PROLOGUE

Contrasts.

As the haze of Leaping dissipated, Sam was aware of a number of contrasting feelings. His eyes were closed, and some instinct told him not to be in any hurry to change that just yet.

He was lying down on his side, and relaxed - his host had been asleep. Yet he instantly felt tense, more than the unfamiliarity of a leap-in warranted. He could feel warmth and softness to either side of him, furry covers, yet a chill touched his naked flesh. A growl from his bedfellow when he moved to pull the wrappings over him warned him she (he hoped it was a she!) was in no mood to share. The ‘bed’ itself, beneath his body, was hard - not firm, but hard - and rough like concrete.

Sam drew in a deep breath; the air was cold to his lungs and made him gasp.  He also smelt his companion’s breath, and ‘she’ definitely needed the benefit of some toothpaste!

He gingerly opened one eye, just a slit at first, then wide with incredulity. Suddenly, he was wide-awake and sitting up, but not daring to move any further. He was outdoors, though within an enclosure of wire fencing, and his bedmate and the covers were one in the same – he found himself stark buck-naked sandwiched between two adult gray wolves!

Wondering what he had got himself into now, the time-traveler uttered his time-honored phrase:  “Oh boy!”

PART ONE

Sam struggled to control his breathing. The wolves still slumbered and he had no desire to alter that state of affairs. He wanted to bolt, to get away before they decided he would make a tasty breakfast, but he was paralyzed with fear, and trying hard not to let the scent of his terror reach their nostrils.

“A-A-Al!” he let out a stage whisper, those two letters forming a cry for help, a need for a friendly face, a whole host of questions and so much more.

Though he had little expectation of an immediate response, his holographic observer did in fact materialize a foot or so in front of him, making him jump, which in turn caused his canine cousins to stir.

“G-get… me…out…of here.” Sam ordered through gritted teeth.

Al took stock of his situation and blanched.  He took a couple of cautious steps backwards, and looked from Sam’s bare flesh to the furry animals flanking him on either side.

“Oooooooh Sam, I don’t like this!” he commented, as if Sam were enjoying the situation!

“I’ve seen the movie, Sam, and I know there’s only one reason to wake up naked in a wolf pen – you’re a – a David Kessler, Sam. You’ve leaped into a werewolf!”

The ridiculousness of the statement almost made Sam laugh out loud, were he not still trying to keep his companions unconscious. Keeping his eyes firmly upon them, the physicist rose cautiously to his feet.

“There… are… no… such… things… as… werewolves… A,l” still through gritted teeth, and sotto voice as he backed ever so slowly away, his hands instinctively clasping together in front of him, in modesty and to protect his assets.

Al looked around nervously; Sam could almost swear he was checking to see if he had any silver on his person. Sam watched the movies too, and knew that legends told how werewolves had to be shot by a silver bullet, and by somebody who cared for them. Dr Beckett was suddenly grateful that the hologram would not be able to fulfill that function, since Al’s superstitious nature could easily make him trigger-happy.

"Down Sam! Down!" Al alerted his friend, his hands articulated with the same urgency as his tone. "Use all fours—ya don't want everyone seeing a critter walking around on hind legs, do ya? You'll attract attention."

Sam immediately crouched and placed his hands on the ground between his legs. He sighed; relieved at sustaining some semblance of dignity, though he did still feel – somewhat exposed.  "What does Ziggy say I'm here to do, this time?" Sam asked stupendously.

Al chomped at his lower lip and Sam immediately knew that Ziggy hadn't come up with anything – again.  Al shook his head. "Nada, my furry pal," he snickered. "Ziggy's keeping very tight lipped on this one. She's sayin' somethin' about takin' timeout." His cheek twitched as he spoke the last few words.

Sam glowered at his exuberant friend and changed the subject, "Sometimes I wonder about her Al, she's getting to be excessively unreceptive and all too often of late.”

"Whatcha mean Sam, 'getting'? Ain't she always been that way?"

Sam winced, looking away and down at his two recumbent companions. He then noticed that one of them was indeed female, very female, and very pregnant.

