready to divulge that. These people have learned too much already.”

“Divulge what, General?” questioned Arnold. “My wife has gone through years of mental hell and I will be damned if I leave here without those answers.”

“Dammit, General,” Sammy Jo shouted. “These people deserve to know. They have been a part of this project without consent. Morally, what has been done over the years might be considered criminal in a court of law. We have abducted people from their daily lives, sent a stranger in their place to act as friends, family members, and even lovers.” She turned to Arnold and looked him in the eye as honestly as she could. “While this project strives to change history and make things better, another project was created with evil, malicious intent to undo what Dr. Beckett has done and make people’s lives miserable.”

“Oh, what are you gonna do, General? Arrest me? These people already know the truth. You can’t silence them now. Not even you are capable of killing those people outside just to keep this project under wraps. They are a part of this project whether you like it or not.”

Hawkins felt his anger begin to subside. “Stand ready for now, until I instruct you further.” To Sammy Jo, he ordered, “No further outbursts like that again, or you will be removed.” Looking forward, he realized that the two Watkins were watching him with apprehension, waiting to see what he would do next. “Back to our conversation. David, you claim you are responsible for breaking through this project’s security?”

David nodded. “At an early age, I learned I had a high aptitude for mathematics and computer programming. Almost got busted for hacking Pentagon files when I was sixteen. This place was easier to hack into than I thought.”

“The boy is gifted,” added Arnold, “but he has a habit of getting himself into trouble. If he had kept his record clean, he would have had a full scholarship to M.I.T. Still, he spent all his free time growing up putting all of his money into computer systems. He would always impress me with taking things apart and putting them back together, better than before and with improvements I would never have thought of.”

“All that computer technology responsible for bringing everyone here through our defenses, was by your design?”

David took a deep breath before answering, “I am also responsible partly for everyone being here.” Hawkins’ silence told him to continue, “You’ve probably been made aware of an e-mail that circulated around recently about people losing periods of time in their lives. I am the one responsible for sending out that message. My grandfather often talks about what he and grandma went through, and I wanted to find a way for them to get answers. If you want to arrest me, fine, but let my grandparents go.”

Hawkins sat there for a few seconds, mulling over an idea. “The two of you may return to your trailer, accompanied with my computer experts. They’ll want to see what you have in there.”

Deep inside the project, J.T. Beckett paced in his room. He and his father Tom had been placed under guard ever since General Hawkins had grilled them earlier that morning over what they knew about the leapees, the e-mail, and who was responsible for telling the chat room about the project.

“Too much on my mind. I’m responsible for the fate of those people outside. I need to prove I can do the right thing and take responsibility for my actions.”

J.T. stopped his pacing and stood resigned to his fate. “Turn myself in,” he admitted.

PART THREE

The athletic field was bustling with activity for the festival. Screams of excited people on the rides or playing games of chance mingled with the sounds of a live band playing on a stage at the rear of the field and a children’s merry-go-round at the other end. Lines were long at the food stands as well, and it seemed that the festival was an early success considering how packed the field had become.

Sam was having trouble threading his way through the crowd. In vain, he tried to look for Connors, who was somewhere among the crowd with his younger self. Eventually, he would have to find a place to change into his costume, but he felt it too early to do so. Walking around as Captain Liberty would bring too much distraction, and he would be mobbed and accomplish nothing. Pressing forward, he made his way towards the back of the field where the stage was located, hoping for a sign from Al.

Meanwhile, Connors, along with Vincent, Bruno, and young Beckett in tow, were finding their way to the back end of the field limited by pedestrians as well, even with the cotton candy cart. It was slow going, but no one was going to catch up with them in this crowd. The only person who found the trek easy was Al, as he kept tabs on young Beckett, walking through people without even thinking about it.

“Dr. Connors,” Morpheus chimed in, “I am getting a strong reading that Dr. Beckett is closing in on your position. I estimate that it will take at least five more minutes to get off the field behind the stage and cross the bridge that leads to the warehouse property. It will also take a few minutes to gain access to the building. Based on factors at my disposal, I estimate a 92.4% chance that once you get Dr. Beckett inside the warehouse, you will be able to complete your mission.”

“Sounds like you have more to tell me,” Connors stated, turning away from the others to avoid them eavesdropping, not knowing that a holographic observer was listening to his every word.

“Given what choices you had and the circumstances that developed, making your way through the festival to avoid detection by authorities was the best option. However, the possibility exists that the ‘current’ Dr. Beckett may yet catch up to you before you are able to leave the athletic field.”

“Sounds like I need a diversion,” the rogue leaper decided, as he and the others stopped near the side of the stage. The local rock band was just wrapping up a set and getting ready to take a break.

“What are you doing, Connors?” Al asked, not expecting an answer. “Dom,” he yelled, “center me back on our Sam, now!”

