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

The inner peace that Sam could sense in the blue void while waiting for his next assignment carried over with him as he felt the electrical tingle of leaping in begin to dissipate. His eyes were closed, and his breathing, if it even seemed like breathing, was slow, deep, and steady as he felt serenity all about him. All of his muscles were relaxed as he realized he was lying comfortably on a flat surface.

Despite the heightened awareness of calm, the leaper decided that it was time to face his new reality and take in the new surroundings. Opening his eyes, he found darkness waiting for him. From what he could tell as his vision adjusted, the small room he was in seemed to be full of monitoring equipment and computers. The blinking red light of a video camera on a tripod told him that he was being recorded for some purpose. Across the room was a large mirror on the wall with a closed door next to it.

Sam’s eyes traveled back to the monitoring equipment located on either side of the platform he was lying on. As a doctor, he was able to figure out that they were cardiograph and electroencephalograph machines used to monitor heart conditions and electrical brainwave patterns. Wires from the machines were connected to his head, bare chest, and arms through electrodes and small shiny, silver discs. What puzzled Sam was that he had no feeling of anything being attached to him at all. Even more confusing was why he was unattended. There was no one in the room with him; he was totally alone in the dark, hooked up to machines that were making faint whirring noises as they recorded data.

With a start, Sam rose upright on the platform. His ears were not picking up any signs of breathing; it was only the sounds of the machines making the faint noises. On top of that, he could physically tell he wasn’t breathing. There was no air intake or exhalation from his lungs. Sam sat there and watched his chest and discovered there was no movement there, as if he had forgotten how to breathe but he wasn’t suffocating. Then came another shock, the wires that appeared to be attached to him were no longer on him at all. They were going right through him, still attached to something on the bed behind his back.

In panic, Sam moved off the platform and stared at horror at what he could perceive in the dark room. Where he had been lying was a medical examination table with a prone body still situated on it with wires attached to the head, chest, and arms. At first, Sam thought the body was dead but then noticed it was breathing oxygen. Moving closer, the leaper leaned over to get a better look at the body’s face in the dark room and recoiled in shock.

“Ohhh boy…” was all Sam could think of, not realizing that he now hovered a few inches off the floor.

PART ONE

It felt weird for a worn-out Admiral Al Calavicci to physically (not as a hologram) find himself being driven around the streets of Hope Springs. In some respects, it didn’t feel right for him to be here. The events of the last twenty-four hours were still filtering through his groggy brain. His nerves were still on red alert after watching Sam slit his own throat with a razorblade; dying in that hospital room, and then the Imaging Chamber visual dissolved, separating him from his best friend. Somehow, Al had found a way to pull himself together before he strode down the exit ramp to the Control Room. Hiding the loss he was feeling, he had inquired to Ziggy about his best friend.

Al quickly moved to the mainframe and blinked as he listened to Ziggy’s report.

“I’m sorry, Admiral, I can’t ascertain the time period the person is from. There is someone in the Waiting Room, but they are in a comatose state. Based on what I know, I cannot figure out anything regarding his newest leap. Dr. Beckett is in the past, but I cannot find him.”

Relief flooded through the Admiral. Even if Sam was lost somewhere, he was still alive. The odds suddenly seemed to go the Observer’s way.

Before Al could comment, Dominic had entered the room. “Admiral, General Hawkins called for you just a few minutes ago. He wanted to remind you that the testing of Project Liberty is scheduled for tomorrow, and he wants to know if you’ll be coming.”

The Admiral cursed under his breath. “It’s tomorrow? Damn, I forgot all about it with all the crazy leaps lately. I really wanted to see what this Liberty is all about so that we know if that project threatens ours. Dom, tell him I can’t go, not with what just happened with Sam.”

Dom nodded and turned to go when Ziggy interjected, “You should go, Admiral.”

“Admiral, although we have a comatose person in the Waiting Room right now, I can assure you with 99.6% certainty that Dr. Beckett will not leap in for at least twenty-four hours.”

“One that was put into my programming once by former head technician Gooshie,” Ziggy answered with just a twinge of sadness in her voice. “It’s telling me that Dr. Beckett is one day from leaping in, and it’s also telling me that Admiral Calavicci needs to go to Project Liberty.”

“This sounds like a load of bull, Ziggy. You wouldn’t be lying to me by any chance?”

The blue orb paused slightly before responding, “When it comes to my father, I would never lie.”

Sighing, Al turned to Dom. “Get on the phone and tell the pompous ass that I’m packing now and will be there first thing in the morning.”