"Don't say that I'm here to play midwife?" Sam asked, ungraciously, feeling totally aghast he glanced at his friend, who just stood, shrugged his shoulders, and grinned. "No! No! Not again!" the physicist spouted shaking his head and slouching his shoulders as he vaguely recalled a previous Leap but not remembering the exact details.

"Whatcha mean, again?" Al asked, mystified and then several recollections started to stir within his gray cells. "Animal? Or, ahem, giving birth? You've been one and, whoo boy, almost done the other." He satirized again.

"Al!" Sam frowned.

"Don't look at me like that—stop it!" Al mitigated, superciliously. "I can't help it if ya brain expunges itself every few days or so."

"Can't you pull anything up, the date for instance? What year is it? It would really be nice to know what decade I'm in," Sam asked caustically as he shifted his position slightly to look about him.

The Observer fished out the handlink from his inside breast pocket. "I'm tellin' ya, Ziggy's not her usual self, the mood she's in, she may not even speak—to either of us." he warned his friend before summoning the holographic image.

As the hybrid computer's persona pixilated into focus, she yawned sleepily. "Ahhh, yes, Admiral? You knew I was taking some downtime to recoup my internal resources. What is it that requires you to call upon me and is so urgent that you couldn't wait until after my nap?" she mouthed and blinked her eyes fitfully as if she was blinking out the light.

Al's eyebrows rose in superficiality as his eyes closed. "Told ya!" the Observer verified. "She's gettin' progressively more irritating since Stephen started taking more of an interest in her."

"Just the usual boring stuff… where I am, when I'm at… nothing all that exciting," Sam said politely but with a hint of sarcasm. "…And why am I wearing a fur coat?"

The Observer snickered, "If that's a fur coat, then I'm as naked as a jaybird."

"You are a jaybird, Al!" Sam commented, "either that or a peacock!"

"Quiet… children," Ziggy said with a frown. "You're giving my headache, a headache."

"Now she's got a headache. I don't believe this, Sam!" the Admiral construed warily as he strutted back and forth in his iridescent, peacock blue suit, flaunting the divergent pink of his shirt in an amazing display of colors.

“I’m getting one of my own looking at you, Al,” retorted Sam, “Not to mention freezing my tail off out here. I want some answers and I want them now!” He was still speaking in constrained tones, anxious that his ‘pen’ pals continue to slumber as long as possible.

Casting around him to see if he could ascertain anything helpful for himself, he noted that the enclosure was generously sized, and of varied terrain, a pleasant enough habitat for those of lupine ancestry.

The lush verdant foliage here and in neighboring enclosures, groaning with blossom suggested that it was late Spring or early Summer, probably the former since there was scant warmth to be felt from the sun that was rising as reluctantly as a student on the first day of school, resentfully painting candy floss pink touches to the clouds in the early morning sky.

Sam glared at the still unforthcoming Ziggy. She tossed her holographic hair haughtily.

“Very well, since it is obvious that I shall not enjoy a moment’s peace until I have imparted these banalities…”

Ziggy clearly believed that it was beneath her dignity to have to act as calendar, almanac, and address book.

“It is early morning, it is early April, it is 1997 and you are in the Mexican Wolf enclosure at the Smithsonian National Zoological Park in northwest Washington D.C.”

Sam shuddered, hunching down further to reduce the surface area through which to lose body heat. His companions did not seem troubled by the cold, and slept on, twitching occasionally as if dreaming of hunting down their prey. Sam hoped fervently that they would not act out their dreams with his carcass as the prize.

“Your bedfellows are Luka, the Alpha male, and his mate Moonshadow, Alpha female of the pack. Your name is Marcus. I suggest that you proceed with extreme caution and ensure that Luka has no reason to think you are challenging him for leadership. There are currently no other members of the pack, until the pups are born in fifteen days time, since Luka fought and killed the previous alpha male, Serge, six months ago.”

Sam gulped, and looked over his shoulder nervously at the wolf napping behind him. He cautiously rose up a little, and loped forward, putting more distance between himself and the leader of the pack.

"And…" Sam said as he turned to look nervously at the sleeping wolves then back towards the two holograms. "…what am I here to put right?"

