Al Calavicci was, in fact, standing before a door leading to the
Waiting Room of Project Quantum Leap. He was waiting, rather impatiently,
for Dr. Verbeena Beeks to give him the sign that a new consciousness had
arrived. Al dreaded the first moments as the people realized they were in
an unfamiliar place, in what seemed to be an unfamiliar body. They
invariably screamed in terror. That scream, more than Verbeena, told Al
that a new consciousness, or soul, had taken up temporary residence. He
had braced himself for the shock of the scream. He was not, however,
prepared for Verbeena's emergence from the silent Waiting Room.
"What? What's wrong?" he demanded.
"The first person not to go into hysterics at the shock and you want to know what's wrong."
"Dammit, Verbeena, you know that's exactly what I mean. They always scream. Why didn't this one?" A sudden hope flared within him. "Is it Sam?"
Verbeena looked sad. "No. But, Al, you need to come in now. He wants to speak to the person in charge. He's very rational about the situation--I'd almost say pleased."
"Pleased? Anything else I should know?"
"He says his name is Data," said Verbeena.
"Data? Is that a nickname? Data what?" asked Al.
"He didn't say, and I didn't want to push. He wanted to know where he was and why he wasn't aboard his ship. He wanted to speak to whoever was in charge. He must be military, Al. Anyway, he got distracted by the mirror. Al, I've never seen anyone react so calmly to seeing Sam's reflection. Since he sounded military I told him that I'd get you, and that you were an admiral." Verbeena looked towards the door. "I want you to talk to him now."
Al nodded and walked into the Waiting Room--and promptly took a step back. The neurolink Ziggy facilitated between him and Sam allowed him to see the person in Sam's body--and Sam in whatever body he was in. Al had seen many people inside his friend's body, but never any as shocking as this. The familiar body shielded a brown-haired man with unnatural gold- white skin and yellow eyes! For diplomacy's sake, Al forced himself to focus solely on the exterior of Sam Beckett's body, which was presently engaged in running its fingers through the sandy brown hair with the single lock of white hair, and grinning excitedly.
Al walked forward and caught the visitor's eyes in the mirror. Sam's body turned to greet him. Unlike most visitors, this one did not react at Al's attire, which tended toward the unconventional. Currently, Al was wearing a multi-colored earthy shirt with rusty pants. A rust-colored jacket with geometrically cut lapels and a shimmery copper tie completed the ensemble.
Remembering Verbeena's remarks about the military, Al strode forward to introduce himself. He offered his hand to lessen the formality. "Hello. I'm Admiral Calavicci. Dr. Beeks says you'd like to speak with me."
The visitor took Al's hand, eyes widening at the contact. "Lieutenant Commander Data. Admiral Calavicci, where am I? And how did I come to be in this body?"
Al glanced at Verbeena. In the pause Data asked, "If I may sir. I hope I do not offend, but I have no record of an Admiral Calavicci currently serving. . ."
"Well, I'm retired," Al interrupted with a smile.
Data paused, as if absorbing this new information. He cocked his head to the side. "I have no record of an Admiral Calavicci having ever served in Starfleet," he said.
The smile on Al's face faded. "Starfleet?" He looked at Verbeena again. "Oh, boy," he sighed.
Verbeena picked up the conversational ball. "Okay, Mr. Data. Let's see if we can't find some answers for you. What is the last thing you remember?"
Data's face grew thoughtful. "I was sitting at the aft science station. Captain Picard had asked me to scan the Zyros system." He stopped speaking as he registered Al and Verbeena's expressions.
Verbeena hurried to cover their surprise. "And then what happened?" she prompted.
"And then I found myself here. Is this a medical base, Dr. Beeks?"
"So to speak," she evaded. She paused, unsure as to which avenue of conversation to follow.
"I think we can drop all this formality and go with first names," said Al, trying to avoid the awkward silence. "I'm Al and this is Verbeena."
"I am Data."
Al blinked. Only one name? He tried another tack. "Okay, Data, maybe you could tell me about your ship. Her name and registry, you know." At Data's silence he added, "Maybe we can figure out how to get you back there."
It seemed to be the right thing to say. Data at least did not take it as a form of espionage, perhaps in concession that they shared a common goal. He answered, "U.S.S. Enterprise, Galaxy-class starship, NCC-1701-D."