Despite his mistrust of Ziggy’s ability to tell the truth when it came to Hawkins, Al had taken the early flight to D.C. Although he felt this trip to Project Liberty was necessary, he was upset that he would not find time to squeeze in a chance to visit with his daughter Jules, who was in the area. It had taken some doing for Ziggy to trace Jules recent phone call to her father, but now it seemed like a wasted task for the time being. Instead, it was off to Hope Springs.

Since Sam’s first leap to this town back in 1985, it had changed drastically. The crime rate dropped dramatically, but most of the buildings and businesses seemed the same. The atmosphere was like a ghost town on the warehouse side of town, which contrasted greatly with the thriving suburbia on the other side.

Few people on the sidewalks stopped to look and see who was on the other side of the tinted windows of the government car. Al was a bit surprised when he had gotten off the plane at Dulles and found a chauffeur waiting for him. He had expected to rent a car for himself, and protested the ride he was being offered, but exhausted as he was, he eventually conceded and climbed into the backseat. Apparently, his visit to Hope Springs was deemed important and his host was going to offer every courtesy possible. Now, he was glad he made his decision, as his back had stiffened up a bit after the flight and he wanted to just relax and not worry about anything. It had been hectic for Al over the last four months as Sam repeatedly leaped in quickly after each previous assignment was completed. Instead of the usual week or so, Sam was leaping in almost a day or two immediately after, giving Al little time to rest. That meant Al’s visit to Hope Springs was going to be extremely short to allow him to head back to New Mexico quickly in case Sam needed him.

The current trip down memory lane in this town reminded him of when Sam, or even the younger version of Sam for that matter, had both almost died at the hands of a rogue leaper named Dr. Maxwell Connors. The rogue leaper was somewhere lost in time, not even God or Time or Fate probably knew where he was right now. Al could only pray that his own existence would not be wiped out by that madman. Then again, anything Sam did over the years could produce that same effect, which really didn’t make him feel any more comfortable than he was feeling at the moment.

Peering out the passenger window, a shiver went down the Admiral’s spine as the car passed by a cemetery. Al always had an aversion to things regarding the supernatural and he tended to shy away from those things if he could. Vampires, ghosts, or even dead people were things he could do without in his lifetime. It also didn’t help that a friend of Sam’s by the name of Dr. Alexander Garner was buried in that cemetery, a victim of cancer in 2003 at the age of 89.

Before long, the car made its way through the heart of the city. Al continued to stare at the scenery in silence, the chauffeur apparently not in a talkative mood. Just as well, since they were now just passing the alleyway where Sam had been injured by a knife in a brawl and the Admiral felt queasy remembering the image of his best friend on a side street lying in a puddle during a downpour, blood trickling from the wound.

After passing what was left of an abandoned dilapidated athletic field, the car made it’s way around another street and cruised past a series of warehouses and storage areas. Before Al could fully recall the memory of Sam being beaten to a pulp during a Memorial Day festival at the athletic field, the sight of a small mountain range alongside a tributary of the Potomac River off in the distance behind the warehouses grabbed his attention. It was breathtaking to see the silver and green scenery combined with the clear blue sky positioned above it. The majestic view made up for the remains of the deserted end of town, which once had been a thriving enterprise. Various people had once made a living running their own warehouse businesses, but Sam’s visit here in the past allowed the government to buy up all these properties at high prices that the owners couldn’t refuse. Now this area was rundown and looked like it needed a facelift badly. The only reason why the town was practically without crime was due to the fact that the government had secretly moved into the neighborhood and kept things in check.

The squeal of the car’s brakes brought Al back to where he was and why he was here in Hope Springs. The vehicle had stopped outside of a large group of warehouses, one of which once housed the drug empire of a Darius Dreck until that previous leap by Sam brought the criminal down. A large fence, most likely electrified, surrounded all the warehouses, cutting off the outside world from intruding on this side of town. All the buildings were now covered with signs reading Hanswik Industries to make it look like one big company (albeit one no one had ever heard of) owned all the property here.

The road leading up to the warehouses finally came to a gate with a security booth. To the casual observer, it looked like the booth of any other business that checked ID and badges before letting ‘employees’ inside. To the trained eye, it spelled government property. Fighting back the strong urge to nod off, Al smirked as his driver handed an ID complete with bar code over to the ‘security guard’. To the Admiral’s tired eyes, he had ‘military soldier’ written all over him. The guard checked the ID and handed it back to the driver before he opened the electrified gate and motioned them through.