The Admiral, once again shrugged his shoulders. "Since Zig told Bena that you were a wolf, she hasn't dared to go anywhere near the Waiting Room. She's protesting that it isn't in her job description to interview wild animals." Al shifted his weight to the other foot before starting to pace again. "And since we won't be getting any info from the Leapee, and Ziggy's nonconformity, there's nothing coming through."  

Sam glared from the upright hologram, to the partially phased image as Ziggy haughtily tossed her head away from her creator. "Ziggy, why are you being so… obstreperous?" he asked with a grimace.

"Was it not bad enough the last time, when you Leapt into a primate?" Ziggy enthused calculatingly. "I fear this is an insult to my reputation, my integrity, and I refuse to be coerced now that you've Leapt into this humbled canine clan! It is humiliating."

Sam shook his head, not believing just what it was he was hearing.

"Ah! Listen to Miss Morals!" Al interjected. "If you weren't a hologram, I swear I'd… I'd…" Al bit furiously at his lower lip and screwed up his fist, ominously. "Well, I would if you weren't."

“Indeed? I do believe you are starting to sound like father, Admiral. My memory banks contain numerous entries where he expresses similar frustration at your non-corporeal nature.”

“She’s got you there, Al!” conceded Sam with a chuckle, watching Al getting virtually apoplectic as Ziggy gloated.

Al glowered at him, then chuckled back, “Now she’s got you!” he chortled, as Sam jumped forward with a shriek, startled by the nudge of a cold wet nose sniffing at his bare butt.

“Do not forget that I advised caution in dealing with the alpha pair, Dr. Beckett. It would be better if you allowed Moonshadow to conclude her examination.”

The female gray wolf was not pleased at the sound ‘Marcus’ had made. Nor was she happy about the way he smelt. It was not familiar. She had never known Marcus to smell like this before. She emitted a low growl, which attracted the attention of her mate.

Luka padded up sleepily to see what the fuss was about.

"There's nothing like being stalked," Al said, amused as Luka joined in with the sniffing process.

Sam crouched stock still not daring even to breathe; he even tried to suppress his trembling hands as they took most of his weight on the ground. That was until Luka decided to take a special interest in Sam.
Standing on his hind legs, Luka placed his forelegs on Sam's back and Al, although amused, grimaced when Moonshadow let out a low howl of discontent.

Sam let out a growl of his own to warn the amorous animal off and immediately shot up to a standing position and edged away warily, shrugging off the unwanted advances of his admirer.

“I don’t think he understands dog, Sam!” put in Al as Luka tried again to mount the time traveler. "No way!" Sam said as softly as his tremulous voice would allow. "No way am I gonna be humiliated like this!"

"Humiliated?" Al said pretentiously, biting at his lower lip to curb a snicker. "I think he likes you Sam, what's humiliating about that?"

“You telling me that you’d be flattered by the attention? I don’t think so, Al.”

Both wolves turned now to face Sam, and paced backward and forward restlessly, growling in disgruntlement. As they advanced, so Sam retreated, once more down on all fours, and sidling away awkwardly as he kept his eyes on his adversaries. They looked as if they could pounce at any moment, and he wanted to be sure they didn’t gain the advantage. Though the fact that they were herding him didn’t bode well. Sam glanced round nervously to make sure he was not about to be cornered. Luckily the enclosure was vast and fairly open, he had plenty of room to move.

The rough terrain grated at his hands and feet, but he hardly noticed. He was too busy trying to still his pounding heart.

The Alpha male was panting, his tongue lolling, his eyes bright. Sam found it very disconcerting.

“Easy now, big fella,” he exhorted Luka, in what he hoped was a conciliatory tone. “Nothing personal, you’re just not my type!”

Al spluttered, unable to contain his amusement.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself, Al” Sam shot snidely at his holographic partner, as he circled around in a three-way tango with his two hirsute partners.

He tried hard to maintain eye contact with at least one of them at all times, not backing down, yet not threatening. All the while he was attempting to convince them by his body language that he would not stand for being bullied, but that they had nothing to fear from him.

At first, there was much snarling and baring of teeth from the alpha pair, until Sam felt so intimidated he realized he had to do something before they decided to rip him to shreds and play toss with his bones.