Sam managed to thread his way to the back of the crowd that was watching the local band when Al appeared next to him.

“Sam,” the observer shouted, waving his arms as people walked through him, “Connors is just ahead near the left side of the stage. You gotta hurry, he’s about to do something. Ziggy says you have to get in costume. Quick, duck between those two game booths over there and change. I’m gonna check on Connors.” Once again, Al vanished.

Believing no one was watching closely, Sam made his way behind a ring toss booth and a dart game booth. Moving fast, he reached into his bag and pulled the costume out. Looking around, he began to remove his shirt when he heard a child’s voice behind him. “Hey, mister, what are you doing?”

“Um, actually, little boy, I’m part of the entertainment.” Sam looked around for another place to change. One booth down, he saw a blue colored port-a-potty. It wasn’t a phone booth, but it would have to do. Sighing, he held his nose and entered. A few minutes later, Sam emerged in the guise of Captain Liberty.

Sam walked over and knelt down to the boy’s eye level. “Go find your parents. It might not be safe here in a few minutes.”

As the little boy nodded and ran off, a commotion could be heard near the stage area. People were screaming in alarm. Whatever Connors had planned, it was about to happen.

A loud squeal came over the sound system speakers as a microphone was turned on. “Attention, festival guests, attention.”

Al appeared again, dread on his face. “Sam, Connors had those Italian goons grab a young girl and they have her up on the stage. Hurry!”

Sam raced out from behind the booths into the crowd. Cries of surprise came from some of the people as they recognized that their hero had arrived to save the day. As he arrived to the back of the crowd at the stage, Sam could see that Bruno and Vincent were on the stage with the girl, her arms tied behind her with an amplifier cord. Hovering like a guardian angel next to the terrified girl was Al. Connors was nowhere to be seen as Sam noticed police officers had arrived and began moving people back.

Meanwhile, the voice of Connors continued, “It seems there is a little girl who has become separated from her daddy. I would think they would very much like to be reunited. In the crowd with us today, we have a treat. A hero walks amongst us. Surely, he would be able to reunite father and daughter. All the hero needs to do is come up on stage and rescue the little girl. I might add that if anyone tries to leave the grounds around the stage area, harm will come to the little girl.”

As Sam made his way to the front of the crowd, officers recognized him and allowed room for him to join them. Standing with the group was a very distraught Sheriff McPhearson. “They have my Lorraine,” he choked on the words, trying to suppress his fear.

“Looks like they want to deal with you, Cap,” one of the officers stated, “and it looks like they mean business.”

Another officer emerged from behind the stage area and hurried over. “We have men surrounding the stage front and back, but until we get the girl away from them, we can’t do a thing without risking injury to her. They’ve made it very clear no one but Cap is to go up on stage. Also, I don’t know who is doing the talking. It might be someone away from the stage with a cordless microphone, we can’t tell.”

McPhearson turned to Sam. “Please, do something. You’re the only one who can get my daughter back.”

The leaper turned back towards the stage. By now, only a low murmur came from the concerned crowd hovering back to watch what would unfold.

“Sam,” Al yelled from the stage, “this is a distraction. Connors has these guys keeping you here so he can take your other self to the warehouse. You’re gonna have to fight these guys to get to Connors or else the girl up here is gonna die. Ziggy says if you go straight to the warehouse instead, some young nervous cop with an itchy trigger finger is gonna accidentally shoot her when they try to take control of the stage.”

Looking back, Sam noticed that Dr. Garner and Wellington had finally worked their way to the front of the onlookers. Knowing what he had to do, Sam grimly made his way to the steps leading up to the stage. All at once, a cheer arose from the crowd, urging on their hero. Vincent and Bruno stood in the center of the stage, waiting.

“I can’t believe we agreed to this,” Bruno whispered over. “The boss ordering us to give ourselves up to buy him some time.”

“I’m not worried,” Vincent replied back, “I’m sure the boss will bail us out like he normally does.”

Sam bounded up the stairs and faced his two opponents. “Release the girl,” he ordered gruffly.

“Sorry, but that ain’t an option yet.” Bruno picked up a microphone stand, tossed the microphone aside, and advanced on Sam. Swirling it around, Bruno lashed out with it, taking a few nasty swings at the leaper. Vincent stayed back hovering near the scared little girl by the sound equipment just next to the drum kit, to make sure no one else approached the stage.

The first swing Sam managed to duck, but the second one found him in the side, right where his stitches were. An agonized cry came from him, as he knew his stitches had ripped. The crowd gasped and even Al had to, as Sam staggered across the stage trying to regain his balance.

Sam walked to center stage and faced his attacker, assuming a defensive pose, fists raised in the air. Once he felt he was close enough, he launched into a flurry of punches, none of them seeming to do any damage as Bruno managed to block most of them and showed no sign of pain on the ones that landed, including one to the j