Pulling up to one warehouse in particular, the driver stopped the vehicle and seconds later, got out to open Al’s door. Inside the car, Al was fast asleep, snoring loudly. Rolling his eyes, the driver gave the Admiral a light nudge. Stretching from intense fatigue, Al climbed out and tried to overcome the dread that his sense of déjà vu was giving him. Over twenty years ago, Sam had almost died at the hands of Dr. Connors in this building.

The side door to the warehouse opened and Al was greeted by two people who apparently were waiting for him. One was General Hawkins, the man who invited him here. The other person was a tall, muscular man with brown hair in his early forties dressed in what appeared to be a military uniform jumpsuit.

Hawkins knew not to extend his hand to Al as he puffed on a cigar. “Admiral, welcome to Project Liberty. My associate here is Isaac Lane, head of security.”

Al almost made a blunder when he meant to reply with a ‘We already met’, but at the last second kept his mouth shut. Al really wasn’t supposed to know about the secrets inside the warehouse. He wasn’t supposed to know that Hawkins’ project existed underground in Hope Springs, contained an unauthorized copy of Ziggy through the blackmailing of Dominic Lofton, and that Hawkins had to a smaller extent copied Sam’s blueprints for said project. The only reason Al had this knowledge was because Sam had recently leaped into Isaac and as a holographic observer, he got a sneak peak at what was inside. Sweating just a bit, the Admiral hoped that the head of security did not recognize him from his recent visit to the Waiting Room.

Instead of saying the wrong thing, Al smoothly wiped his sweaty palm on his white Admiral’s uniform and extended his hand to Isaac and managed to say, “Mr. Lane. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Isaac responded, almost crushing Al’s hand in a viselike grip.

“You are dismissed,” Hawkins informed the driver as he turned to Al and asked, “Dr. Beckett is between leaps now?”

Al nodded as professionally polite as possible. “As far as I know, he leaped out yesterday, which allowed me to grab the first plane out here to honor your invitation. I am eager to see what awaits inside.” The Admiral nearly winced as he lied about his emotions concerning this project. The less time around Hawkins, the better it would be for him. A few months ago, he had walked in on the General’s Project Quantum Leap office and was a witness to finding two dead personnel on the floor with Hawkins holding a flagpole with a bloody tip. The General had claimed self-defense against spies with Ziggy validating the story. But something in Al’s mind did not add up about the whole affair and Hawkins’ order that he remain quiet about it didn’t help his feelings about any of it.

General Hawkins tried not to scowl. “We shouldn’t be discussing all this outside of the main building.” He stole a quick glance at his watch. “The testing phase is scheduled to commence in one hour. I suppose that gives us time to give you a quick tour,” he said half-heartedly.

At first, the General hesitated, as if he wanted to pull Al aside, and then thought better of it. Al wondered if Hawkins’ conscience was starting to emerge with feelings of guilt over the murders. Maybe the General was ready to talk about it and admit the truth. The look the General had that he wanted to say something vanished, leaving Al more confused over recent events.

Trying to look interested, Al followed the other men into the main warehouse. Out of the corner of his eye, he felt as if someone was watching him from an upper story window. Looking closely, the Admiral decided it was his imagination playing tricks on him. Shrugging, Al walked onward.

For a pregnant woman, Sammy Jo Fuller managed to maneuver her way around the technicians who were busy at work at the entrance to the PQL Control Room. Inside the small chamber she found Tina, Dom, and Ziggy (of course) waiting for her, looks of concern obvious on the human faces.

After popping a bubble with her gum, Tina responded, “We’re still waiting for Donna yet before we get into this.”

“I see,” Sammy Jo frowned, turning her attention to the technicians in the doorway. “Is all this work necessary?”

Dom’s face tightened as he tried to keep his emotions in check, somewhat still angry with himself for recent events. Luckily, everyone knew not to bring up the way Hawkins had recently blackmailed him into giving out top secret project information. “After the leapees showed up a while back and because of the security breach when that guy hitched a ride in my car and almost made it all the way to the project elevator, the government wants to give this place state-of-the-art security measures.”

“Don’t forget like those three recent leap-ins Sammy Jo detected a few months ago,” Tina added.

“How high tech are we talking here?” inquired Sammy Jo who suddenly remembered another occurrence; the female leaper who had temporarily replaced her father when he had leaped back home to the project months earlier.