"Oh, God." Al paled. Either the man was totally insane, which was unlikely, considering his "real" appearance, or. . . or Sam had Leaped far beyond his own lifetime. His reaction did not go unnoticed by Data.
"Al?"
"Yeah?" He was still in shock. Verbeena was not much better.
"What year is this?"
Al looked at Verbeena, who closed her eyes and nodded.
"Data, what year is it for you?" asked Al.
"2335," he answered.
Al took a deep breath. "Data, I don't know how, but you're in the year 1998."
The fact that the hitherto unflappable Data seemed equally as shocked was no consolation.
******
Al barreled into the Control Room. "Ziggy! How the hell did Sam end up in 2335?" he yelled.
The computer's voice was tinged with puzzlement (one of Sam's ideas). "I am as confused as you, Admiral."
"Apparently he's on a spaceship!" continued Al.
"Actually, the term used was 'starship,'" corrected Ziggy.
"Who cares!" ranted Al. He was waving his arms wildly, as was his wont when he was frustrated. "He's in space for crying out loud. He's Leaped way beyond his own lifespan, and he's not even on the same damn planet! Where the hell is Zyros anyway?"
Ziggy sounded contrite. "Our scientists haven't discovered it yet."
"Oh, great. How are we supposed to find him?" Al shouted.
"I am currently working on that, Admiral."
Al threw up his arms, knowing there was nothing he could do. He turned to leave, pausing when he noticed Gooshie waving at him. He walked over to the short man.
"What is it, Gooshie?" he asked.
"Verbeena just called. She wants you back in the Waiting Room," said Gooshie.
"Tell her I'm on my way."
Al walked down the hall, pulling a cigar from his jacket pocket. He cut and lit it. The first pull calmed him, a little. He rapped sharply on the Waiting Room door. Verbeena pulled it open. Being an African- American, she wasn't able to pale, but the shock showed through her eyes clearly enough for anyone to see. Al lowered his cigar. "What is it?" He looked past her to see Sam's body staring into the mirror.
"What's wrong?" he repeated.
Verbeena stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her. "You're not going to believe this, Al," she said.
"I already don't believe this! What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." Although, thought Al, his "real" appearance is pretty ghostly. Fortunately for Verbeena, she lacked the dual vision of Al's link to Sam. He shuddered to think of her reaction then.
"Al, he's not human," Verbeena was saying.
"What?"
"Al, he says he's an android."
"You mean he's a machine? Ohmigod--Sam!"
Al took off for the Control Room at a dead run.
******
"What? What's wrong?" he demanded.
"The first person not to go into hysterics at the shock and you want to know what's wrong."
"Dammit, Verbeena, you know that's exactly what I mean. They always scream. Why didn't this one?" A sudden hope flared within him. "Is it Sam?"
Verbeena looked sad. "No. But, Al, you need to come in now. He wants to speak to the person in charge. He's very rational about the situation--I'd almost say pleased."
"Pleased? Anything else I should know?"
"He says his name is Data," said Verbeena.
"Data? Is that a nickname? Data what?" asked Al.
"He didn't say, and I didn't want to push. He wanted to know where he was and why he wasn't aboard his ship. He wanted to speak to whoever was in charge. He must be military, Al. Anyway, he got distracted by the mirror. Al, I've never seen anyone react so calmly to seeing Sam's reflection. Since he sounded military I told him that I'd get you, and that you were an admiral." Verbeena looked towards the door. "I want you to talk to him now."
Al nodded and walked into the Waiting Room--and promptly took a step back. The neurolink Ziggy facilitated between him and Sam allowed him to see the person in Sam's body--and Sam in whatever body he was in. Al had seen many people inside his friend's body, but never any as shocking as this. The familiar body shielded a brown-haired man with unnatural gold- white skin and yellow eyes! For diplomacy's sake, Al forced himself to focus solely on the exterior of Sam Beckett's body, which was presently engaged in running its fingers through the sandy brown hair with the single lock of white hair, and grinning excitedly.
Al walked forward and caught the visitor's eyes in the mirror. Sam's body turned to greet him. Unlike most visitors, this one did not react at Al's attire, which tended toward the unconventional. Currently, Al was wearing a multi-colored earthy shirt with rusty pants. A rust-colored jacket with geometrically cut lapels and a shimmery copper tie completed the ensemble.
