Data sat in front of the mirror in the Waiting Room. He had tried to get Dr. Beeks to explain his exact location and circumstances, to no avail. For the past half-hour, no one had entered the room. The situation in which he found himself was truly unique. If he looked down, he saw the same physical characteristics he always saw. When he looked in the mirror, though, he saw an ordinary human being. With what he knew of human aesthetics, Data decided that the reflection would definitely be considered handsome. The solution to the puzzle of this dual vision eluded him, despite his efforts to devote the major part of his positronic brain to deciphering the mystery. Data had seen many strange things in his travels through the galaxy, but in all his travels, he'd always seen himself when he looked in the mirror. He had no idea who the strange face belonged to, and he could get no satisfactory answer from Dr. Beeks. He had just begun cycling over his theories again when the door opened. Data turned to see Al Calavicci walk in.
"Hello, Al," greeted Data.
Al smiled and waved. He seemed uncertain as to what action he should take next, biting his lower lip. Always eager to help, Data asked, "Is there anything I can assist you with?"
Al scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. "Actually, there is," he said. "First, I need to know what Verbeena has told you about your situation."
"Nothing," Data answered. "She seems unwilling to impart any information."
Al cast a sharp glance at the door. "I kinda figured that would be the case. Now when we have people from the past I can understand that, but what can you possibly change? You deserve to know the basics of your situation." He fixed Data with a serious gaze. "Okay, you know you're in the past. You're probably wondering how you got here." At Data's nod he continued, "You've gotten caught up in a time-travel experiment that went a little ca-ca."
Data looked confused. "Ca-ca?" he repeated. He searched his memory banks. "Oh! Ca-ca, as in awry, amiss, wrong, messed-up. . . ."
"I think you've got the basic idea," interrupted Al. "The experiment was for an Observer to Quantum Leap back in time to see history in a more accurate way than research. But something went wrong, and instead of Observing, he's been Leaping into the lives of others. When he arrives, they find themselves here, like you did. When he Leaps out, you'll be returned to your own time and place."
"Al, why is he Leaping into lives if he was supposed to be Observing?"
"Data, if I had an answer for that you wouldn't be here," Al smiled wryly.
"I still do not understand how I see a reflection different from my own," Data said.
"As far as we can tell, it's a resonant aura of the person whose place is taken. You're seeing Sam Beckett when you look in the mirror, and he's seeing you. Don't ask me how it works, because I really don't know. I can see you for who you really are because I'm linked to Sam. But others here who see you will see Sam Beckett. It's the same for Sam on your ship." Al paused. "I don't think I should tell you any more."
"I understand," Data said. "We have had similar occasions on the Enterprise when we have inadvertently brought other species on board. We were quite limited in what information we could furnish them with." He smiled faintly at Al. "So when Sam Leaps out, I will reappear on the Enterprise?"
Al nodded. "But for him to be able to Leap out, I need you to tell me exactly what your mission was, and what your scans revealed before Sam Leaped in."
"Of course," Data replied. "We received transmissions from Zyros IV three standard weeks ago. Starfleet ordered us to make preliminary scans to determine the possibility of establishing first contact with the inhabitants. I was performing the last of my scans before our briefing when I found myself here."
"Do you remember what the results of those scans were?" asked Al.
"I remember every fact I am exposed to," answered Data. "The scans did not turn up any life-forms in the traditional sense of the word. Subsequent scans revealed that the planet consisted of 95.7 percent technological forms, seventy-five percent of which were capable of free movement, making Zyros IV a machine planet. This discovery comes as a remarkable and important one for the Federation, since only three other known planets are populated by machines alone. Their desire to make contact indicates their willingness to work with other intelligent life- forms. I was going to recommend that first contact be initiated with an Away Team, pursuant to the captain's and Starfleet's approval." Data lowered his eyes briefly. "Forgive me, I tend to babble."
"No, not at all," said Al. "Every bit of that was vital." He looked toward the ceiling. "Get all that, Ziggy?"
The computer's voice drifted down. "Of course, Admiral. I'm running it through my processors as we speak. I will transmit a copy of this directly to the handlink so that you'll be able to direct Dr. Beckett through it."
"Thanks, Zig, you're a peach," said Al. "Any luck with the projection scenarios?"
Ziggy sounded peeved. "It's quite difficult to project through a timeline that is over three hundred years long. I may be a powerful computer, but I'm not a psychic."
"Oh, and here I was ready to start my own 900 number for you," Al said.
Data's eyes widened. "That is a computer?" he asked. Al nodded as Ziggy answered affirmatively. "Perhaps I can be of added assistance," Data said. "For continuity's sake, I cannot offer any information about the future, but perhaps I could assist Ziggy in running projection scenarios. My positronic brain is capable of handling a series of tasks. If I were made familiar with the scenario program, I would be able to run it without endangering your future."
Al looked up hopefully. "Well, Zig, what do you think?"
Ziggy's voice regained its pleasant tone. "I think you should bring him down to the Control Room right away, Admiral, so we can get started!"