Another pop of Tina’s gum sounded before Dom answered, “Gonna be a few changes around here. If there is enough in the funding after this phase is complete, I’d like to see a Def-Con type light indicator system hooked up on each level, especially the control room. Basically, if Sam is between leaps, the light indicator is green; a yellow light indicates when he has leaped in somewhere, and a red light will signal if security has been breached. Basically, I’d like to establish a system so that everyone in the project knows Dr. Beckett’s status. For the time being, we’re looking at thermal-scans; infrared kinda stuff. Daniel Fulton, as head of security, is in charge of the installation proceedings. Everyone’s gonna have their own unique thermal body signature encoded into the system. If you aren’t in the system, you can’t access anything, making the elevator and the doors to the lower levels instantly restricted. We’ll have to meet with Beth and Aurora then and have special subcutaneous sensors placed somewhere in our wrists. That will allow Ziggy to track any one of us at any time throughout the levels of the project like a homing device.”

“The downside is that Ziggy or anyone else with access will like know who is doing what with other people,” Tina grumbled. “It’s an invasion of privacy.”

“What about my father?” wondered Sammy Jo. “When the leapee shows up in the Waiting Room, will it show the body signature of the new person or the host?”

“Good question,” mused Dom as Donna entered the room and made her way past the technicians who were now installing sensors in the doorway. “But I am afraid that will have to wait. Now that you’re here Donna, we can get down to the situation at hand.”

Donna Elesee-Beckett kept a stern face as Dom launched into the briefing. “About twenty minutes ago, Sam leaped back into the timeline. The leapee has been under Verbena’s care since yesterday.”
“Since yesterday? These recent leaps have been a marathon for all of us. Will Verbena need some assistance?”

Dom shook his head. “We’re not sure, Donna. I already called Aurora and Beth and had them go to the Waiting Room to assist. Verbena told me she just witnessed something extraordinary. Right after the leap-in, the leapee immediately laid down flat, went rigid, and then acted as though it were deceased. All vital signs were barely there. Heart rate was extremely slow, and synaptic functions were almost non-existent, meaning the leapee by all appearances became a vegetable. But then, as if a switch had been thrown, all vital functions returned and synaptic energy resumed normally.”

“What does all this mean?” inquired Donna. “Is my husband affected somehow?”

Dom raised a hand. “I’m getting to that. Based on vital readings and the synaptic patterns, the best guess from Verbena is that the leapee had an out of body experience, as if the soul had left the shell behind and then returned to inhabit the body again. The leapee suddenly bolted upright, shivering from lack of heat. It, because we don’t know the gender, thinks it’s dead and gone to heaven; won’t tell me who it is, so right now we have no way of knowing the person’s identity.”

“Can’t Ziggy figure out who our guest is?” Sammy Jo aimed her question at Ziggy, whose blue sphere seemed to stop swirling slightly but remained silent.

“Ziggy is very perplexed right now,” responded Tina. “Something seems to be blocking her ability to think clearly on anything regarding this new leap. Ask her to perform any task or find information on anything not related to this leap, and she can fulfill her assignments. As soon as she tries to compute any type of data or make a prediction for this leap, her system goes into a loop until we can give her something else to work on. Something has her spinning her wheels.”

“Great,” muttered Sammy Jo. “My father has leaped into someone who at times is a vegetable and our parallel-hybrid computer is displaying the same ability?”

“Afraid so,” Dom replied gravely. “To make things worse, something has affected Ziggy’s circuitry regarding the Imaging Chamber door. Nothing appears wrong with it from what Tina and I had checked out, but for some reason when we try to open the door, Ziggy goes into that loop again. Even the override has failed and we don’t know why. Until we can get the door to open, we have no idea how this leap is affecting Dr. Beckett.”

“Don’t blame the Admiral,” asserted Dom. “He left right after Sam had leaped out. There was no way to know that Sam was going to leap back in sooner than Ziggy predicted, even though this has been happening frequently lately.”

“It still doesn’t help any of us that we can’t figure out who the leapee is. Worse than that, no one can get inside the Imaging Chamber to help Sam,” worried Donna as she looked up at the swirling blue sphere and wondered what had become of her husband and Ziggy this time.

* * *

‘Am I dead?’ Sam wondered. ‘Did I kill myself? I remember feeling a young girl’s guilt over someone dying, and I also remember holding a razorblade and slashing my throat. Now I’m here standing over myself, I must be dead. Maybe it’s a nightmare. If it is, I’d like to wake up now.’

There was no doubt in Sam’s mind that the person lying on the examination table he was hovering over was somehow himself, right down to the wisp of gray hair and the crow’s feet. An image flashed in his mind of sitting at the bar at Al’s Place and seeing himself in the mirror, wondering if he was dreaming or not. Sam wondered if there was a connection or an explanation to all this.

The leaper would not get the chance to find out as the door next to the one-way mirror suddenly flew open, spilling light into the room. Before Sam knew what had happened, the room seemed to spin in a whirl of light, and he quickly found himself lying on the table, shivering from the cold as he felt his movements constricted slightly by the electrodes and silver discs he could now feel attached to himself.

