Chapter Six - In Tempus Veritas

PROJECT QUANTUM LEAP, CURRENT TRANS-TEMPORAL YEAR 1999 (SUBJECT TO CHANGE)

Doctor David Banner, physician and scientist, was now standing in a sound-proof chamber, conversing freely with the astounding creation of his best student and good friend. Banner seriously lamented not having a Ziggy when he strapped himself down in 1977. Then again, he realized, this hadn't prevented Sam from in a sense also being a victim of his experiments.

"I'll accept that perhaps I tapped into some kind of *unterweltdonner*---a kind of subsumed universal rage, Ziggy. But I think that you should accept that perhaps Sam has created a 'leaping Hulk'. That perhaps the 'unknown force' is a meta-version of Sam himself, existing as far beyond Sam's direct control as the creature in me is beyond mine. Because I have to tell you, all the places that Sam has ended up that you've told me of sound like the kind of places Sam would go to help out, quantum accelerator or no."

The hybrid super-computer had chosen at this time not to reveal several things to its new friend. Among them was how various aspects of the scientist's work, including gamma-accessed synthesized pituitary and hypothalamus surges, had gone into its basic construction as an approximation of an organic brain. There were other, much darker secrets, of course.

"I have on occasion dabbled with the theory that Doctor Beckett is leaping himself, David. Yet I have also seen vast evidence that his desire to come home is just as deep as his desire to crusade, so to speak. If these desires are co-equal, and in fact I believe the bias is towards a homecoming, then either this theory is contraindicated, or is mitigated by--again, our unknown force. And I still hold that, unterweltdonner or no, you have a level of control over the Hulk that you have never imagined. Perhaps in a life less frenzied, you would have found your way to this same conclusion."

David knew an opening when he saw it, and went for broke.

"Speaking of what-ifs, why do I have the feeling that Sam wasn't meant to leap into me in 1991?"

"Very astute, David. In fact, I am nearly certain that the original primary purpose of your leap was circumvented. Is your sedative patch attached? Because I am afraid what I have to say will prove quite provocative."

David nodded. The patch, activated by a sudden huge spike in blood pressure, was a bothersome but wise concession to make, all things considered.

"I'm ready."

"I hope that you are. Very well. Based on the energy pathway readings from prior leaps, I would guess or estimate that the original target date of your leap was the early 1970's, circa 1973 to early 1975. Based on the events of your life at that time and his prior real-time lack of success in rousing you from your grieving process, I must assume that Doctor Beckett's purpose would have been to prevent the death of your first wife, Laura Banner."

If anything, David's blood pressure dropped at that moment. He spoke in a strong voice, though.

"Then if we can get Sam back on track, I'll probably never become the Hulk at all! Laura's death was what drove me to do the research I did, and to be as reckless as I was. Ziggy, what made Sam end up where he did in my life?"

"You did, David. I believe that the gamma wavelengths your body emitted in 1991, albeit at non-lethal levels, match very well with the time-stream energies that send Doctor Beckett on his way. This in turn diverted Doctor Beckett from that portion of the 'thread' of your life before your mutation."

David felt not rage, but helpless despair, as Ziggy's words truly kicked in.

"What you're saying is, Sam or your unknown force wanted to help me and Laura--but that the Hulk stopped them."

"I truly wish there were a way of phrasing this gently, David. Though superior, I am not without feelings in these matters. But yes, what you have said is essentially correct. However, if we allow instead for the unknown force having a different agenda, and take into account your wide-ranging activities and the effects of same after your supposed death, a new possibility emerges that could give this leap a secondary purpose well beyond the importance of one human life."

David's eyes showed a fearful glare, even though he was in no danger of changing at that point.

"Well, Ziggy, having set yourself up as a mechanical god over time and space, I'm sure it's easy for you to see it that way. But for this poor stupid mortal who's cursed himself, all I see is that I've damned both Laura and myself all over again. Unless--could I be leaped into myself at that time?"

"Watch yourself, David. I have no divine aspirations, though I do fancy myself as the result of such inspiration. And leaping for you is impossible. You would accomplish nothing, save the infection of your leap host--be it yourself, your wife, or even someone like Doctor Beckett or Doctor Eleese. Think clearly, David. Laura did not die as the result of any experiment. No one plotted against her, or sabotaged your brake-lines. A car overturning and then bursting into flames is a tragedy. But it is also mundane and comprehensible. To use your own argument, that effort is the sort of event Doctor Beckett would seek to correct--if and only if his were the sole voice in such a decision making process. But if a larger goal were within reach, then perhaps it follows that certain things, however sad, were always part of the way things were meant to be."

