ACT VI
Sam was so stunned he almost forgot the pain in his side. His mind worked crazily for a few long seconds, trying to find something to say, but nothing seemed right except what finally emerged from his mouth. "WHY????"
Al shook his head helplessly. "Only Colleen can tell you that. But Sam, that newspaper article changes a lot about this Leap. Ziggy says there's a ninety-eight-percent chance that this is what you gotta do to Leap."
"Yeah, okay, but what exactly do I have to do?" Sam persisted.
Al consulted the handlink. "The article appears in the morning newspaper. It says that Colleen Becker was found in the town park around five o'clock Saturday morning, October 27, by a jogger and his dog. She was barely alive, Sam. She'd been raped, and her own panty hose had been tied around her neck, like the rapist was trying to strangle her to death. She woke up in the ambulance and said two words. 'Cord Ericson.' The article says the police brought him in for questioning, but he wasn't admitting to anything."
Sam gingerly feathered a finger over the spot where Cord's fist had connected with his ribs. "There has to be more to it than that. You can't tell me that's all Ziggy found. What else is there?"
Al's face was a study in fury and hatred, and he was glaring at the back of Cord Ericson's jersey as Cord fought his way toward the end zone. "Colleen had lost all her will to live. Nobody could get her to talk: not the police, not Nick, not her parents. I told you she was a mouse, Sam - she thought she deserved it, somehow. She refused to testify, and within a month she'd died."
Sam cursed softly, as much from the pain in his side as at Al's revelations. "What happened to Cord?"
"He was tried for rape and murder, but the jury decided there wasn't enough evidence and let him off scot-free. So Colleen's dead, and Cord's roaming the planet probably boasting how he got away with murder. Just like another former football player we've all heard of." Al scowled. "Stop him, Sam."
Sam scowled right back at him. "Easy for you to say. 'Stop him, Sam.' First of all, I have to stay here on this bench till the game's over. Second of all, there are hundreds of people here, and I have absolutely no idea where Colleen's sitting. Third of all, you might keep in mind that Mr. Star Player out there tried to cave in some of my - well, Nick's ribs, and it HURTS. If they're not broken I'm sure they're at least cracked. I can barely even breathe without it hurting, Al. Believe me, I'd love to stop that jerk from getting his hands on Colleen. But I need to overcome all these obstacles, and I'm gonna need your help." He drew in a long breath, winced and let it out very slowly. "And what other former football player are you talking about, anyway?"
Al started to speak, then caught himself and stared at Sam. "Well, never mind that. That's ten years from now. Maybe I'll tell you all about it someday." He seemed to shake himself and cleared his throat. "Like I said, never mind that now."
Sam was staring onto the field now, his eyes unfocused. "How did it get to this?" he murmured, half to himself. "What happened?"
"You changed history, Sam," Al said. "When you saved Charlie Mason from being permanently wheelchair-bound, you changed the ensuing events, see. Remember I told you there was originally supposed to be another initiation? After Charlie's got screwed up and you told off Cord, the other guys in the gang were impressed enough that they all backed out of the next one, the one that was gonna be tonight. Cord's apparently had them under his thumb since they started school together, and nobody had the courage to stand up to him, till you came along. That's why Cord's so P.O.'d at you, and he plans to pay you back in the worst way he can think of." Al peered at the handlink, which had started chirping at him, and shook his head. "Man oh man, Sam, you really got Nick and Colleen into deep ca-ca. Cord was so P.O.'d he decided to make Colleen pay as well as Nick."
"But Colleen's innocent," Sam protested, outraged. By now a couple of the other boys on the bench were watching him talking seemingly to the air, and Al noticed.
"Pipe down, Sam, you got an audience," he said, and Sam turned to stare at the two who were gawking at him. He smiled faintly.
"My side," he said weakly. "It's making me see things."
"Wow, that other guy musta hit you in the head too," remarked one of the other players and grinned. "You're supposed to go to the locker room when you get hit hard enough to be taken outta the game, Becker, or didja forget that?"