He began snarling back, trying to mimic the exact cadence of their vocalizations, harmonizing, echoing their intonations, announcing himself as their equal.

Gradually, the sounds became less hostile, more inquisitive, and then almost playful. Sam let his own language match theirs at every stage, and did not resist when they approached him closer. He moved toward them, making the group tight knit, and establishing himself as an integral part of it. He was careful not to flinch when they began sniffing again, at his head and neck, even at his hindquarters. Just so long as Luka didn’t get amorous again, Sam would put up with the intrusion. He sniffed himself, though from a discreet distance, and nowhere delicate.

Finally, having declared a draw, the wolves lost interest in him, and began padding around in search of breakfast.

Sam realized he was hungry too; his stomach began growling almost as loudly as Luka had been a few minutes before.

He began following the pair across the expanse. They seemed to know where they were going, and he trailed along, eager to discover what was on the menu, yet at the same time worried it would be as unappetizing and unpalatable as the fare he’d been forced to consume as a simian.

The wolves made their way across rocky outcroppings and grassy knolls until they came to a gated area, dividing the inner enclosure, which was obviously their sleeping area, from the vast plains of their outer enclosure where they roamed during the day.

The gate was open, and as they rounded a hillock they found what they sought.

A huge metallic silver bowl had been laid down, brim full of water, and a matching one sat alongside, heaped to bursting with what Al informed Sam was a special mix based on dry dog food. It looked and smelled very unappealing, and Sam’s stomach growled again in protest as a far more enticing aroma reached his nostrils. Looking up, he ‘followed his nose’ ‘til he located the source of the delicious scent.

Opposite the wolf enclosure was the Ape House, but a little further away to his left, and obviously currently upwind of their present location, there was a restaurant, which must serve staff as well as visitors since it seemed to be open already. The unmistakable odor of eggs and bacon and sausages frying wafted tantalizingly to his olfactory receptors. Much to his embarrassment, Sam found himself salivating profusely.

“What’s the matter, Sam, you hungry?” teased Al, enjoying his friends discomfort in the knowledge that it was not life threatening, at least not in the short term.

Sam glared at his friend, not at all amused by the situation.

He sat some distance from the wolves, who were now greedily devouring their repast, and tried hard to ignore the rumbling and churning of his empty stomach. He couldn’t remember when he’d last eaten, or what, but it felt like a very long time ago.

Al bounced on the balls of his feet, and patted his own stomach.

“Personally, I had a great breakfast,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye as he watched Sam squirm. “Toast, gallons of coffee, and Beth’s special Italian breakfast coffee cake. Real comfort food: sweet and simple. I guess it’s a hang over from the days when I went boozing every night, settles the stomach a treat.”  Al smacked his lips appreciatively in recollection.

"You just had to go and say it, didn't ya? If it ain't women on ya mind—then it's food!" the Leaper relayed as the growling ache in his stomach worsened. Never in his life could he ever remember being more hungry.

He glanced despairingly at the bowl of food. 'It's either that or nothing,' he thought, sniffing in the still lingering and mouth-watering aroma from the restaurant.

Al watched on, a sprightly gleam filling the whole of his face, harmonized with the piqué of his enthused body language. "That's a good one Sam, I like it. Though, it is the first time I've been told that my mind has more than a single track."

"Maybe," Sam deduced. "But your perspective is definitely limited to piecemeal."

"Talking of meal…s ah, ahem, food… you're not really gonna eat that, are ya, Sam?" the Observer queried with disdained interest.

Sam shook his head. "Do I have a choice?" he solicited with more than a hint of annoyance in his tone as he turned to his so-called friend. "It's not as if I can just stroll outta here and to that—that restaurant up there, now can I?"

"Suppose not," Al surmised ruefully as his gaze followed his friend's.

Over the brow of the incline and out of the enclosure, the activity of the zoo's personnel was becoming more intense.

The Observer glanced down at his wrist, he didn't know why. Looking at his own watch didn't help Sam any, nor did it tell him the time for where his friend was at. But it did distract his attention from the naked physicist who, from the beginning of his current Leap, had been forced to stoop on all fours and was now desperate and desolate enough to feed with the inmates.

