Chapter 27
Lima, Peru
June 2009
As Sam made his way out of the TARDIS, he noticed that the sun was just starting to peek through the curtains of the villa, announcing a new day had arrived. He looked at the couch, half-expecting to see the Doctor sleeping, but was not really surprised to find it empty. "Doctor?" he questioned with a slight rise in his voice. He wondered if the Gallifreyan had gotten any sleep at all. If he were a betting man, he'd go with 'not much.'
"Good morning, Dr. Beckett," Sir Alistair greeted as he came into the room. "I take it you slept well in the TARDIS?"
Sam nodded, rubbing at his neck as he walked over to him. "Yeah. I've gotten used to it."
"Not much of a surprise. Where is the Doctor anyway?"
"I have no idea."
The Brigadier huffed slightly. "That isn't a surprise either. No doubt he's wandered off somewhere."
"Actually," Doris called from the top of the stairs, "I just saw him in Glad's room. It really was sweet, him holding her while she slept in his lap. I didn't have the heart to wake either of them."
"He was sleeping?" Sam asked.
"Like a baby. Poor dear looked absolutely exhausted."
"He is," the leaper confirmed. "I've barely seen him rest in the two months I've known him."
"That sounds like the Doctor," Alistair commented. He started for the kitchen again. "What would you like for breakfast, Dr. Beckett?"
"Don't feel you need to do anything special for me. And call me Sam."
"Nonsense. You're a guest in this house. And it wouldn't be a bother," Doris insisted. "And if you continue to protest, I shall be quite insulted. Now, what would you like?"
"Yes, ma'am." For a moment he thought how this forthright woman and his mother were cut from the same cloth. "I have no idea of what I'd like though. Do you have a specialty?"
"Well, Alistair is quite fond of bannocks."
"Doris, you know that isn't the only thing I'm fond of," the ex-military man half-protested.
"Bannocks would be nice," Sam agreed. "I haven't had those since..." He thought about it a moment. "At least I don't think I've had those since I was on holiday in Scotland while at Cambridge."
"Well, I don't know how long ago that was for you but I could easily make some in no time at all," Doris offered.
"I'd like that," the leaper stated with a smile. "However, I think I need to finish getting ready as I would imagine we'll be hitting the ground running. I'll only be about a half an hour. Will that work?"
"That's just about right, dear. It'll give them a little time to cool."
"Alright, then. If the Doctor gets up, let him know where I am."
Doris gave him a gentle smile. "I'll have breakfast waiting for you when you return," she assured as she went to prepare the morning meal.
Sam thanked her and returned to the TARDIS. He'd only thrown on sweats before and figured that getting into something a little more appropriate would be a good thing. He quickly showered and after drying off went to his host's dresser to collect some undergarments. Finding the most - to him - comfortable of the dainty items, he was about to put them on when Al suddenly appeared before him. Sam quickly grabbed a robe off of his bed. "Can't you knock?! I wasn't decent."
"Knock knock, then," the Admiral told him with a raised eyebrow. "It's not like I can actually make physical contact with that door there. I'm a hologram!"
"Yeah. I know." He stood there for a moment before saying, "Hey, turn around. I need to put on some clothes."
"Oh, please! I have four daughters, Sam! You aren't showing anything I haven't dressed myself." Seeing the look Sam was giving him, he added with wide eyes, "As a father!"
"Still, Rose isn't your daughter." He waited for Al to comply.
The Holographic Observer rolled his eyes and turned around. "Better?"
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I'm glad to see you, Al. I don't remember everything from the last few days but I don't think you were here."
"Well, I certainly tried," the Admiral told him, glad that Sam's Swiss cheese memory seemed to have returned at the right time based on what he'd seen earlier. "We had a bit of a problem. An experiment caused a major malfunction in the power grid, left us in the dark for hours. If it weren't for the boys at Holloman coming by to reroute the systems to the main grid, you and I wouldn't be seeing each other right now."
Sam continued to dress. "I'm glad you got it fixed. Like I said, it's good to see you again." He then asked, "Al, what do you know about the Prometheus Institute?"
"Me? Only what the average guy knows," Al replied, lifting the handlink to bring up whatever information Ziggy could obtain. "But with Ziggy around, average is just the start. The Prometheus Institute is world renown as a global think-tank headquartered in Melbourne, Australia. Their stated goal is to better the world through new technologies. A lot of their research is in environmental issues, saving the Earth, that sort of thing." He pressed a couple of buttons, urging more data from the small hand device. "The CEO is one Harold Saxon. I've seen this guy on the news. He could charm the socks off of an Army grunt and a sailor in the middle of a bar fight." He seemed to exude admiration as he spoke.
Sam considered that. "Okay. What if I was to tell you I think that Lothos may be behind that organization?" he questioned as he finished dressing in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
"You're kidding," Al stated, looking at him with a frown. Seeing the intense expression on Sam's face, he corrected his supposition quickly. "You're not kidding. But... that's impossible, Sam. The Prometheus Institute is on the cutting edge of technology that could save the Earth for the next generation. Doesn't sound like something Lothos would be interested in at all." He put a sarcastic tone to his voice. "Clean the air, save the oceans, create more environmentally friendly fuels... oh, and while we're at it, let's change history for the worst."