"Perfect," said Al. "Come on, Sam, let's go."
Slowly Sam got up and began to head for the locker room. Once he was actually on his feet, it wasn't so bad, and he got there just after Maple Crossing scored a touchdown, sending up a jubilant roar from the bleachers. Sam paused long enough to scan the stands for Colleen, but couldn't see her anywhere. At that point a buzzer sounded and Al waved his arms frantically to get Sam's attention.
"Two-minute warning, Sam," Al shouted. "We don't have much time!"
Sam loped into the locker room, found the bench in front of Nick's locker and settled his battered body onto it with the greatest possible care. Once seated, he released his breath in a fevered whoosh. "Colleen's innocent," he picked up the thread of their discussion. "So why's Cord after her?"
"Cord and Nick were best friends ever since childhood," Al explained. "They stuck by each other through thick and thin. All for one, one for all . . . you know. Cord was always the more aggressive one, though, and Nick usually just went right along with whatever he suggested. As they got older, Cord got into more and more dangerous things, and Nick never tried to stop him. Sometimes he'd refuse to go into things with Cord, but no more than that. Cord got away with everything, and that's why he's such a monster now. So obviously, he sees this as a betrayal on Nick's part, and he's gonna get as much revenge as he can."
"Where'd you find out all this?" Sam demanded, amazed at how much Al seemed to know.
Al actually looked embarrassed. "Uh, well . . . Nick started seeing a psychiatrist after Colleen's death, and Ziggy broke into the records." Sam's expression grew stern, and Al held up both hands, one of which still clutched the colorfully pulsing handlink. "Sam, it's for a good cause. You know Ziggy would never hack into any other computer without a really good reason. Hell, YOU programmed her ethical sense, you oughta know!"
Sam sighed deeply, wincing again at the pain it cost him, and ever-so- carefully leaned back against the lockers behind him. "Okay, okay. Well, we've established the backstory here, so at least I know what's going to happen and why. Now what I need to know is how to stop it."
Al glanced at the handlink. "We have a little less than a minute left, game time," he said. "Might give us as much as five minutes real time. When the team comes back in here, Sam, see if you can get Cord to tell you what he's planning. He'll probably talk, since he thinks he's put Nick out of commission enough to keep him from stopping it. Play it up and make the injury look even worse than it is, that'll up the chances of getting something we can use. Once you find out what you need to know, get out to Nick's car and try to follow Cord and Colleen. I'll be with you all the way, Sam, okay?"
The plan sounded too easy; Sam knew something was going to go wrong. Al would probably have said he was a pessimist for thinking that way, but the scientist in him was constantly calculating odds. And he'd been Leaping long enough by now that he'd learned to expect things to go wrong when it was the most inconvenient. "So Al . . . you really think I can stop Cord from raping and trying to strangle Colleen, all by myself, with these either-broken-or-cracked ribs?"
Al stared at him. "You have to, Sam. It's Colleen's only chance."
Sam rolled his eyes. Where had he heard that line before? It sounded like something out of a bad movie in which the hero overcame everything under the sun, including permanent and total paralysis, to miraculously save the fair damsel in distress. "Al, I hate to tell you this, but I'm not Superman. And I'm getting really tired of being someone's 'only chance'. Just once, I'd like to have some help on a Leap - that is, some help that can physically help me!"
"Not my fault I'm a hologram," Al said innocently. The handlink squawked, and he squinted at it. "Uh-oh, game's over. I can't do much about getting you some physical help, Sam, but at least I can give you moral support. Good luck - I'll be waiting next to Nick's car." And he popped out, like something out of an old TV series Sam remembered from his childhood. Something about a witch who could . . .
The thunder of the team stampeding into the locker room drowned out Sam's thoughts, and he tried again to concentrate on his breathing. It wasn't hard to look pained; his side ached like nobody's business. This had to work, odds of failure be damned: he simply couldn't let an innocent girl take the brunt of Cord's self-appointed punishment.