Though by now ravenous and feeling faint for want of food, yet Sam still held back while the wolves devoured their fill. He was not about to ruffle Luka’s fur by stealing the Alpha male’s ration. He tried not to watch as the pair salivated into the bowl, their jaws slathering over their spread. The idea of chowing down on their leftovers was almost enough to convince him that he should abstain, but the growling in his gut told him he would be unable to function efficiently for much longer without sustenance.

The doggie diners lingered over their meal, until Sam felt he could stand it no longer. He wasn’t sure if he hoped they’d empty the bowl, thus preventing him from having to consume the revolting repast, or prayed that they’d leave him something to stave off his starvation.

Al’s joviality was gradually replaced by empathy as he watched Sam’s growing discomfort.

Finally, Luka and Moonshadow decided they had had enough, and with barely a glance in Sam’s direction, they padded off, fur dripping with excess water from their drinking bowl.

Slowly, reluctantly, Sam crept over to the bowls, and looked to see what remained. Not a lot in the food bowl, though the water was still almost half full.

For a moment, Sam wondered if a drink would suffice. The food looked even more unappetizing up close than it had from a distance, and the smell…  He wrinkled his nose in distaste, and looked plaintively at Al.

“Sorry, pal, room service is not available at this time,” Al shrugged, trying to make light of Sam’s predicament.

“I’ll leave you to eat in peace, Sam.” He told his past-dwelling partner, who still hesitated, despite the now deafening roar of his rolling stomach.

Sam merely nodded in acknowledgement, as his friend disappeared.

Unable to bring himself to the degradation of nuzzling into the bowl, Sam looked around to make sure nobody was watching him, and then dipped a hand into the dry brown mixture. Pulling out a couple of small biscuits, he nibbled them, his face creased in disgust that they tasted even worse than they looked. Forcing himself to finish them first, he then drank greedily from the bowl of water, trying to wash the awful tang from his taste buds.

His hunger was far from sated, and grimacing, he repeated the same routine several more times; chew a couple of the foul dry morsels, try not to heave, wash them down with water.  After a while, though still hungry, Sam could force himself to eat no more, and instead greedily consumed the remainder of the water, hoping it would bloat him enough to stop the gnawing pains for a while.

That done, he slunk back into as secluded an area as he could find, and curled up on the grass, feeling decidedly queasy, and thoroughly miserable.

With every passing minute, the ache in his belly worsened. He glanced around in desperation for anything to quell the queasiness that had begun its palpable rise, tainting his throat with the inevitable release that he knew would soon follow.

He couldn't quite remember what he was looking for, the Swiss-cheesing was making him blank-out on that score but in the back of his mind, he knew it to be an herb of some description or other.

Yellow colored his vision along with long spiny leaves but his brain wouldn't emit the word he sought. His blurring eyes darted about and from within the darkness of the secluded enclosure, the brightness of the intensifying daylight stung at his eyes, making him squint even more and brought forth new sensations of pain.

"Dandelions!" he suddenly spouted as the iridescent hue of a golden cluster caught his gaze. Hauling himself up onto an elbow he blinked a few times to clear his vision. The mass of yellow blooms seemed to be miles away and so far out of reach.

Holding his stomach and his breath, he finally persuaded his now wobbly legs to cooperate. Once on his knees, he started to crawl out of the feeding enclosure, listlessly at first towards his goal.

Again, as he found himself out in the open, he saw Luka dashing this way and that, encircling Moonshadow and then racing off into the distance to where Sam was striving to reach. Like a juvenile, Luka jumped, skipped and hurtled, kicking up the newly mown grass that plumed in his wake.

The Leaper stopped dead when he saw Luka turn in his tracks and start to bound his way towards where Sam was now sited. Sam feared, as the animal neared, that he would be bowled over by the speed of the impending incursion and when only feet away he lunged forward, flattening himself as close to the ground as was humanly possible.