"What if that's all a front to keep people from looking too close?"
"If it is, it's a hell of a front. A very effective one, too." He shook his head. "But I just can't believe Harold Saxon is working for Lothos."
Sam was surprised by the tone of Al's voice. "Al, the Doctor believes that someone in that organization might be a Time Lord. Could even be this Saxon guy. And if he is, he's out to rule the galaxy... or more likely, the entire universe."
Again, the Admiral shook his head. "And I'm telling you the Doctor's got his noggin stuck in the wrong set of banisters! Saxon isn't any more evil like Lothos than I'm of Chinese descent!"
The leaper tilted his head. "'I'm telling you, Al. I believe the Doctor on this one. We need to find out exactly what's happening with the Prometheus Institute."
"Would you lay off Saxon and the Prometheus Institute?! I told you it's on the up and up! Who are you going to listen to after all these years? Some yahoo alien from who knows where? Or me, who has been on this planet since the day I was born? You don't even know Saxon! He's a good man! So, lay off!"
"Listen. You don't want to help me on this one, fine. Just ask Ziggy what the chances are that something is not right with the group, okay?
Al growled, jabbing the handlink with only barely contained anger. "She's got nothing," he stated emphatically.
"Really? Nothing?" the physicist stated incredulous.
"That's what I said, isn't it?"
"Then, you're lying," a voice stated from the doorway.
Sam and Al turned towards the voice quickly, both with surprise.
"If you didn't want me in on your conversation, you shouldn't be so loud about it," the Doctor told them.
Sam turned back to Al. "Is he right?"
The Admiral didn't answer, swallowing tightly.
"Oh, Albert's lying, all right." The Gallifreyan took a step into the bedroom, staring down the Holographic Observer. "Problem is, he doesn't know why he's lying. Something's wrong, isn't it? Something's not quite right..." He pointed to his temple. "Up here."
Al looked at the Time Lord with narrowed eyes. "That's rich. The nutty alien's calling me crazy."
"No. Not crazy. Just... confused."
"Al, is he right? Do you feel like these feelings are yours or are they being induced somehow?"
Al blinked. "I don't think so. I mean, it's sort of weird. This Saxon is pretty impressive but I'm usually not so willing to be impressed. I know that doesn't make much sense but..."
Sam looked at his friend of many years. "No... it makes absolute sense. If this man is a Time Lord, he probably is affecting you telepathically." The leaper turned to the Doctor. "I'm assuming that Saxon might be the Time Lord and as such would have that ability. Would that be a good assumption?"
"Yes," the Doctor confirmed. "All Gallifreyans share that particular genetic trait but the Master is especially talented in that particular area. Which brings me back to the issue at hand, namely that you have been lying to us. Why don't you tell us what that magnificent computer of yours is saying? About the Prometheus Institute, not about your inability to tell the truth at the moment."
Al looked at the Doctor and then Sam before looking down at the handlink. "She says there's a seventy-one percent chance that something is wrong with the Prometheus Institute." His face became stern. "But that isn't possible. It just isn't."
Sam listened to what his computer was saying and how his friend was reacting to it. He thought for a moment and then asked, "Al. I'm going to turn your question around on you. How many times have I been right when you've said that things are okay?"
The man in their future shook his head. "But it can't be possible. It just can't! Harold Saxon is a good man."
"So you know him," the Doctor stated, his tone showing that he didn't believe his own words even for an instant.
"No, not personally."
"Then, how can you know he's a good man? Do you know anything at all about Harold Saxon?"
"He's CEO of the Prometheus Institute..."
"Something that doesn't come out of a press packet," the Doctor added quickly. Seeing Al frown, he pressed. "Well?"
There was a long pause as the elder human struggled with what he was being asked. "I... don't know. All I know is... he's a good man."
"So, you would listen to a press release rather than the word of your best friend, a man you've known for over a decade."
Al's eyes shifted between Sam and the Doctor before focusing on Sam. "I... Sam, this is... I'm sorry but I believe in Harold Saxon."
Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. It confirmed to him that Al had been completely brainwashed. He remembered the words his friend had used when he'd chosen to take on several more years as a POW rather than have Sam live through the death of his brother again. He looked directly into Al's eyes. "You once told me that you were always free up here," he said pointing to his temple. "I think that Harold Saxon has gotten into your head and has taken your ability to think clearly about him away."
The veteran shook his head. "That isn't possible, Sam."
"How many people have heard of Harold Saxon?" the Time Lord questioned.
"The whole world," Al answered as if it were the most obvious answer.
"And have you ever heard anyone say a single negative thing about him?"
The latter frowned. "Never. Everyone loves him. Everyone."
"Doesn't that seem odd to you, Al?" Sam queried, trying to reason with him.
"Not even a single tabloid?" the Gallifreyan pressed, not allowing Al to reply. "Even His Holiness the Pope is in the tabloids and yet Harold Saxon isn't?"