The scientist was not losing control of his body. His emotions were another story entirely.

"How can you--how can any of you here, Sam included, claim to care about anybody when you simply decide that my Laura has to die again? Then, like craven cowards, you invoke this theory of God/Time/Fate/Whatever to justify a series of cold, cruel hearts. Give me the Hulk any day over the lot of you! At least his rage is pure and honest, and doesn't hide behind a bunch of new age malarkey. I've read more coherent theories about how the world works in Jack McGee's tabloid newspaper!"

David would now learn just why everyone at the Project gave Ziggy such a wide berth when conversing with it. The super computer could be superbly brutal, when roused. Only Al got away with what David had just done, and not very often.

"Yes, David. The creature's rage is pure. So pure, in fact, that in well over 90% of projected scenarios, it will emerge one final time before this leap is somehow done with, leading to a catastrophic or like event in the existence of Project Quantum Leap. This may well entail the destruction of the project, and the end of our connection with Doctor Beckett, as he leaps through time."

David looked up at the pulsing light indicating Ziggy's voice. He shook his head.

"You're making that up. I got upset, so you got me back. Not very superior, Ziggy."

"My motivation in saying these things is less than pure, David. But that does not make them untrue. Your leap has introduced the greatest element of chaos into the structure of my world since Doctor Beckett was first informed of pending congressional budget cuts."

David Banner gulped openly. He realized what he had said, and to what type of being he had said it all to. He remembered so very many poor exchanges like this one, both before and after the Hulk became a part of him. He almost wondered if it was the man who needed the cure, instead of the monster.

"Ziggy, I was out of line. But I'd like this conflict to be done. So if you have anything else to say--I'll just ask you to do it now, and get it over with."

"Actually, David, I found the whole experience quite enlightening. So many times, such things end with either myself or Admiral Calavicci 'one-upping' each other. To truly draw verbal weapons and shoot it out gives me a new experience to reflect upon. For that I thank you. But I do have one more thing to say. I have studied another pivotal event in your life. I have accessed records from the fire department, the police department, the insurance company, the lab's own investigators, and the oddly missing pieces of the account of a certain reporter of our mutual distasteful acquaintance, as concerns the night your running began."

David tried to be more subtle, this time, as he responded.

"Jack McGee can be overzealous, Ziggy. But he's not a bad man, and he's not my enemy. He's never done me any real harm."

"You may find yourself thinking otherwise, David. In fact, after I present my evidence, findings and conclusion, I am certain that your opinion of Jack McGee will change forever."

David did listen, and he heard and took in every last word and detail of what Ziggy presented to him. And when the 'big picture' had been combined with logical supposition and common-sense assumptions about that night in 1977, Ziggy was proven correct. For David Banner now felt that if Sam Beckett were to murder Jack McGee, it would be no great loss. In fact, he felt, the world--his world, in particular, just might be a much better place.

-----

1991

In a joy apparent to all three men present and future, Jack McGee strode towards the man he saw as David Banner. He almost seemed to be pinching himself.

"It's over. I mean, it's really over. The Hulk is John Doe, and John Doe is David Banner. Well, you've led me a merry chase, my friend. And you've thrown me off the trail countless times. I even gave up on you just long enough to have a serious paper hire me again."

Sam saw in what he still retained of David's memories that Jack had not been present for either the incident with Matt Murdock or his encounter with 'Jasmine'. He also recalled something else.

"Going back to being a legitimate reporter was always your real goal, Jack. Why bother with me, then?"

McGee shook his head.

"I still hear the snickers. I still get pranked. My publisher still has people who want me sent back to that stinking tabloid. You, Doctor Banner, are my ticket to silencing them all. To showing that not only am I once again a real reporter, but that I always was."

Sam shrugged, and spoke to Al as well as McGee.

"Which leaves me exactly where?"

Al answered first, and he answered quickly.

"Don't go with him, Sam. Ziggy says that he'll plan a big media blowout to introduce you around--but that you both kind of disappear before it can go off. Could be a government agency, not necessarily our government's, a rogue lab, a cult--or even---"

Al looked away from the hand-link.

