Chapter Six
Al paced in the white sterile room. "Harder than I thought to get started with this . . . " he muttered. He turned and looked at Captain Gregg. "You really are a ghost in you normal state?" he asked him, fascinated.
"Yes, Sir, I am," replied Daniel Gregg, puffing on his cigar. "Something of a SUPER-spirit, actually! But you were going to tell me why I am here."
"So I did!" said Al. He thought for a moment and continued. "Ever watch any television with your family? Comedy shows? Dramas? Science-fiction maybe?"
"Some," Gregg replied truthfully. "Much of it I find rather dull, actually. I did watch the moon landing with Mrs. Muir and the children — which was incredible! But as far as science fiction goes . . . " he paused and frowned. "There was one show . . . Carolyn said they were re-re-something's . . ."
"Re-runs?" Al guessed.
"Yes . . . re-runs," the seaman nodded. "Of a television show called 'Star Trek.' I think Mrs. Muir called that program 'science-fiction.' But what in blazes does a television show have to do with me being here, instead of at Gull Cottage where I belong?" His voice started to rise in volume again.
"Because, buddy-boy." Albert Calavicci said, "When it comes to science-fiction, you have just leaped right into the middle of it." And he handed Captain Gregg a mirror.
The seaman looked into it and the clean-shaven face of Dr. Samuel Beckett stared back at him.
"By the powers!" said Gregg, to stunned to move. "Who is this . . . this peep? And why is he in MY mirror?"
"That, my friend, is Dr. Samuel Beckett." Al grinned, "The founder of Project Quantum Leap."
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Captain Gregg handed Al Calavicci the mirror. "You have my undivided attention, Sir. I will endeavor to understand, if you will explain how this deviltry has come to pass."
"It's not deviltry," Al stated. "It's science. It's just a bit FUBAR'ed at the moment . . ."
"FUBAR'ed," Gregg repeated the slang nautical term, "Fouled up beyond all recognition . . . You're Navy, all right!"
"Yes. Dr. Beckett . . ."
"The man in my mirror . . . " Gregg prompted him.
"Yes. Don't interrupt. Dr. Beckett developed the Quantum Leap Theory with Professor Sebastian LoNigro in the summer of 1973 . . ."
"Three years from now?" said Gregg, skeptically.
"I said don't interrupt!" said Al, lighting his own cigar. "I said he developed the THEORY in 1973. I can't tell you what year Dr. Beckett actually started 'leaping' —that's on the project no-no list. But it works like this:" Al put down his cigar and pulled a piece of twine from the pants-pocket of his uniform and held it up in front of the seaman. "One end of this string represents your birth . . . the other end, your death. You tie the ends together, and your life is a loop. 'Ball the loop, and the days of your life touch each other out of sequence. Therefore 'leaping' from one point on the string to another moves you backward or forward within your own lifetime. That was our project. Time Travel. Project Quantum Leap."
Daniel Gregg looked at the smaller man thoughtfully.
"Questions?" Al asked, and looked at the mariner.
"A few." Captain Gregg replied cautiously.
"Such as?"
Daniel Gregg looked at the white turtleneck body suit he was wearing and growled. "Can I change clothes? I feel undressed in this get-up. Is this what everyone in your time wears?" The seaman sounded almost embarrassed.
"'Fraid not" Al replied. "That's a Fermi-Suit. And it's needed in order to 'leap.' I really can't go into too many details there — it's very scientific, and you wouldn't understand it all anyway. It has to do with beta decay . . . I don't even understand how all of it works. Are you cold or something?" he asked, concerned.
"No . . . just slightly embarrassed at my state of undress." The Captain answered. "It looks like blasted long-underwear to me! At least it's a turtleneck! That, I am used to!"
"Sorry about that," Al said, "Anything else?"
"Yes. What do you use to power this project?" asked the Captain. "I daresay it is not the wind."
"Hardly Captain Gregg." Al grinned. "Dr. Beckett . . . Sam . . . designed Ziggy — a computer with an 'attitude' to run this project. We use atomic power . . . and other kinds, when we have to, just to keep Project Quantum Leap running. It cost 43 billion dollars to develop Sam's project and another 2.4 billion per year to keep it going . . . but we HAVE to. As I said, the experiment went wrong."
"Meaning what, pray-tell?" the Captain asked, another frown growing on Sam's features.
"Sam was supposed to travel through time and OBSERVE it. Instead he has become a PART of it. This time he has 'leaped' into you; Sort of — traded places, if you will. And he will STAY in you until he fixes whatever God, Time or Whoever decides he should fix. Then he will either 'leap' home into his body, that is, the body you are in now, or on to another time and another person. Either way you 'leap' back to 1970. I like to think Sam will 'leap' home."