A dark haired man in his late forties wearing a white medical jacket rushed into the room. “Reg, are you ok?”

The man grabbed a blanket from underneath the examination table and quickly threw it over Sam and then hit a switch to turn on the room’s heating unit. Gradually, Sam’s shaking subsided and the man started to check the machines alongside the table.

“Incredible,” the man remarked. “Look at all the activity on these pages. The EKG and EEG readings went off the scale for a few seconds, and that was before it recorded the decrease in synaptic activity.”

“What was that?” asked the man as he leaned over to examine Sam. The identification badge on his lapel read Dr. Daniels.

“Nothing, doctor. Just disoriented.” Looking into the mirror by the door only added to the confusion. He wasn’t seeing himself anymore. The image staring back at him was a young male in his early twenties with blonde hair and a clean-shaven average face. ‘He called me Reg,’ Sam realized. ‘I’m not here as myself.’

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Much warmer. That weird experience was the longest few minutes of my life.”

The doctor gave Sam a quizzical look. “Few minutes? Reg, the event only lasted twenty seconds.”

“Can you describe it at all? Apparently, time seemed to move slower for you.”

Sam thought carefully over his answer. “It was like being in a dream state. I felt myself floating. Things looked distorted. I thought I was dead.”

A smile came to Daniels’ face. “You almost did it! You were on the verge of astral projecting yourself.”

“We’ll do another test shortly once you’re ready to try again. If this works, imagine what this would mean for science. Other quantum states of being, other realities, turning the mind into pure energy, and being free from the bonds of our mortal shells. Of course, once those military big-shots get word that this might work, they’re gonna exploit it anyway they can.”

Sam looked up concerned, feeling as though he had heard this tune once too many times before recently. “What’s the military got to do with this?”

“I know you’ve only been here two days, but don’t tell me you volunteered without anyone explaining the purpose of this to you?” Sam’s silence brought a sigh from the doctor as he continued. “The research done here at the Williams Science Institute is geared towards metaphysical and parapsychic phenomena and applying it to military operations. Basically, we are attempting to develop astral projection and ESP abilities to aid the military.”

Sam started to chuckle. “If I recall something I read in school once, parapsychic phenomena also included the existence of angels or the souls of the dead on another plane of existence.”

“True,” agreed Daniels, “but I don’t understand the humor here. I take my research very seriously.”

“I have a friend named Al,” Sam explained, “who tried to convince me once that angels exist. I wish he was standing here right now to listen to us talk about it.” He kept waiting for the whoosh of the Imaging Chamber door but never got it.

“Maybe your friend Al could try to convince the Colonel sent here to observe the experiments for his boss General Horowitz. He thinks that the research here is a waste of time and that none of these projects will ever work. Somehow I feel that even if I can prove you have astral projection ability, that Hawkins guy is just gonna shoot my research down.”

Sam sat up on the table, as a memory from a past leap came to light. “Hawkins is here?”

Sam tried not to let the shock show on his face. “Uhh, never mind. Must be thinking of someone else. The Hawkins I knew was a young cadet, more like a security guard.”

“Doesn’t sound like the colonel, although you might run into him. He’s spending the day in the ESP ward voicing his opinions on how this institute is a waste of time.”

The leaper leaned back down on the table, exhaled deeply, and muttered, “Ohhh, boy…”

PART TWO

Al managed to keep his cool about the new project as General Hawkins and Isaac Lane showed him around the project. The main warehouse was crawling with armed guards and the upper levels that were once Darius Dreck’s private offices were now converted into computer rooms and complex surveillance suites. Near the far wall was a metal staircase that led upstairs to the upper levels and close by was a large, wide stack of crates that piled up to the ceiling. Isaac slid a small secret panel on one of the crates to reveal elevator controls and pushed a button.

Moments later, the front panels slid up on a few of the bottom crates to reveal an open elevator car. General Hawkins nodded for Al to follow Isaac and himself inside. After the door closed, Hawkins pushed a button and the car traveled downward.

“We’re passing the original underground levels that were built under this warehouse,” Isaac explained. “The drug dealer that once owned this had about three hidden floors for his illegal drug racket. Those levels we converted to housing, personnel, cafeteria, and recreational areas. After obtaining this building we tunneled out some more floors for the main part of the project.”

The elevator came to a stop and all three men stepped out and headed down a brightly lit, long corridor. At the end of the hall was the entrance to another elevator with a marine guard on duty who snapped a salute as the others entered the other elevator.