Al blinked for a moment. "Okay. I admit it. It's odd. But it's like... I know he's a good man. I can't explain why. I just... do."
Sam looked sadly at Al. "And that's exactly why I think that he's manipulating your mind, Al. You never are at a loss for why you believe anything. I might not always agree with you, but I always listen to your take on things. But for this, even you don't know why you're thinking the way you are."
"And that, Sam, is precisely the matter," the Doctor chimed in. "Albert Calavicci, who is probably the most skeptical of any human I have ever met – that is when it comes to human nature and not the supernatural – is completely enamored with Saxon. And if that just doesn't scream the Master's doing, I don't know what does. But on this scale… the whole world... He's never gone this big before. How is he doing it?"
Sam asked his friend, "When did this start, Al? When did the world start deciding that Saxon was perfect?" He used his fingers to emphasize the last word.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about Sam," the Admiral replied.
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Oh, this would be so much easier if I were there at Project Quantum Leap," he grumbled.
"Okay, maybe you don't know the answer to that, but I bet Ziggy does," Sam said. "Ask her and tell me exactly what she says. No filtering, okay?"
"Ask her what?" Al questioned. "It's a moot point, Sam. Everyone knows Saxon is a good man! Always has been!"
The Doctor looked to the physicist with a sigh. "I'm afraid that Albert, while a bit more open-minded, is still very much under the impression that Mr. Saxon is the best thing since the invention of the wheel."
Al glared at the Doctor. "Oh, right. You have that theory that Harold Saxon is an alien nutcase like you? Well, you're wrong Doctor. Harold Saxon is actually doing what you claim to have done. He's saving the world." he stated hotly, obviously angered by the statement.
The Time Lord's eyes widened slightly at the Admiral's vehemence, a slight frown on his face but didn't say anything.
Sam looked his best friend directly in the eyes. "Al, I need you to help me here. Just ask Ziggy when Harold Saxon became the world's darling. Just ask her and tell me what she says. Moot point or not."
"This is ridiculous!" the older man growled, raising the handlink, punching buttons again. "She says he first came onto the public scene about five years ago when he became CEO of the Prometheus Institute. As CEO, he designed and implemented Pi. Then, six months ago, he started his international campaign to advertise 'Pi.'"
"Pi? What's Pi?"
"Oh, come on! Everyone knows about Pi!"
"3.14159..." the Doctor started. Feeling the frown coming from the two other men, he stopped. "Well, obviously not the same slice of pi."
"Funny," Sam said dryly. Turning back to Al, he shook his head. "I don't. I have no idea what Pi is. Tell me what it is and what it does."
"It's the satellite system."
"What satellite system?" the Time Lord questioned.
Al gave the Doctor a glare. "The one orbiting Earth. Connects all forms of communication and media. Basically allows anyone to get any information from anywhere around the whole world within seconds. The last satellite went up a couple of days ago. Pi's fully up and running now."
"Connects..." Sam started. "Damn." He looked at Al again. "Would you please ask Ziggy to compute pi to its end digit? I need to see how accurate she is." He smiled. "I'd like you to make sure that Gooshie is monitoring her correctly so if you could go back to do it, I'd appreciate it."
Al frowned. "Do you really think that's necessary? You know pi is an infinite number. She'd never calculate it to the last digit. It's impossible. Not to mention the power consumption..." Seeing the look on Sam's face, he sighed. "Fine. I'll go have Ziggy bake a pi." Punching in the exit sequence, he stepped through the door. "I'll be back in about a century." A moment later, he vanished behind the white rectangle that was the Imaging Chamber door.
"You know, all this talk of pi is making me hungry," the Doctor punned as they walk into the console room with the leaper.
Glad was waiting there and looked to Sam. "Mrs. Doris says if you want those bannocks, you better hurry before Sir Alistair eats them all." She didn't wait for a reply as she continued on to her bedroom aboard the ship, obviously intending to change her own clothes.
"Ooo, bannocks! Love bannocks, don't you?" the Gallifreyan commented. "So, what's with you sending Albert away on a fool's errand? Not that I mind his leaving. Hearing how wonderful Saxon is was getting to be a one note symphony."
"I needed Al away from us to talk," Sam told him as they started for the TARDIS' main door. "Ziggy was built with a buffer around her that allows her to predict with higher accuracy the potential scenarios inherent in any timeline based on the triggering event. The fact that the world is now connected with this Pi network means that Ziggy is likely the only computer that is operating in Al's time independently. If she becomes corrupted..."
The Doctor scratched the back of his head. "She'll fall into the Master's hands. Which also means that your friends are very likely about to fall into a great deal of danger."
"Exactly. By having her working on an infinite number, the buffer barrier will become stronger and it will buy us more time. I'm not sure how much, though. We need to do something and do something fast. Let's get what we need from Alistair and get to Australia. Suddenly, I'm very interested to see what the world down under has to offer."
"Australia? Why Australia?"
"Because Melborne, Australia, is the homebase for the Prometheus Institute."
"Well, in that case, we better make plans to visit Melbourne, Australia, hadn't we." He paused. "Well, after breakfast. Can't miss those bannocks, you know."