******

Al left Data and Ziggy to sort through the coordination of the scenario program under the supervision of Gooshie and Tina Martinez- O'Farrell, one of the Project's programmers. The fountain of technological babble was more than he was willing to sit through. Signaling to Gooshie, Al left the Control Room and walked into the Imaging Chamber. As he opened the holographic Door, Al braced himself for the change in environment as the Imaging Chamber holographically reproduced Sam's location. Sam was nervously walking down a corridor with Deanna Troi at his side.
"Hi, Sam," Al grinned. "Boy, I wish I were in your shoes right now." He winked at the discomfited Sam. Al followed them as they entered a turbolift.
"Al, it's about time! We're on our way to a briefing about the mission!" Sam tried to ignore Deanna's stare at his one-sided conversation.
Al shook off the sensation of eeriness as Deanna turned in his direction and said, "Hello, Al."
Al waved the hand holding his cigar before her face, narrowing his eyes as he watched for a reaction. "Sam, can she see me?"
"No, she can only sense you. Will you stop worrying about that and help me?"
"Relax, Sam, relax." Al held up the handlink. "Everything you need to say is right here. I've even got Ziggy setting up an audio link to Data through the Imaging Chamber so that he can offer any other information you might need."
Sam's shoulders lost some of their tension. Deanna cast a curious glance on him. "Everything all right?" she asked.
"Yes, Al got the information we need," he answered.
"Good. Now remember," Deanna warned, "don't use any contractions. And try to stay as emotionless as possible." She briefly rested a hand on Sam's shoulder as the turbolift slowed its ascent. "Good luck," she murmured.
The doors opened onto the Observation Lounge and a table full of Starfleet Officers. Sam resisted an urge to smile nervously and headed for the seat Deanna unobtrusively pulled out as she passed. Al followed, taking up a position directly behind Sam's chair. He lifted the handlink for easy access, preparing himself to pull up information at a moment's notice. Please let it behave, Al silently prayed. The handlink had a propensity for becoming erratic at the most inopportune times.
Sam looked around the table. The captain had not yet arrived, the only empty chair at the head of the table must be reserved for him. Fortunately, before they had left Data's quarters, Deanna had ensured that Sam was familiar with name, rank, and position of every person seated around the table. He mentally went over each one in preparation. He had a photographic memory, but the Swiss-cheesing the Leaps produced in his memory made him cautious. The bearded man from the bridge was the First Officer, Commander Will Riker. The large alien being, whose race Sam had learned were known as Klingons, was Lieutenant Worf, Chief of Security. An African-American man whose eyes were covered by a band allowing his blind eyes to see (which reminded Sam of a barrette favored by Tina) was Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge, Chief of Engineering. Finally, a willowy redhead seated at the end of the table was Dr. Beverly Crusher, Chief Medical Officer. The officers were discussing a recent shore leave at a Starbase, and their affection for a game called Paresis' Squares. The informal tone came to an immediate halt when Captain Picard entered the room and took his seat.
"Now, then," began the captain, "we're here to determine what action should be taken regarding the transmissions we received from Zyros IV. Our response will draw directly from Mr. Data's expert scans of the planet." He turned to Sam. "I trust your scans are no longer inconclusive."
Sam straightened self-consciously in his chair. "That is correct," he said, striving to keep his tone as flat as possible. Deanna's expression told him he was overdoing it, so he tried to relax. Behind him he could hear the squeal of the handlink as Al slapped it to keep the information scrolling smoothly.
"Okay, Sam. The audio link from the Imaging Chamber is up and running. Data can hear everything that goes on, and his responses will appear on the handlink," said Al. He began to read off the first piece of information for Sam to repeat.
"The scan appeared inconclusive at first because it did not turn up any life-forms in the traditional sense of the word," Sam repeated. "However, subsequent scans revealed that 95.7 percent of the planet consisted of technological forms."
"Ninety-five point seven?" repeated Riker. "That didn't show up on our earlier scans."
Al slapped the handlink frantically. Sam was saved when Geordi spoke up. "True, but our earlier scans were completed a week ago, before we even arrived here. I've seen the results of Data's scan on the computer, and some of these forms appear to be mimicking natural landscape." LaForge pressed a control on the panel before him, causing a screen on the far wall to light up. The surface of the planet appeared. "From a superficial scan, this appears to be a cliff," he said. He pressed another control. "But, if we increase the magnification and account for electrical echoes, we see that it's really a mass of technology."
"But who would want to create an environment that mimics natural landscape?" Riker pressed.
"I think that's a question for Mr. Data," said Picard. Every head swiveled toward Sam.
"That's your cue," said Al. He lifted the handlink and read, "Seventy-five percent of the technological forms on this planet have proved capable of independent movement." Al paused to allow Sam to repeat his words. "This indicates a strong possibility that Zyros IV is a machine planet."
Worf snorted. "That is preposterous!"