“I feel like I’m in the opening credits of Get Smart with all these long hallways,” quipped Al to relieve the nervous tension he was experiencing. “Do we get to fall down inside a telephone booth at the end?” Isaac chuckled at that remark while Hawkins made no show of emotion.

The ride this time was shorter and barely a few seconds later, they stepped out into another hallway. Two marine guards this time blocked a doorway at the far end. They too saluted Hawkins as the General placed his hand on an identification scanner mounted on the wall by the door. The red light above the scanner turned green and the door slid to the side with a whoosh.

As they entered, Al still found himself impressed by the sleek Control Room despite his objections to this project. Computer consoles were everywhere as were numerous technicians who scurried around performing final diagnostic checks. One technician was David Watkins, the grandson of Arnold Watkins, the Midnight Marauder from one of Sam’s past leaps. With a nod and a slight smile, David hurried past Al to give an attractive, voluptuous, leggy female technician his clipboard.

“That tall blonde technician you seem to have just noticed. That’s Lexia Stafford, head programmer for this project. Don’t tangle with her, she’s very smart. The body count on crushed male egos with her is beyond number.”

Isaac shrugged. “That hasn’t stopped some of our personnel here. At least one person a week tries to tame Red Sonja over there. Tell me she doesn’t look like a young Brigette Nielsen with that blonde hair.”

Al dismissed the thought as he then peered out the thick glass windows to get a good glimpse of the main project. It was like being in a press box looking out a few feet over a basketball court. In this case, the Imaging Chamber Grid appeared to be in a pit below. The door between the two sets of glass windows in the Control Room led out to a narrow walkway ledge with railings that traveled all around the chamber, leading to an elevator on the right side that led down to the Imaging Chamber Grid below. More marines guarded the elevator. Across the chamber, past the pit, was the Accelerator Chamber. The far-left wall housed the Conference Room. Suspended above the pit was a giant blue sphere. A smaller version was placed in the ceiling in the Control Room.

Al shook his head in disgust as he saw the finished product of what Hawkins had forced Dom to create for him. Turning around inside the Control Room, Al glanced around at some of the computer consoles. Some were just simply computer terminals while others housed video monitors that showed live video feeds from the Accelerator and the Imaging Chamber Grid.

All talking in the room ceased as the doors that led out to the walkway ledge opened and Captain Tom Beckett, brought out of retirement as a former Commander, walked in, dressed in his old military uniform. Behind him were four soldiers dressed in odd military fatigues, and bringing up the rear in a guard’s uniform was J.T. Beckett.

Tom ignored Al and marched up to General Hawkins to report. “Mission briefing in the Conference Room complete. All essential personnel ready for test phase as ordered.”

“Excellent,” Hawkins nodded as he turned to J.T. “Prepare for next phase of the mission. Take the soldiers over to the Accelerator Chamber immediately.”

J.T. and the four soldiers saluted as they marched out to the walkway and headed along the ledge to the Accelerator Chamber.

“While we wait, Admiral,” Hawkins began, “I think it is time that you were brought up to speed. Months ago, I told you that President Bush wanted to focus more on anti-terrorist related projects. When I had informed him that Dr. Beckett’s project was a success, it was decided to create a project that dealt with fighting terrorism in a manner that involved time travel. Project Liberty is the end result. After numerous scientific think tank committees and the assistance of Dr. Samuel Beckett’s proven theories, we are now about to embark on an historic mission. We will have improved upon Dr. Beckett’s project by sending small elite troops into the past as themselves. No leapees and no Waiting Room required. The soldiers will go back fully clothed; their fatigues are specially designed Fermi suits. These soldiers will ensure that no one else will go back and change things that will affect the course of American history. What you will see here today is the evolution of Project Quantum Leap.”

Al was unmoved by the speech. “What you’re doing is playing God. What do you really hope to accomplish with this?”

“This project will stand ready to combat any foreign powers that decide to alter our way of life, and with Omega, our parallel hybrid computer running the show, we will have fair warning to send troops back in the event of an emergency. Ultimately, should today’s test prove successful, the President has authorized that we initiate an attempt to send soldiers back to prevent the airplane attacks of 9-11.”

“You disapprove of Project Liberty, Admiral? A pity. I really wanted you on my side in this matter, considering you help Dr. Beckett ‘Play God’ on a regular basis.”