His hands clasped tightly behind his head for protection, Sam petulantly peeped out from under his arm as Luka hurdled over the sprawled Leaper. Then, he hiccupped with relief, but regurgitating the foul taste and renewing the rising pit in his stomach. He watched and waited until Luka was a fair distance away and only then did he decide that it was safe for him to rise onto all fours.

The early sun felt warm against his back but the ground beneath his hands and knees still felt cold and damp, the earthy musky smell of the soil only served to exacerbate his queasiness and he soon forgot the frolicking Luka in his eagerness to reach the favored spot of ground.

To Sam, it seemed like an age before; at long last, he arrived at the clump of radiant blooms. Panting hard and sweating as if in an overheated sauna, he reached out and grasped a handful of the supple stems. His stomach lurched at the mere thought of eating them, even though he knew their medicinal properties would make him feel better in the long run. Something from within his Swiss-cheesed memory was telling him that he needed to make a mixture from the plant and eagerly, he looked back to the enclosure. Now, he regretted having drained the water bowl of its contents, it would have served perfectly.

He fought back the escalating nausea as he selected only the most succulent part of the pungent herb and placed a modest but well-chosen morsel into his mouth.

The plant's tartness choked him immediately as the overpowering white fluid imparted its bitterness upon his tongue.

The corners of his mouth turned downward and his eyes screwed up in disgust, so that he did not see the telltale white light of the doorway that re-admitted Al to his side.

"I've seen it all now Sam," the Observer infused toward the green-faced Leaper. "What on earth are you eating now?"

"Food…" Sam gagged. "Worse than I thought. Medicine." Sam held out a handful of the chosen stems, the sticky white secretions overtly coating his hand.

"Looks to me like the cure is worse than the…"

"Don't start Al, I'm in no condition to take your garbage." Sam gulped hard at his words but not daring to swallow the mushy mass in his mouth.

"You might've been better off if you'd eaten the garbage instead of that…"

"Will you stop it? Can't you see I've enough on my plate without you interrupting?"

"Plate! Ha—ha, that's a good one Sam."

Sam huffed his shoulders and deliberately turned his back on his Observer, as he forced himself to swallow the acrid pulp he had mashed up in his unwilling mouth.

“Do you have something useful for me? Or do you just delight in mocking the afflicted,” he spat venomously, wishing he could likewise spit out his tart dessert.

Al looked offended, and gave Sam a “who me?” gesture.  Nevertheless, what he had to impart was probably not what the Leaper would classify as useful.

“Still nada on your mission, I’m afraid buddy,” confessed the Observer, “but Dom’s been looking at the zoo’s routine, and I thought I oughta tell ya, chances are there’ll be a school trip doing the rounds at about ten-ish. You may wanna lay low when a group of 30 squealing kids comes to study the local fauna.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he gulped in dismay. A bad move, as a clump of dandelion pulp lodged in his throat, choking him.  He leaned forward, gagging, spluttering and fighting to dislodge the obstruction, the queasy greenish hue of his skin now mottled with bright purplish red.

He instinctively gestured over his shoulder, begging Al to give him a hearty clap on the back to expel the offending item.

Al equally instinctively moved to comply, then realized the futility of the gesture, and withdrew his hand inches from Sam’s body.

Realizing he was on his own in this predicament, Sam clenched his fist and dealt a sharp upward blow to his solar plexus, as hard as he could force upon himself, causing a violent jerking reaction which enabled him to eject the projectile hard and fast onto the ground before him.

Collapsing in its wake, he lay coughing and wheezing, and rubbing at the tender bruise that was darkening on his torso.

Al looked on helplessly as the spasms proved too much for Sam’s ravaged intestines, and he regurgitated his revolting repast.

“Can this leap get any worse?” he enquired pathetically several minutes later, wiping his mouth.

Sam crawled shakily away from the putrid stench-pile he’d created, and looked miserably at his holographic partner.

“There’s sure room for it to get a whole lot better, pal!” Al confirmed, sympathetically.

“No kidding” Sam wheezed expectantly, looking up at his friend towering above him. “This Leap is…” Sam struggled to find words to describe how he felt about this awful leap.

Al tried to lighten the mood by supplying them, “This Leap is going to the dogs, Sam.” He glanced over to the horizon, knowing that Sam’s groan was not just a leftover from an upset stomach.