"Weapons manufacturers. Bio-weapons, to be precise. Or they will be, once they have you on the table."

Al didn't have to add in the very real possibility of the parties analyzing Sam finding out that he was not David Banner. It had almost happened once before. But now Jack answered.

"Well, it leaves you in a better position than you are now. Look at you. A fugitive accused of two murders, one of them your own. No life, no friends. So you jump from town to town, stopping along the way to right some random wrong, and always hoping that the next connection will be the one that provides your cure. Almost sounds like a bad TV pilot."

Again, a desperate Sam spoke to both the visible and the invisible at once.

"What do you recommend I do?"

Al was blunt, even more so than normal.

"Get ready to run, Sam!"

While unsure just what this might accomplish, Sam did just that as Jack answered.

"We'll get you a lawyer. You caused Doctor Marks' death as the Hulk, so I don't see how any judge could possibly hold you...hey!! Where are you going? I have your face, Banner! I almost caught you countless times without knowing what you really look like. How much easier will it be now?"

Al was just as blunt as they moved away from the reporter, and he offered some small hope.

"Ignore him, Sam, and just keep running. He may have Banner's face, but so long as he doesn't have you, there's a chance. If we can get to some rough desert terrain just a little ahead, that little sports car rental of his won't be able to follow."

"Al, if this is it--the end for David, the end for leaping---"

"Shut up, Sam."

"I'm glad I'm facing it with you, at least one more time."

Now he quotes Tolkien, Al mentally groaned.

"I said shut up, Sam. This isn't over, Mister. Not by a long shot."

Yet in the distance, Jack McGee proved that reckless impatience was not the sole province of brilliant scientists. He slammed his car's hood as he prepared to get in.

"Not this time. Not this time."

As Al said, the car was hardly made for rough terrains. But the highway Sam ran on was a different story.

"Not this time."

Sam kept on, tantalizingly near his goal.

"I could have sworn I twisted my ankle earlier. But I'm fine now."

"Sam, analyze later! Besides, Banner said that changing into the Hulk can even fix massive spinal trauma, including the near severing of the cord."

Sam stopped dead in his tracks, at that.

"My Lord, Al. The implications of what that could mean for medical science are mind-boggling!"

Al couldn't believe his friend. He also couldn't believe the sight of an obsessed McGee, bearing down on the targeted scientist.

"Sam, MOVE!!!!"

"NOT THIS TIME!!!!!!"

Far from braking or stopping, McGee ended Sam's run in the worst way possible. The car slammed into Sam, who had managed to start moving, and who did manage to roll a bit with the impact. Al looked on as the brainwave connection between him and Sam began its final breakdown.

"My God. No. Sam."

Perhaps the impact finally woke McGee to the insanity of his actions, for he broke hard around Sam, and then got out when stopped to inspect him.

"What have I done?"

Al looked at Jack McGee with a rage that might scare even the Hulk.

"Congrats, Nozzle. You just replaced Jane Fonda on my list. Yeah--THAT list. And at least she could claim to be young, naive and high. If this man dies, then I will find you and hunt you down like the dog you are. When I get through with you, you'll wish you'd been taken by the Khmer Rouge instead."

But the attention of both men turned to the man Al knew was Sam Beckett and that McGee saw as David Banner.

"David? David, please get up. Don't be dead. I'm sorry. I don't know what overtook me. I'm not like this. I'm not a murderer. Please. Just be alive."

"Sam? Sam, get up and chew on this moron's ear. Kick him downstairs. Don't be dead. It can't all end like this. I owe you too damned much, Sam Beckett. Think of Donna. Think of Sammy Jo and her little girl. Hell, think of Banner. The poor schlub's got enough to deal with, without his leap taking you away from us."

The figure on the ground at last began to stir. One arm looked broken, and possibly a leg as well. But he was breathing. Jack McGee looked up and mouthed a 'thank you'. Al kept himself from praying that McGee would find that cliff bottom in Ziggy's prediction. His long-absent mother had given him that much restraint.

"Banner, come on. Just look at me. Just look..."

"Sam, look up. Look me in the eye. Show me you're alright. Just look..."