Picard graced Worf with an annoyed glare. "I'm sure Mr. Data has the probability charts to back up his claim."
Al read off the handlink for Sam. "Data says that the probability is ninety-two point three four six that the population of Zyros IV is entirely mechanical. Jeez, between Ziggy and Data I'm getting more numbers than I ever wanted to see!"
The officers seemed satisfied with Data's numbers. Dr. Crusher spoke next. "Do you realize the significance of this discovery for the Federation? Why the xenobiologists will have a field day studying this planet! Imagine! A planet entirely populated by machines, self-aware and intelligent machines."
"Okay, Sam," said Al. "You need to jump in here. Remember, you're the one with the 'expert scans,' okay?" Once again he raised the handlink for the words to direct to Sam.
"Indeed," Sam broke in, "the Federation only knows of three other such planets, and these only through deduction, not actual firsthand experience. The transmissions from Zyros IV indicate a desire to contact other intelligent life." The officers leaned forward expectantly. Sam waited for Al to continue supplying dialogue, but all he heard were muttered oaths as the Italian smacked the belligerent handlink. Sam leaned back uneasily. "Al," he whispered.
"I'm trying, Sam." The handlink squealed loudly. "This stupid thing has gone on the fritz." Al slapped the small machine again. "Ah. . . ah, here we go," he crowed triumphantly as the final slap relit the handlink's colored cubes. "Okay, with the captain's indulgence, you need to recommend that contact be initiated, pending Starfleet's approval."
"With your permission, sir," Sam said. At the captain's nod he continued, "I recommend that we initiate first contact with Zyros IV, pending Starfleet's approval."
"Thank you, Mr. Data," said Picard. He glanced around the table. "Opinions? Objections?" He waited a few seconds. "Very well. Mr. Worf, please transmit a message to Starfleet, including the scans and the records of this briefing. Dismissed."
The officers rose to leave, when Picard spoke again. "A moment please, Mr. Data."
Sam turned back uncertainly as the room emptied. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving you, Sam," said Al. Sam nodded in appreciation. "Yes, sir?" he said.
"Data, is there anything wrong? You haven't been yourself today," said Picard.
"Sir?" Sam said as a delay tactic.
"You guys picking this up?" Al said. He nodded at a response inaudible to Sam. "Okay, Sam," he said, looking down at the handlink. "No matter what he says, ask him if your duties have suffered, and assure him nothing's wrong. Data also says to promise to run a self-diagnostic. . . whatever the heck that's supposed to be."
"Don't evade the question, Data." Picard refused to be sidetracked. "I can't quite put my finger on it, but you seem rather. . . distracted."
"Distracted, sir?" Sam said. "Have my duties suffered?"
"No, not in the least. Still. . ."
"Now," Al prompted.
"Yes, I will run a self-diagnostic, sir," Sam offered.
Picard waved his hand in acknowledgment, "Very good. That's all." Sam turned to go when Picard called out again, "Oh, Mr. Data. I would very much like for you to be a part of the Away Team if Starfleet approves our decision."
"Yes, sir," Sam nodded. He left the Observation Lounge before Picard could call out to him again. "Al, what am I going to do if I'm still here when they go to that planet?"
Al shook his head. "You might not even be here then. Don't beg trouble."
"Well, did you find out what I'm here to do?"
"Uh, no. But Ziggy and Data are working as fast as they can." Al shrugged off Sam's outraged glare. "Well, they're trying to go through 300 years which haven't happened yet. And Data can't let Ziggy in on a lot of it."
Sam opened his mouth when he heard someone calling in the corridor behind him. "Data! Wait up!" Sam turned to see Geordi LaForge jogging to catch up.
"Hey, Data! I thought we were going to Ten-Forward at 1400 hours," said Geordi.
"Remember, Sam. No contractions," said Al.
"Yes, of course. I was," Sam paused to think of a word suitable of Data, "detained by the captain."
"Well, you're free now. C'mon," Geordi pulled Sam toward a turbolift.
"I'm going back to see how the projections are going," Al said. "Relax," he added. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
Sam looked decidedly uneasy as the turbolift doors closed and Al disappeared. It was all he could do not to jump when Geordi clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"So, off the hook for awhile. The ball's in Starfleet's court now."
Sam nodded, unsure of what to say. The opening of the turbolift doors spared him from further conversation. They stepped out to walk to Ten-Forward. Giggles drifted down the corridor toward them, stopping when two kindergartners ran into the two men.
"Hey, slow down," Geordi said.
"Are you all right?" Sam asked.
The children stared at Sam. "Who's that, Mr. LaForge?" one of them asked.
"What do you mean who's that? You know Commander Data."
They shook their heads emphatically. "No, it's not. It's some man," the first one said.
"Yeah, he kinda looks like Al's daddy," agreed the other.
Sam couldn't help staring at that. The children's chaperone ran down the hall, apologizing profusely. Geordi laughed and led the way to Ten- Forward. "Kids have the craziest imaginations," he said.

******