"And Ziggy, ahhh," Sam strained as he twisted himself to a sitting position. "What the hell is she doing now? Are you sure she hasn't got anything on this place? Wherever this place is."

"What is it with you Sam? You don't normally get Swiss-cheesed within a leap."

"Al! I do remember where I am!" Sam exacted. "But parading around in my birthday suit, ain't exactly something I'd like to commit to memory!"

"Erm… Sam…" Al stuttered. "Best thing for me to do, is see if I can jolt something, anything out've that useless bucket of bolts."

"Don't be too long, Al. I don't wanna be alone when the hoards of school kids start their procession through the grounds."

Sam's eyes pleaded but in his voice the Admiral heard a tinge of fear. He'd heard it before, many times during his years of service in the Navy.

"I'll be back afore you know it," Al assured his friend as the dazzling glare of the Imaging Chamber door opened up.

Sam glanced worriedly towards the restaurant; the piquant aroma filling the air growing evermore potent by the minute. Before he could turn back, the Imaging Chamber had closed, leaving only an echo to remind Sam that his friend had been there.

PART TWO

Stephen could barely contain his excitement. Despite Ziggy's warning that no one go anywhere near the Waiting Room his curiosity was roused. Ziggy had closed the shutters that were both inside and outside of the observation deck. But he'd found the tiniest of gaps between one of the shutters and the edge of the framework.

At first when he peeked through, he couldn't see anything but the blurry vista of the empty bench. As he watched and waited, he hoped to catch a glimpse of the wild animal that Ziggy had pertained to be there. He had never before seen a wolf and to while away the time, he summoned Dante to help him keep vigil.

The squeal that left Stephen's lips went unchecked when he caught sight of the whiteness of the Fermi suit. But the opening he'd found was so small that whatever he saw was certainly fuzzy around the edges.

"What is it, Stephen?" Dante asked and when Stephen didn't answer, he added, "Tell me, what did you see?"

“I’m not sure,” Stephen was more or less thinking aloud, squinting at the tiny gap again, hoping for a clearer view. He ducked his head from one side to the other, turning his head this way and that. He put his hand to his forehead to reduce the glare.

“Well?” Dante persisted.

“Well, Dante, it looks to me like this wolf is walking on his hind legs! Can they do that?”

“Master Stephen!” Ziggy’s voice was loud and disapproving.

Stephen jumped backwards, almost falling over but just managing to keep his footing, looking as guilty as he should.

“Ziggy, don’t do that! You startled me!” he complained.

“Well if you hadn’t been sneaking around where you have no business…” Ziggy chided him. “Surely you heard my orders regarding the leapee?”

“I only wanted a peek. It’s not like I was going to let it out!” remonstrated Stephen petulantly.

“How much exactly have you seen, Master Stephen?” Ziggy interrogated.

“Not much,” the boy pouted, “There’s not enough of a gap to make it out. All I could see was a big shaggy haired head and hairy paws, but it seemed to be up on its back legs, like it was begging or something.” Stephen sniggered, “He looked really funny, wearing Dad’s Fermi suit, like a Pantomime wolf. He seemed to be growling too, only I couldn’t hear cos you turned the audio monitors off.”

Stephen huffed his shoulders sulkily, and crossed his arms, annoyed at being thwarted in his investigation.

Ziggy mellowed a little. After all, if it hadn’t been for the boy genius’ latest upgrade.  “Master Stephen? Can you keep a secret…?”

MEANWHILE

Alice Penfold was more than a little frustrated as she strode across parking lot 'B' and towards the nearest entrance of the Smithsonian National Zoological Park. She had been looking forward to following up on recent leads but instead when she had arrived at work that morning, someone else had other plans.

Her assignment for the duration was to cover the birth of Tipo's babies; a Sloth bear recently rescued from one of South Asia's forests where after undergoing intense therapeutic and psychosomatic therapy at the Park to heal a gunshot wound, it was found that she was pregnant.