Neither Calavicci nor McGee ever received a shock quite like the one they got when Sam Beckett did as they asked, and looked them in the eyes. The eyes were not cut or missing, nor were they bleeding. They were green and wide.

"No, Sam. Please. This is the last time we may get to speak. Changing now will chop the connection off like a frog in a blender."

But the grunting had begun, and as Sam's skin and muscles expanded, also turning green, Jack McGee ran like thunder, got in his car, and peeled off. Al wanted to curse the reporter anew, but realized this would keep Sam from becoming a murderer for now. Besides, the image of the world around him was cutting out as Sam continued changing.

"Sam, fight it! You're better than this."

The new clothes tore and became ragged, as surely as the old ones had. His shoes fell off, shredded like confetti. The last thing Al saw before the transformation was complete was the sight of Sam's creature, who still had a bit of Beckett's features in its face, flex widely and then roar like a bull elephant never had. Then Al Calavicci lost all contact with Sam Beckett.

The Imaging Chamber opened, and Al strode across the project, seeing David Banner working on one of the spare hand-links. In one motion, he was right next to Banner. In two, Calavicci drew back his fist, and before anyone could stop him, his third motion knocked David down to the floor. David checked his now bloodied nose, and when he looked up he once again saw the barrel of Al Calavicci's sidearm, the weapon cocked and aimed straight at his head. Al said two words to Banner as he drew a second weapon to keep his friends at bay.

"Change. Please."

But David just wiped off his face, and took a handkerchief offered him to stop further bleeding. He looked at Al.

"You want the Hulk, Admiral, you'll have to do a lot better than a punch to the nose."

Al was shaking, but still held up the weapons.

"It's your fault, Banner. It's all your fault. Sam changed, dammit. He's changed into the Hulk, and now I'll never see my friend again."

David put his hands over both barrels. If Al pulled either trigger, a Hulk in worlds of pain would emerge, fulfilling Ziggy's loathsome prediction. Al sat down and permitted the weapons to be taken from him. Donna sat next to a man who literally had just lost his best friend, and held him while he fought not to fall completely apart. David tried his best to calm what Al must have been feeling.

"Ziggy told me about the Hulk and the Project, Al. And I've told everyone else. We won't let it happen. I will not permit myself to be the one that destroys Sam's dream."

Al shook his head.

"Maybe it's only fair, David. I mean maybe you should get to destroy our little world here. Cause we sure as hell wrecked yours for good."

"What do you mean?"

Al now looked very apologetic as he spoke.

"McGee was lying in wait as Sam walked down the highway. Had him---had you–ID'd in a heartbeat. So Sam tried to run. Well, Jack McGee must really have wanted that story, cause he chased after Sam in his car, almost running him down. Donna, Sam was alright, basically. But I guess I don't need to tell you what the pain from his injuries triggered."

David now felt a burning hatred of his long-time pursuer.

"So Jack McGee has his dog-faced-boy trophy. Well, he won't have him for long. None of you worry. We're going to get Sam out of this---and in the process give Jack a story he'll never forget."

Al was still sullen, so a Donna too busy to know what David had done with the spare hand-link asked the obvious question.

"David, how can we help Sam? We can't send Al back in. The part of the brain we used for that last session in the imaging chamber will resist further use, and Sam's physiology has drifted too far for Al's brain-waves to synchronize with his. It would take forever to realign him or anyone else."

David closed up the radically remodeled hand-link. He then looked over at the door to the imaging chamber.

"Who said Al was going in?"

Calavicci looked up, thankfully looking not angry but confused.

"You're going in?"

Gooshie shook a finger in the air.

"That actually makes sense. After all, Doctor Beckett's mutation derives from David's own. They might already be in a synchronous mode."

Tina shrugged.

"We know that Doctor Beckett needs contact with this project, if only as a lifeline. If it were me, I might start to think that there was no time-traveling, and that maybe I'd just lost what mind I have."

Beeks sighed.

"On the one hand, David is ideal, Donna. But David---two cancer victims together can either pull each other up or turn their frustration upon each other. Ever hear what happened to the Patchwork Dog and The Calico Cat?"

Sammy Jo Fuller spoke in echoes of the voice that had brought them all there.