“Damn right I disapprove…sir. Whether you believe it or not, there is a force beyond our reasoning. Call it Time, Fate, God, or whatever you want, but this force has been selecting Sam’s assignments. For you to just pick and choose your missions as you please goes against this force’s plans. Hell, you could even find yourself undoing any number of Sam’s previous leaps. I admit I lost a lot of friends in the Pentagon on 9-11, and I would dearly love to bring them all back. At one time, I truly wished Sam could will himself back and change it.”

“Something you once said, General, when you talked about how Sam’s failure to capture Dr. Braden in 1985 didn’t actually change much in the whole scheme of things.”

“You told me that if Dr. Braden had been stopped by Sam, some other criminal element might have come up with a similar idea to Project Quantum Leap. ‘Where there is one, there is another and another’. Did I misquote you? Because I feel the same holds true to stopping 9-11. If that horrible tragedy were to be prevented, the terrorists would have come up with something else until they had succeeded in attacking this country again. Stopping one thing would cause another to happen.”

“But that is the beauty of this project,” reasoned the General. “We prevent 9-11 and as soon as the terrorists try

something else, Omega notices the change in history and we send our troops back to prevent that. Our best scientists described it to the President as a temporal war scenario, and we have to be ready to fight on that battleground, whenever it may be.”

Al chewed on his lower lip. “Perhaps it has some merit. However, I question your methods to get to this point. You sliced funding from other projects including Sam’s to finance this, stole ideas from the blueprints for Sam’s project to build this, and you blackmailed one of my men to get a working copy of Ziggy to run your project. Using your influence, you then manipulated one of Sam’s leaps to secure a location for this project. Above all else, there is now blood on your hands. I question your morals that you had the audacity to do all this. The end result does not justify the means.”

A quizzical look came over the General’s face. “Blood on my hands? What are you talking about? Surely there is no need for overdramatics, Admiral. I admit I may have done a few unorthodox things on the road to launching this project—”

“Un-Unorthodox?!” Al sputtered. “You call what you did to those two men--? Forget it, you don’t want to talk about it with all these people around. You may have swept all this under the rug, but don’t think you’ve heard the end of this. Believe me, sir, this is gonna be like the snake charmer who turned his back on the cobra. It’s gonna bite you in the ass.”

An almost evil smile came to Hawkins’ face. “If you feel you have evidence to bring me up on charges, Admiral, then by all means file a report. Right now, I have a Presidential Approval card in my hand, which gives me all the right I need. Nothing you can do will stick to me in a court of law, so you might as well give your support to this project because it is going to become operational in just moments.”

Before Al could argue further, the outer door opened and J.T. entered the room. “All soldier personnel are situated inside the Accelerator Chamber, sir.”

J.T. saluted the General and assumed a position by the back wall of the Control Room, which contained a spiral stairwell that led down to the Imaging Chamber Grid. That entranceway could only be opened by a special code.

“Tell me something, General,” Al inquired skeptically, “how are you going to be able to supply power to leap four people back at the same time? Sam’s project takes up quite a bit of power just for one person.”

The General smirked. “Come now, Admiral. Surely you can’t believe that a power source big enough to run this project is located under the warehouse.”

Al’s eyes widened in understanding. “The mountains. You built a nuclear reactor under all those mountains?”

A twinkle shone in Hawkins’ eyes. “Wasn’t easy to tunnel all that out, but we managed. What took the longest amount of time was connecting the control center of this complex to the reactor. Our biggest concern was accidentally digging into the water on the surface above. The tributary and its springs provide adequate water to power the energy plant. The citizens of Hope Springs have been living in the shadow of a nuclear reactor for the last six years and have no idea as to its existence. The facility also has a power collector to absorb the quantum energy. Can’t have the damn mountains glowing all day and night to attract tourists and other unwelcome guests.”

“Collecting that much energy is dangerous,” Al countered. “What would happen to this town if that collector overloaded and went critical?”

Before the General could reply, the door that led to the long hallway opened and a familiar, clean-shaven, well-groomed man in his late forties entered the room. “Dr. Hasselein,” Hawkins greeted the newcomer. “Welcome, we are just moments away from testing the project. Hopefully, you’ll have a favorable report to take back to the President.”

“I hope so, too,” responded Dr. Hasselein. “The fact that it doesn’t appear you are ready at this moment has me concerned.”

“Well,” squirmed the General, “we had a slight glitch in our main computer software this morning. At first it appeared that another program was trying to overwrite itself but after careful scrutiny, it appears that it cleared up. No traces of any foreign software present. A minor setback, I assure you. As soon as Ms. Stafford runs a few more quick tests, we will be ready. In the meantime, please take a moment to meet the staff and ask questions.”