After leaving her apartment that morning, one hindrance after another fell in her path. Following a flat, which had made her late and very grubby, she had taken the southern entrance into the zoo, and having been before; she knew it to be the nearest way into the bear enclosure. Upon reaching the Rock Creek Parkway entrance, she'd found it closed for redevelopment and angrily she hit the steering wheel with the heel of her hand. After a moment of seething, she turned her car around and headed for the northern parking lots.

Then at the main entrance, the attendant had looked solemnly at her and then on her jacket lapel where he noticed the 'press' badge. "Are you here to cover the birth of Tipo's babies?" he'd asked animatedly.

'Damn!' Alice grimaced with agitation; she'd meant to take her badge off before reaching the zoo, she despised being pestered by the doting 'public' on such occasions. Also, she wanted to get there early to avoid the school rush, which she had been warned started at 10 AM but the puncture put paid to that notion.

She smiled sweetly at him through the side window, though inside she was feeling agitated and all knotted up.  "Shhhhush, don't broadcast it, will ya?" she couldn't help but snap somewhat sharply, her nerves were fraying rapidly. "You know what the kids are like when there's a newborn abound, especially a newborn animal. I'll never have a minute's peace."

The attendant looked hurt. "Isn't the zoo all about children and babies? …a-n-d if we can encourage the rarer species to procreate, so much the better."

Through the wound down window, he handed her a small pamphlet and as she unfolded it, a double paged map of the grounds opened up before her.

Disgruntled she winced, "I suppose!" She disguised her vehemently said words with a sudden inhalation before pressing her foot on the gas.

Out of the blue and back in the present, she suddenly hung onto a thought that the attendant hadn't alerted her to the closure of the southern entrances.

"He could've at least warned me! or… they could've had the decency to put up notices!" she scathed.

Again, she slammed her hand hard into the steering wheel, making it judder and feeling the vibrations right down to the floor. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she espied the brilliance of the fluorescently colored posters attached predominantly to every available vertical surface and she bit her tongue.

After parking her car to the nearest point indicated by the map, she gathered up what she needed. The leather encased camera which she slung over her right shoulder, along with the purse that carried all of her necessary essentials – lipstick, mirror, tissues, hair brush, and so on, plus the tools of her trade, notebook, mini cassette recorder etc. In fact, everything a girl needed for an unwelcome excursion to a zoological theme park.

To her dismay, the moment she stepped foot on the track way, she found that there were already quite a few people there. The majority were women, with pre-school aged children hanging from their skirts or being pushed around in one of those buggy-type contraptions. 'Pre-school, the worst kind,' she thought, 'full of questions and are never satisfied with just any old answers.'

Grudgingly, she headed off in the direction of the small mammal house, every stride revealing her determination to get this event over and done with and as soon as possible. Turning right at the junction from the mammal house, she followed the pathway as it started to double back. She grumbled ruthlessly to herself as the path was taking her away from where she needed to be.

The weight of her camera tugged on her shoulder and as she hitched it over to the other side, she searched the surrounding area to see if there was a more direct route. Seeing none, she took a second glance at the map, all paths eventually led to where they intended, but they all took on an indistinct route, meandering hither and thither towards their final destination.

At the next junction, Ms. Penfold passed by the golden lions then the otters, barely giving either a second glance and continuing along the winding footpath towards the bald eagles on her right and the Mexican wolves to her left.

The Zoo was starting to fill up with visitors anxious to beat the 10am school parties. Sam stirred his sorry butt and tried to crawl back into the seclusion of the enclosure, which now seemed even further away than it had when he’d ventured out in search of the dandelions. His hands, knees and feet were fast turning green from the fresh cut sappy grass, and his back ached from his constant need to impersonate a quadruped. He looked all around him, trying to ascertain if there was any closer cover. The morning sun dazzled him as he looked about, making it difficult to judge distances. He wished Al were still there to give him the facts and figures, but he was alone. Or rather he wasn’t alone and wished he were – for the burgeoning crowds were starting to head in his direction.

Making a snap decision, Sam headed off toward some woodland, his choice influenced not a little by the fact that while he deliberated, Luka and Moonshadow had positioned themselves between him and the enclosure. Sam was in no hurry to get re-acquainted with their cold noses and slathering tongues, much less their mat