"Well, there can't be any leaping until all this is settled. We need contact to tell Doctor Beckett what we have planned--whatever that might be. We can't leap Doctor Banner out unless that contact is so nano-tight, that only Doctor Beckett in 1991 is the affected party. Anything else risks exporting the Hulk across the time-line. Though that one little boy with the wild big sister would have no worries ever again."

Jolene Collins checked her cell-phone camera before speaking. Little David and Little Abby were safe in the secure nursery, three floors below.

"I only knew Doctor Beckett briefly before he made his initial leap. But this man I have known since I was just a scared little girl who wanted the mother that didn't want her. If we can get these two minds together, there is nothing we cannot accomplish."

Donna smiled.

"David, Jolene never heard you two debate the possibilities of a Grand Unified Theory. Al, you may have overstepped your bounds a few dozen times, but the imaging chamber is your kingdom. What do you say?"

Al waved his hand in a pshawing motion.

"I say this project is all about Sam. I won't lie. I wanna be the one in there, with him. I happen to love the guy, words which can and will be beaten out of your memories should they be repeated. But whatever I want means zippo-zilcho-zero. Banner, you're going in there just as soon as there's a there to go into. Ziggy can tell us at least when Sam can be scanned again. I trust Doctors Fuller and Collins are still working on a means to clean up Sam's Kaka DNA."

Sammy Jo nodded.

"Jolene and I just have to add to Doctor Banner's modifications to the hand-link. Once he and Doctor Beckett are in a reasonably secure location in 1991, we should be able to push them through each other, the mainline DNA acting as a sponge from one individual to the other."

Donna called a halt.

"Wait. We tried this, remember? With Lee Harvey Oswald. That was a disaster. The only thing we ended up doing was making Sam more like Oswald."

Al tried to calm her.

"That's because we tried to fire selected neurons from Oswald we thought belonged to Sam. But he himself told me that you can't do that. It's all or nothing. I think what they're talking about is gonna work. Jolene, how soon on the extra mods for that hand-link?"

Collins held the hand-link while lightly glaring at her hero, David Banner.

"They're already done. Seems someone cribbed our notes. Didn't you trust us, David?"

"It wasn't about that, Jolene. But there is someone out there I owe a lot to. A man who truly changed my life. I can't let myself wait a second longer than I have to in finally paying this debt."

Everyone there of course thought Banner was referring to Sam Beckett. He was not, and the repayment he spoke of was not a positive thing. David looked at Al again.

"There's no problem with my doing this? Speak now, Al, because they just might leap me straight from the chamber."

Al nodded.

"Good idea. It's got the disaster seal, and all. No, Banner. Just get in there soon, good luck, and if this is it, I wish you well. Hey, Zig? When might he be able to talk to Sam?"

"The Hulk, Admiral, is nearly unreadable. All I can 'see' is the spiking gamma radiation in the spot where Doctor Beckett should be. And based on the size of those spikes, I must estimate that Doctor Beckett's mental activity either means he is blissfully unaware of events surrounding him in his transformed state--or that he is a man undergoing the most extraordinary torment."

----

SOMEPLACE ELSE

Sam Beckett was a man undergoing the most extraordinary torment. Through a narrow jagged valley he ran, the cliffs above lined with the jeering, maddened faces of those he had known from his years of leaping, screaming about how he had failed them. But Sam in his heart knew this to be untrue, just as he knew who was likely at the end of that valley. Reaching it, a broken, bloodied Sam pointed at the slick demon dressed in a rough-hewn angel's form.

"Why do you keep appearing as Al? Because you're not fooling me anymore."

The thing with Al's face puffed a cigar, and then smiled.

"Ask Al sometime about how the VC torturers stopped his heart for a full minute before the medics revived him. I'm permitted to appear as anyone who's... Oh, wait. You're never gonna see your pwecious Al ever again, are you?"

Sam found his center, and mentally tuned out the jeering images surrounding them.

"They aren't real."

The images vanished, and the thing frowned briefly.

"No, Sam. They weren't real. However---"

The side of the valley wall exploded into shards of rock. A seven-foot tall figure strode through, very green, and very angry.

"---him? He's for real. He's right in here, with you. I own your friend Banner, and soon I'll own you. It's all the rage, Sam. All the rage. And now I offer you a choice--sign on like I've offered before, or Davey's Goliath rips you into time-share."