"But . . . I look at my hand . . . it's MY hand! It's only when I look in the mirror that I see this . . . this Dr. Beckett . . . " Daniel paused. "And besides, I'm not alive!" the Mariner roared. "The man in that mirror can't be more than somewhere in his late 30's! I was born in 1825 and died in 1869! I was not ALIVE in this man's lifetime! How could he have 'leaped,' as you call it, into me?"
Al looked at the seaman. "You see your body because it's part of your 'aura.' I can't explain it much more than that. Sometimes I don't get it all myself. I'm not a scientist — I'm an astronaut. As for the other . . ." he stopped again and looked at Gregg. "You exist as a spirit in 1970," said Al. "But a rather SOLID spirit, if I do say so!"
Daniel Gregg glared at Admiral Calavicci suspiciously. "And what the devil do you mean by that, Sir?"
"I haven't finished yet." Al looked closely at 'Captain Gregg.' "You see, I visit with you here . . . in this 'Waiting Room,' as we call it, and I see my buddy Sam looking back at me, but I know it's NOT Sam. It's Daniel Gregg. But I can also see Daniel Gregg in Maine in 1970. That person looks like Daniel Gregg, but I know that's my buddy Sam. Everyone else at Gull Cottage sees 'Daniel Gregg'. . . except your dog."
"Scruffy? That walking shag-rug?"
"Yes." Al affirmed. "Animals and children under five years of age live in a natural alpha state and are exempt. Scruffy sees Sam."
"You said I was solid . . . " the seaman growled.
Albert Calavicci looked at the mariner. "As I said, with the help of what Dr. Beckett calls an Imaging Chamber, I can also see my buddy Sam as you . . . Captain Gregg." Al paused. "I've watched him do it . . . be solid, I mean. When he concentrates, he can be solid and do whatever he wants to do that requires solidity. Yet we found out earlier today that when he concentrates and does NOT want to be solid, he does that too . . . very well. He can pass through objects . . . chairs, walls, with very little effort — he just thinks it. By the way . . . one other quick question . . ." Al asked, absently, "Carolyn Muir — You've called her 'Mrs. Muir' and 'Carolyn.' Which is it?" It would help if I could let Sam know."
The mariner spoke; his voice low. "It was always Mrs. Muir . . . until last night. After two years . . . I finally called her Carolyn. Only Mrs. Muir before that . . . " he smiled. "Except in a dream . . ."
Al stared straight into the vivid blue eyes of the seaman. "You know, my gut is telling me that Sam is not creating this 'miracle of touch' all by himself — because of him leaping into you, I mean. I don't know how, but I think it's you that can touch and be touched if you wish it. I would also hazard a guess that no one at Gull Cottage knows you can be solid. I do have to wonder though why you haven't told the stunning woman you live with that." Al paused and then handed Gregg another cigar.
"I don't LIVE with her in the sense you are referring to . . ." 'Gregg' growled. "God help me . . . I wish I could. This is MY business, Admiral!" He stopped, then said painfully ". . . and it's private!"
"Yes . . ." agreed Albert Calavicci. "But it may HAVE to become mine . . . and this project's . . . and Dr. Beckett's business, if you plan on leaping back to 1970 — where you belong. I don't think 'normal' ghosts smoke cigars Captain. You ARE a ghost, spirit, spectre — whatever. But I know you can make yourself as solid as I am. It was in that 'solid' state that Sam 'leaped' into you. Figuring out how Sam leaped into you is not our chief issue here right now — not yet anyway. Our first concern is Sam HAS leaped into you to do something, or prevent something from happening . . . most likely involving your family. One way or another, my job is to find out WHAT that is and help him do it, and I don't need any more guff from you! Do I make myself clear? Or do I have to make that an order, Captain?"
Daniel Gregg clenched his fists and glared down at Admiral Calavicci. Admiral Calavicci glared back up at the 19th-Century seaman.
"You have my word, Admiral . . . for now." Gregg said, and paused, as if there was something more that he wished to say. "But . . . " he finally continued, "It's getting blasted boring in here, just waiting! May I have something to read — or can anyone around here play chess? Or do you still play chess in your time?"
Al smiled. "Ziggy will play chess with you. She likes chess."
"I thought this 'Ziggy' was trying to help you and Dr. Beckett."
"She is." Al replied. "She's really a very smart computer . . . that is when her ego doesn't get in the way! But don't tell her I said that! She can do both, I'm sure."
Al Calavicci turned on his heel and left the Waiting Room. He was convinced the seaman was not telling all he knew, but did not want to push the man any more at the moment. What else there was to be learned remained to be seen.
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"Admiral Calavicci?" Gooshie was waiting for Al as he left the Waiting Room.
"Yes?" Al responded, studying Gooshie's expression. There was a frown on the Head Programmer's face; this just couldn't be good news.
"Ziggy has finally pulled up some information. You need to get to the Control Room . . . quickly."