Sam was so stunned he almost forgot the pain in his side. His mind worked crazily for a few long seconds, trying to find something to say, but nothing seemed right except what finally emerged from his mouth. "WHY????"
Al shook his head helplessly. "Only Colleen can tell you that. But Sam, that newspaper article changes a lot about this Leap. Ziggy says there's a ninety-eight-percent chance that this is what you gotta do to Leap."
"Yeah, okay, but what exactly do I have to do?" Sam persisted.
Al consulted the handlink. "The article appears in the morning newspaper. It says that Colleen Becker was found in the town park around five o'clock Saturday morning, October 27, by a jogger and his dog. She was barely alive, Sam. She'd been raped, and her own panty hose had been tied around her neck, like the rapist was trying to strangle her to death. She woke up in the ambulance and said two words. 'Cord Ericson.' The article says the police brought him in for questioning, but he wasn't admitting to anything."
Sam gingerly feathered a finger over the spot where Cord's fist had connected with his ribs. "There has to be more to it than that. You can't tell me that's all Ziggy found. What else is there?"
Al's face was a study in fury and hatred, and he was glaring at the back of Cord Ericson's jersey as Cord fought his way toward the end zone. "Colleen had lost all her will to live. Nobody could get her to talk: not the police, not Nick, not her parents. I told you she was a mouse, Sam - she thought she deserved it, somehow. She refused to testify, and within a month she'd died."
Sam cursed softly, as much from the pain in his side as at Al's revelations. "What happened to Cord?"
"He was tried for rape and murder, but the jury decided there wasn't enough evidence and let him off scot-free. So Colleen's dead, and Cord's roaming the planet probably boasting how he got away with murder. Just like another former football player we've all heard of." Al scowled. "Stop him, Sam."
Sam scowled right back at him. "Easy for you to say. 'Stop him, Sam.' First of all, I have to stay here on this bench till the game's over. Second of all, there are hundreds of people here, and I have absolutely no idea where Colleen's sitting. Third of all, you might keep in mind that Mr. Star Player out there tried to cave in some of my - well, Nick's ribs, and it HURTS. If they're not broken I'm sure they're at least cracked. I can barely even breathe without it hurting, Al. Believe me, I'd love to stop that jerk from getting his hands on Colleen. But I need to overcome all these obstacles, and I'm gonna need your help." He drew in a long breath, winced and let it out very slowly. "And what other former football player are you talking about, anyway?"
Al started to speak, then caught himself and stared at Sam. "Well, never mind that. That's ten years from now. Maybe I'll tell you all about it someday." He seemed to shake himself and cleared his throat. "Like I said, never mind that now."
Sam was staring onto the field now, his eyes unfocused. "How did it get to this?" he murmured, half to himself. "What happened?"
"You changed history, Sam," Al said. "When you saved Charlie Mason from being permanently wheelchair-bound, you changed the ensuing events, see. Remember I told you there was originally supposed to be another initiation? After Charlie's got screwed up and you told off Cord, the other guys in the gang were impressed enough that they all backed out of the next one, the one that was gonna be tonight. Cord's apparently had them under his thumb since they started school together, and nobody had the courage to stand up to him, till you came along. That's why Cord's so P.O.'d at you, and he plans to pay you back in the worst way he can think of." Al peered at the handlink, which had started chirping at him, and shook his head. "Man oh man, Sam, you really got Nick and Colleen into deep ca-ca. Cord was so P.O.'d he decided to make Colleen pay as well as Nick."
"But Colleen's innocent," Sam protested, outraged. By now a couple of the other boys on the bench were watching him talking seemingly to the air, and Al noticed.
"Pipe down, Sam, you got an audience," he said, and Sam turned to stare at the two who were gawking at him. He smiled faintly.
"My side," he said weakly. "It's making me see things."
"Wow, that other guy musta hit you in the head too," remarked one of the other players and grinned. "You're supposed to go to the locker room when you get hit hard enough to be taken outta the game, Becker, or didja forget that?"