Sam was at a loss as the Hulk--or the very real image of the Hulk--growled directly in his face. Pile-driver fists would make short work of a man, or short work of his mind and soul. Yet Sam felt the oddest urge. The urge to laugh. Though vastly exaggerated, the monster was moving in the exact same manner as Sam remembered David moving, when they would argue all those years ago. So Sam stepped even closer to the Hulk, and said simple words.

"Stop it."

The creature growled yet again, even louder this time. But Sam was not put off.

"I said stop it. I'm not afraid of you. I never have been."

The demonic phony Al laughed out loud.

"This isn't one of those deals, Beckett. My boy can kill you whether you're afraid or not."

Sam looked away from the still-growling Hulk and at the taunter.

"He's not your boy. You don't own me, and you've never once owned David. Because the Hulk is not a killer."

Sam looked back at the monster.

"You can stop growling. Here, in this place, I can be as strong as you. But you don't need to worry. Because I won't hurt you. I'm your friend."

The Hulk stopped growling, and looked at Sam confusedly but gently. The demonic Al threw down his phony hand-link and yelled.

"You green moron! Tear this idiot limb from bloody limb! NOW!"

Sam and the Hulk turned and looked at the now-frazzled image. Sam asked the Hulk a question.

"Could you be a pal and send this poor frustrated office-seeker back to his home in the places where the sun don't shine?"

The Hulk muttered in apparent confusion. So Sam just pointed down.

"Yeah. Down There."

The thing screamed as the Hulk body-slammed him into the ground at full-force, perhaps even down to the place of evil spirits where the sun has never shined. Sam offered his hand.

"You're alright, pal."

But the Hulk didn't take it. It only grabbed the fallen angel's hand-link and gave it to Sam. It looked woozy as it faded, so Sam asked the creature another question.

"What is it you want?"

The Hulk then did something it had never done, even in David Banner's dreams and nightmares. It spoke a single word.

"Tired."

Sam watched the creature fade entirely, then struck the keys on the hand-link. A doorway appeared. An older man waited there. He was Asian, blind and impossibly serene. Sam gasped.

"Li Sung--Sensei?"

Though the old man had never been overly fond of riddles, he now spoke in one.

"Two brothers long estranged meet anew. Their worlds clash. After a battle and a feud of wills, the fearless one surrenders his fearlessness, though not his courage, and the fearful one surrenders his fear, though not the wisdom it has taught him. Two powers are given up, and one is lost forever. The two brothers find two keys, and gifts precious and terrible are exchanged. Do you understand?"

"I think that I almost do, Master."

Li Sung smiled.

"I was wondering when you would wake up."

----

AUGUST, 1991

Jack McGee held up a cup of coffee.

"I was wondering when you would wake up."

Sam felt the wood floor of a cabin as he sat up and drank some of the coffee. McGee joked.

"Don't worry, Doctor Banner. It's DeCaf. I've learned that much."

Except how to drive sanely, Sam thought but did not say.

"Mister McGee, where am I?"

Jack sat down, seeming very happy indeed.

"A small cabin I rented out here. Kind of a staging ground for that government waste story I was originally after. But not anymore. What do you think of Michael Landon?"

"Huh?"

"Michael Landon. For the TV-Movie they'll make about us. I think he could capture you perfectly. As for the Hulk--wellll, Arnold used that CGI technology in the recent Terminator film, but that's still very expensive."

Sam's jaw dropped. The man was already casting a TV-Movie about this situation. And he wasn't done.

"As for myself, hell--Dustin Hoffman has done reporters before. Wait–he doesn't do TV Movies. Heyyyy—a feature film!"

"Jack--how did I get here?"

"Oh, that. Well, you--as The Hulk--spent several hours beating up on one of those giant standing stones that Native Americans claim hold demons. The way you were howling, it sure sounded like you were fighting with the devil himself. I waited until you calmed down, then picked you up and drove you here. Your recent injuries seem to have healed up nicely, though."

Before Sam could let go with a very barbed rejoinder about lunatic drivers, the doorway to the imaging chamber opened. But the man with the hand-link was not Al Calavicci.

"Sam, what do you say we give this 'nozzle' an interview he'll never forget?"

While Sam Beckett was glad to see his old friend--or anyone at the Project--again, he couldn't help but wonder at the tone he heard barely disguised in David Banner's words. He would not have long to wonder, and what he found out, he would not like one bit.