Prologue.
PQL, Sliding Springs, New Mexico, 2001.
Al's cigar smoke didn't do anything to thicken the already dense atmosphere. He studied Gooshie's computer screen with what little hope he had left. "Anything yet?"
"Nothing." Gooshie looked at Al solemnly, "You know we're weeks past Ziggy's estimation. Her first theory may be right. While the waiting room is empty, he's just... nowhere."
Shaking his head in determination, Al wasn't giving up so easilly. "There's no such place as nowhere--"
Ziggy's smooth voice interrupted. "Admiral Calavicci, your presence is requested in the main foyer."
Al sighed. "Can't it wait, Ziggy?"
"I'm afraid not. There appears to be some kind of... commotion."
"Commotion?" Al sighed, "What the..? Keep looking."
Gooshie nodded and returned to his work. "Yes, Admiral."
"He's got to be out there. Somewhere." Al headed for the door. "I'll be back as soon as I sort this out."
In the foyer, Al got the impression Ziggy had perhaps overstated the situation. One lone woman arguing with a doorman didn't really qualify as a commotion in Al's mind. But it was rare for Ziggy to be wrong...
"Don't tell me you've never heard of it!" Al heard her raised voice as he approached, "I need to speak to someone on the Quantum Leap Project. Al - he called him Al. It's about Sam Becket." She repeated he words ephatically. "DOCTOR Sam Becket..."
Sam? Al picked up his pace, easilly sliding himself between the woman and the guard, dismissing him with a wave of his cigar. "I'll take care of this."
He ushered the woman aside, "I'm Admiral Albert Calavicci. You said you have information about Sam Becket?"
"Thank god..." She looked up at him, "May 26th, 2001. Today."
Al's heart skipped a beat. "What about today?"
"It's the date he gave me. To give to you." She clutched at his shimmering lapel. "He's coming home."
A shower of sparks denoted Al's cigar hitting the floor.
His mouth dropped open. "Oh, Boy."
Sam Becket was cold. A chilled wind fingered up his spine and teased the hair at the back of his neck. His brow furrowed as he tried to get his bearings. Where the hell was he now?
He looked up and saw a flat featureless sky, and assumed he was in a city. He remembered his days on the farm fondly. As a boy, he would lie on his back in the long grass during the summer nights, content to watch the universe silently slip across the sky... a sight rarely afforded to those cramped into big cities.
The fanciful quickly turned to the practical. OK, Sam. It's the middle of the night, and you're standing in an alley god-knows-where wearing no shoes and... what IS this thing I'm wearing anyway? long johns...?
Underwear!
Sam shivered in the frigid night air and took refuge behind a nearby dumpster, praying Al would turn up sometime before he froze to death or was arrested for indecency.
The 20 minute wait before he heard the sound of the imaging chamber door opening seemed more like 20 years.
"Sam!" Al yelped excitedly, "You're not going to believe--"
"Al! thank god..." Sam glanced around frantically, still paranoid someone was going to spot him, and more importantly, what he wasn't wearing. "Find me some clothes."
Sam's Furmi suit didn't seem that stange to Al. "You've got clothes."
"I've got underwear!" Sam insisted through clenched teeth.
"That's not underwear, Sam, that's--"
Sam wasn't interested in a discussion on fashion, particularly with someone who looked like he'd been standing in a dye factory when a bomb went off. "Clothes, Al! NOW!"
"OK, OK ..." Al chomped on his cigar and muttered to himself as he consulted the handlink, "According to Ziggy's scan..." he pointed to somewhere behind Sam, "Two fences that-a-way. There's a clothes line."
Sam peered over the fence tentatively and sighed. If streaking through two backyards in his underwear and stealing some poor person's laundry wasn't going to get him arrested... He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for the task at hand. He heard the handlink squawk behind him.
"Coast is clear, Sam. If you're going, now's the time."
Sam heaved himself over the fence and sprinted to the next boundary, thankful to find himself concealed by shadows. It was only when he got his first look at the array of clothes hanging in the next yard, that he realised he didn't have a clue what might be appropriate.
Al appeared, a mauve and lime shimmering spectre floating amongst the clothes, and made a few questionable suggestions.
Sam glanced nervously at the surrounding darkened windows. He climbed over the next fence as quietly as he could, snatched a few of Al's darker coloured items, then dissappeared into the night.
When Al caught up with him, he was pulling on his ill-gotten black levis. "You should have got the purple sweater, Sam. I'm sure it's your colour."
Sam sighed as he pulled a dark sweater over his head, which turned out a little too big for him. "I'd rather not draw any attention to myself at the moment."
"Oh. So you dress like a cat burglar?"
"Shoes." Sam answered simply.