"Perfect," said Al. "Come on, Sam, let's go."
Slowly Sam got up and began to head for the locker room. Once he was actually on his feet, it wasn't so bad, and he got there just after Maple Crossing scored a touchdown, sending up a jubilant roar from the bleachers. Sam paused long enough to scan the stands for Colleen, but couldn't see her anywhere. At that point a buzzer sounded and Al waved his arms frantically to get Sam's attention.
"Two-minute warning, Sam," Al shouted. "We don't have much time!"
Sam loped into the locker room, found the bench in front of Nick's locker and settled his battered body onto it with the greatest possible care. Once seated, he released his breath in a fevered whoosh. "Colleen's innocent," he picked up the thread of their discussion. "So why's Cord after her?"
"Cord and Nick were best friends ever since childhood," Al explained. "They stuck by each other through thick and thin. All for one, one for all . . . you know. Cord was always the more aggressive one, though, and Nick usually just went right along with whatever he suggested. As they got older, Cord got into more and more dangerous things, and Nick never tried to stop him. Sometimes he'd refuse to go into things with Cord, but no more than that. Cord got away with everything, and that's why he's such a monster now. So obviously, he sees this as a betrayal on Nick's part, and he's gonna get as much revenge as he can."
"Where'd you find out all this?" Sam demanded, amazed at how much Al seemed to know.
Al actually looked embarrassed. "Uh, well . . . Nick started seeing a psychiatrist after Colleen's death, and Ziggy broke into the records." Sam's expression grew stern, and Al held up both hands, one of which still clutched the colorfully pulsing handlink. "Sam, it's for a good cause. You know Ziggy would never hack into any other computer without a really good reason. Hell, YOU programmed her ethical sense, you oughta know!"
Sam sighed deeply, wincing again at the pain it cost him, and ever-so- carefully leaned back against the lockers behind him. "Okay, okay. Well, we've established the backstory here, so at least I know what's going to happen and why. Now what I need to know is how to stop it."
Al glanced at the handlink. "We have a little less than a minute left, game time," he said. "Might give us as much as five minutes real time. When the team comes back in here, Sam, see if you can get Cord to tell you what he's planning. He'll probably talk, since he thinks he's put Nick out of commission enough to keep him from stopping it. Play it up and make the injury look even worse than it is, that'll up the chances of getting something we can use. Once you find out what you need to know, get out to Nick's car and try to follow Cord and Colleen. I'll be with you all the way, Sam, okay?"
The plan sounded too easy; Sam knew something was going to go wrong. Al would probably have said he was a pessimist for thinking that way, but the scientist in him was constantly calculating odds. And he'd been Leaping long enough by now that he'd learned to expect things to go wrong when it was the most inconvenient. "So Al . . . you really think I can stop Cord from raping and trying to strangle Colleen, all by myself, with these either-broken-or-cracked ribs?"
Al stared at him. "You have to, Sam. It's Colleen's only chance."
Sam rolled his eyes. Where had he heard that line before? It sounded like something out of a bad movie in which the hero overcame everything under the sun, including permanent and total paralysis, to miraculously save the fair damsel in distress. "Al, I hate to tell you this, but I'm not Superman. And I'm getting really tired of being someone's 'only chance'. Just once, I'd like to have some help on a Leap - that is, some help that can physically help me!"
"Not my fault I'm a hologram," Al said innocently. The handlink squawked, and he squinted at it. "Uh-oh, game's over. I can't do much about getting you some physical help, Sam, but at least I can give you moral support. Good luck - I'll be waiting next to Nick's car." And he popped out, like something out of an old TV series Sam remembered from his childhood. Something about a witch who could . . .
The thunder of the team stampeding into the locker room drowned out Sam's thoughts, and he tried again to concentrate on his breathing. It wasn't hard to look pained; his side ached like nobody's business. This had to work, odds of failure be damned: he simply couldn't let an innocent girl take the brunt of Cord's self-appointed punishment.