Obviously not pleased, Hasselein excused himself and wandered off to observe Tom talking with Lexia and David, then decided instead to head towards a rear station where a medical crew was monitoring the vital signs of the soldiers on four special monitors. “That was the Chief Scientific Advisor to the President,” Hawkins explained.

“Few months ago, I believe,” recalled the General. “Been so busy with Project Liberty, I tend to have trouble keeping track of time or remembering what day it is.”

“Experienced lapses in time you can’t explain?” Al remarked sarcastically.

Something in what Al said struck the General hard, and Al didn’t miss it. “Was it something I said?”

For the first time, Al saw the General as a vulnerable, fragile individual. Hawkins’ confidence and arrogance seemed to have been ripped away from him.

The fragile look on Hawkins’ face disappeared, as it looked like the General was about to change his mind again about getting something heavy off his chest. Any chance of Al prompting Hawkins further to open up about his problem was lost as Captain Beckett walked to the center of the control room and motioned for everyone to be silent.

“Ladies and gentleman,” Tom finally announced. “Ms. Stafford has finished final diagnostics and in a few minutes, everything will be a go. Everyone to his or her stations please. General, Admiral, and Dr. Hasselein, you may stand at the far window to observe.”

As everybody moved to his or her positions, Tom grabbed Al’s arm and pulled him aside. “Did you tell Sam about his mother dying yet, Admiral?”

Al pulled his arm away and straightened his sleeve. “No,” he replied indignantly. “You know I won’t do that.”

Sighing, Tom stared at Al coldly. “Then it was justified that I took the job here. If you won’t tell Sam, then I am gonna use this project to do what I can to find my brother and bring him home, even if you won’t help me.”

Tom spun on his heels and stormed away as Al called after him, “Guess not.” God, how can this guy be related to Sam?

All eyes now were staring out across the pit of the Imaging Chamber grid to the Accelerator room on the other side. Looking through the windows, the forms of the four soldiers could be seen, each one standing equidistant apart.

“Alignment is in sync,” David Hawkins announced from his computer station in front of the other set of windows that overlooked the project.

“Sigmatron on line?” came the question from Lexia Stafford from her post at the multi-colored control station in the middle of the room. Above her, the blue globe of Omega swirled in time to the vastly larger version of the orb that hung suspended over the Imaging Chamber grid outside.

Despite his objections, Al couldn’t help but feel the excitement build as the hum of the Accelerator and Omega’s systems geared up into a powerful crescendo. The hairs on the Admiral’s back began to rise. Whether from goose bumps or from the static electrical power being produced, he couldn’t tell.

“Firing!” yelled Lexia as she placed her hand on the top of the multi-colored console. Above her, Omega’s globe began to pulse and glow even brighter, almost like a sun growing larger.

Remembering Gooshie’s description once about how the former head programmer was immersed in the wake of quantum energy when Sam first leaped, Al expected to feel the effects of the Accelerator overtake him, but then he realized that this new project design kept all that energy spread across the chamber. Apparently all the power was absorbed or distributed to all the rooms through the large Omega sphere outside, making it the central hub of the project.

Across the chamber, all eyes watched inside the Accelerator room as the four soldiers used as test subjects began to glow in blue leap energy, their arms reaching upward in euphoria.

“Confirmed,” Tom Beckett stated from another station. “After leap-in is complete, I will initiate next phase.” Seconds later, the four forms disappeared, leaving the Accelerator empty. “Heading for the Imaging Chamber.” Tom walked over to the doorway next to his son, J.T. and entered his code to take the winding stairway down to the pit.

“One of four, actually,” Hawkins replied. “The other three are still recovering in the medical ward from having the neural links installed in their brains. Tom was the only one who could handle it without ill effects. For some strange reason, Omega only likes Captain Beckett’s link. Besides, for this operation all four soldiers will be in the same area, so one observer will suffice. We only need four observers when they are split up in different locations. That’s why the grid is split up into four squares. We can monitor all four from up here separately.”

The room quieted as each square below suddenly contained a blue glowing form. As the glow dissipated, a test soldier took up each space. Everyone in the control room cheered as the soldiers looked around confused in their new environment, which consisted of an empty office with two windows and a door.

“Instantaneous leaping?” Al said in disbelief. “No lag time in between?”

“Come now, Admiral, my scientists may not be as smart as Dr. Beckett, but I put enough of them together that they were able to come up with something that was an upgrade. Originally, the President wanted us to simply send a man back at least seven days into the past. I think we outdid our goals here, wouldn’t you say?”

Al could only nod in agreement as he realized how obsolete Sam’s project was about to become.

PROLOGUE

PART ONE

“Are you feeling better now?”

PART TWO