Remembering Verbeena's remarks about the military, Al strode forward to introduce himself. He offered his hand to lessen the formality. "Hello. I'm Admiral Calavicci. Dr. Beeks says you'd like to speak with me."
The visitor took Al's hand, eyes widening at the contact. "Lieutenant Commander Data. Admiral Calavicci, where am I? And how did I come to be in this body?"
Al glanced at Verbeena. In the pause Data asked, "If I may sir. I hope I do not offend, but I have no record of an Admiral Calavicci currently serving. . ."
"Well, I'm retired," Al interrupted with a smile.
Data paused, as if absorbing this new information. He cocked his head to the side. "I have no record of an Admiral Calavicci having ever served in Starfleet," he said.
The smile on Al's face faded. "Starfleet?" He looked at Verbeena again. "Oh, boy," he sighed.
Verbeena picked up the conversational ball. "Okay, Mr. Data. Let's see if we can't find some answers for you. What is the last thing you remember?"
Data's face grew thoughtful. "I was sitting at the aft science station. Captain Picard had asked me to scan the Zyros system." He stopped speaking as he registered Al and Verbeena's expressions.
Verbeena hurried to cover their surprise. "And then what happened?" she prompted.
"And then I found myself here. Is this a medical base, Dr. Beeks?"
"So to speak," she evaded. She paused, unsure as to which avenue of conversation to follow.
"I think we can drop all this formality and go with first names," said Al, trying to avoid the awkward silence. "I'm Al and this is Verbeena."
"I am Data."
Al blinked. Only one name? He tried another tack. "Okay, Data, maybe you could tell me about your ship. Her name and registry, you know." At Data's silence he added, "Maybe we can figure out how to get you back there."
It seemed to be the right thing to say. Data at least did not take it as a form of espionage, perhaps in concession that they shared a common goal. He answered, "U.S.S. Enterprise, Galaxy-class starship, NCC-1701-D."
"Oh, God." Al paled. Either the man was totally insane, which was unlikely, considering his "real" appearance, or. . . or Sam had Leaped far beyond his own lifetime. His reaction did not go unnoticed by Data.
"Al?"
"Yeah?" He was still in shock. Verbeena was not much better.
"What year is this?"
Al looked at Verbeena, who closed her eyes and nodded.
"Data, what year is it for you?" asked Al.
"2335," he answered.
Al took a deep breath. "Data, I don't know how, but you're in the year 1998."
The fact that the hitherto unflappable Data seemed equally as shocked was no consolation.
******
Al barreled into the Control Room. "Ziggy! How the hell did Sam end up in 2335?" he yelled.
The computer's voice was tinged with puzzlement (one of Sam's ideas). "I am as confused as you, Admiral."
"Apparently he's on a spaceship!" continued Al.
"Actually, the term used was 'starship,'" corrected Ziggy.
"Who cares!" ranted Al. He was waving his arms wildly, as was his wont when he was frustrated. "He's in space for crying out loud. He's Leaped way beyond his own lifespan, and he's not even on the same damn planet! Where the hell is Zyros anyway?"
Ziggy sounded contrite. "Our scientists haven't discovered it yet."
"Oh, great. How are we supposed to find him?" Al shouted.
"I am currently working on that, Admiral."
Al threw up his arms, knowing there was nothing he could do. He turned to leave, pausing when he noticed Gooshie waving at him. He walked over to the short man.
"What is it, Gooshie?" he asked.
"Verbeena just called. She wants you back in the Waiting Room," said Gooshie.
"Tell her I'm on my way."
Al walked down the hall, pulling a cigar from his jacket pocket. He cut and lit it. The first pull calmed him, a little. He rapped sharply on the Waiting Room door. Verbeena pulled it open. Being an African- American, she wasn't able to pale, but the shock showed through her eyes clearly enough for anyone to see. Al lowered his cigar. "What is it?" He looked past her to see Sam's body staring into the mirror.
"What's wrong?" he repeated.
Verbeena stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her. "You're not going to believe this, Al," she said.
"I already don't believe this! What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." Although, thought Al, his "real" appearance is pretty ghostly. Fortunately for Verbeena, she lacked the dual vision of Al's link to Sam. He shuddered to think of her reaction then.
"Al, he's not human," Verbeena was saying.
"What?"
"Al, he says he's an android."
"You mean he's a machine? Ohmigod--Sam!"
Al took off for the Control Room at a dead run.
******