"Huh?"
Sam pointed at his bare feet, "I need shoes."
"Oh!" Al consulted the hand link once more.
A blood-curdling scream split the silence of the evening.
Al and Sam stared at each other in shock a moment.
"What was that?" Al checked his handlink
"I don't know - check it out!"
Al blinked out.
Sam took off running in the direction the sound.
Al appeared in front of him again, frantically pointing and waving, "this way, Sam!"
Another scream reached his ears as he rounded the corner. In the distance he could see two figures struggling. A hefty man overcoming a woman.
Now powered by adrenalin, Sam upped his pace "Hey!" he yelled, even though his lungs burned with the effort of running, "Stop!"
Thankfully, the challenge alone was enough to make the attacker scurry into the darkness. Sam let out a sigh of relief and slowed to a jog.
"Are you alright?" He puffed as he watched a woman pick up scattered papers with shaking hands.
"Yes. Thank you." She sounded close to cracking.
Sam looked at Al for guidance.
Al shook his head. "Ziggy hasnt a clue who she is, Sam. Get more."
Sam watched her straighten, and cram a handful of crumpled papers into a satchel. She was small, hiding behind long dark cury hair.
Noticing her torn clothes, Sam stripped off the sweater he'd gone to great pains to obtain and offered it to her, "Your clothes ... here... take this."
She shook her head, pushing his offer away, and went back to collecting the papers littering the sidewalk. Sam put his sweater back on and did the same, keeping an eye on her rather than paying much attention to what he was collecting.
After a minute or so of silence, he asked gently, "What happened?"
"I don't know. I'd just pulled up in my car, and he reefed me out by the hair and started attacking me." She wiped a tear away, and let out a shaky breath, "If you'd not scared him off..."
Sam picked up a broken pair of spectacles from the road and offered them to her, "Are these yours?"
She nodded, "I have a spare pair inside. I live across the street."
"We'd better get you inside, then. Call the police."
She finally looked up at him, her dark doe-like eyes only made him more docile. "No police."
Under the streetlight, Sam noted the red mark on her chin that was sure to become a bruise.
Her head tipped to the side a moment as she studied him. "Do I know you? You look... familiar."
"Unlikely, Sam" Al piped in.
Sam shook his head, "I dont think so."
"Dr Becket? Sam Becket? Right?"
"well. Apparently she DOES know you." Al commented.
Too stunned to speak, Sam just stood there in shock.
"That's it!" she became more animated, "I caught your lecture on Quantum String theory... must have been more than a year ago. Fascinating insight. I'd been hoping to catch you again... but the word was the government had you holed up on some secret reseach project."
Sam glanced down at the papers he was still holding. He recognised some basic quantum equasions, plus a couple he'd need a few minutes to get his head around. Still shell-shocked, he staggered over to the car and checked his reflection in the side mirror, forgetting how strange that might seem to someone watching. "Why didn't you tell me?" he managed a whispered aside to Al.
"Don't blame me." Al threw his hands up, "Everytime I tried to fill you in, it was get me this, Al, get me that, Al..."
"I have to tell you who you are?" A confused female voice came from behind him.
"No..." Sam tore himself away from his reflection, then lent against the car and gave her a shy smile. "Sam Beckett." he offered his hand.
She took it, "Amy Westman."
Sam glanced at Al, then passed the rest of her papers to her, "Here... these are yours... Are you sure you're going to be alright?"
She nodded. "Would you like to come inside? I can rustle up some hot chocolate."
That was exactly what Sam wanted to do. He wanted to keep an eye on her for shock, he wanted to be out of the cold. But he also knew he had to talk to Al. "Maybe another time... I'm... meeting a friend."
"At 2am?"
"well ..." he flustered for an excuse. "I'm a little late..."
She seemed more collected now. She dug into her pocket and handed him a card. "You're welcome anytime. If you don't mind having your ear bent, I'd love the chance to run some theories past you. We're close to a breakthrough in quantum-matter transference."
"What does that mean?" Al piped in.
Sam glanced at Al, but didn't elaborate. He just smiled at her instead. "I hope we can do that soon. I confess, I'm very curious."
He walked her across the road to the door of her apartment. "Sure you're OK?"
"Positive. Thanks." She gave him a final look before disappreaing into her apartment block.
Sam took a deep breath and started walking. "Was that why I was here? I should leap now, right?"
"Ziggy doesn't think so. In fact, Ziggy hasn't any idea why you're here - or HOW you're here for that matter."
"How...?" Sam slowed as his real predicement dawned on him, and faced Al, "Who's in the waiting room?"
"umm..." Al poked at the handlink, even though he already knew the answer, "err ... That would be... umm... Nobody."