Epilogue

Project Quantum Leap

Al's surroundings flickered, and he was back in the Imaging Chamber. "Goodbye, Sam," he whispered to the empty chamber, then exited back into the Control Room, wiping his eyes as he went.

"What happened?" Gooshie asked.

"We've lost Sam for good this time," Al told him.

"You mean he's—"

"I didn't say that," Al cut him off. "No; God or fate or time or…whatever's been controlling Sam's Leaps has given him a new set of orders. Permanent ones.

"Give me a hand here; I need to set up a presentation."

~oOo~

Dr. Donna Eleese, Sam's wife and deputy director of Project Quantum Leap, stared at Al, shock and grief written across her face. "Please tell me you're kidding me, that this is some kind of sick joke," she forced the words past the constriction in her throat.

"I wish it was," Al said quietly.

"I hope he doesn't remember me."

"Oh, he remembers, all right. He started to give me a message for you just before we lost the signal. I didn't hear the whole thing, but from the tone of his voice, I'm pretty sure he was going to say he'll always love you."

She blinked back tears. "Is there any chance at all he may Leap again?"

"We don't know, Donna. He doesn't even know for certain, but he said he had a feeling this was the last one."

"Given the fact that the host is gone, I'd call that a logical conclusion. So where do we go from here?"

"Well, he made me promise to keep the Project going, no matter what. And I saw some things in the Imaging Chamber that make it pretty clear why that's so important."

"If Ziggy can't pin down Sam's location, how did you contact him?"

"She says it was like some kind of beacon grabbed her signal and pulled it in."

"Another time-travel project?"

"Yeah. Sam and Gooshie discovered its existence just before the first Leap."

"The boy that showed up in the Control Room."

"Yeah. Turns out the kid was part of a whole league of time travelers, and Sam thinks that league is a future outgrowth of this Project."

Donna's eyes went wide. "Do you have anything to back that up?"

"Yeah; let me pull up a slide show Gooshie and I just put together. The images were pulled from Ziggy's records of what went on in the Control Room and the Imaging Chamber." He came around the desk until he was standing alongside Donna, then reached forward and manipulated the mouse.

"This is the kid." The first image was that of an eleven- or twelve-year-old boy; Gooshie was holding him firmly by one arm. "Gooshie said it looked like he fell through the ceiling," Al went on. "When Sam finally got him to fully identify himself, Ziggy found this." The screen now showed a newspaper clipping with the headline, BOY VANISHES; POSSIBLE KIDNAPPER SOUGHT.Below the headline was a picture of the same boy. "You're looking at Jeffrey Bogg, born Jeffrey Joneson October 3, 1970; orphaned in the summer of 1981, then disappeared September 12, 1982. He told us he was subsequently adopted."

"And he was still twelve years old when he came into the Control Room in 1995?"

"That's why Sam concluded he was a time traveler, and the kid confirmed his guess." He brought up the next image, in which Jeffrey was looking up at Sam, who was holding what looked like a large pocket-watch. "Check out the symbol on the cover. Now look at this." Two pictures appeared side by side. The one on the left showed what was clearly a child's bedroom, with an upset-looking tan Rottweiler lying on the floor under a shattered window, surrounded by broken glass and shredded paper, most likely from the book he was holding in his mouth. Next to it was a close-up of the book, its leather cover well-battered even without the impressions from the dog's teeth. "Police records say his guardian did not recognize this as one of the kid's books. Records also say that the book was not written in English, or even in the Latin alphabet. Linguists couldn't identify the alphabet, never mind the language. But you'll notice that the symbol on this book is exactly the same as the one on the device. What these pictures can't show you is, every time that device was opened, the accelerator readings went absolutely berserk—and so did the device. When Sam realized that the kid was a time traveler, he ordered Gooshie to fire up the accelerator."

"Is there any possibility that the device itself caused enough interference to foul up the accelerator?" Donna asked.

"No. As long as it was closed, it had no effect on the accelerator; Sam made sure to tell the kid not to open it until he'd Leaped. Once the Leap was complete, Gooshie went into the chamber to see to the host; when he came out, the kid was gone.

"Now during his last Leap—and let me tell you, that was one strange Leap—Sam said he was told something about a 'difficult new assignment.' Some time after that, the last host turned up in the waiting room. Dr. Beeks told us he seemed to know where he was, and absolutely refused to tell her who he was. But Gooshie had always suspected the kid wouldn't have been travelling through time without some kind of supervision, so he figured the host was from whatever group had sent him to us. We kind of stepped outside of protocol when I let him go talk to the host himself, and it turned out he was right: The host knew who he was. Shortly after that, Ziggy finally located Sam." He brought up the next slide, and the screen showed a tall man whose clothes looked like something out of an old pirate movie. Donna stared at the exceptionally handsome features, framed by curly blond hair and highlighted by the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen. "Now if I'd met this man first, I might never have given Sam a second look," she commented.

Al snorted as he zoomed in on the device on the man's belt. It was identical to the one Sam had held in an earlier image. The next picture was another shot of the pirate, this one a wider view, showing a boy standing next to him: Jeffrey. Then came one of

Sam, in his Fermi suit, standing next to an older man wearing a robe that could have been either academic or judicial. "That guy next to Sam was the host; Sam told me that when I told him he'd disappeared from the Waiting Room. How did he get there? That's the mystery. Ziggy didn't detect anything like the interference caused by that gizmo, so we can only assume he Leaped out."

"And if we don't have the host, Sam can't Leap," Donna nodded.

"Now just before we lost contact, Sam asked me to promise to keep the Project going. That's when I saw this." He brought up a picture showing the back of a man clad in desert camos, and pointed to what the man was holding; Donna recognized the earlier version of the handlink. "And that right there is why I intend to keep that promise at all costs."

Donna looked thoughtful. "There's no way we can use this to get the Committee to continue our funding."

"Damn straight...'scuse the language," Al apologized; Donna waved it off. "And without it, the minute they find out Sam's gone, they'll shut us down. I figure the longer it takes them to find out, the longer we'll have to arrange alternate sources of funding. I have a couple of contacts in the Interplanetary Foundation; they're working to privatize space exploration, and I'm hoping they'll be willing to expand their horizons to include us.

"Now when the Committee does revoke our funding, they'll take possession of this facility and everything in it, so we'll have to arrange to relocate, duplicating all our equipment in the process. I figure we've got enough spare parts on the shelf to at least get a start on doing that."

"And the recovery program?"

Al shook his head. "The programmers completed it shortly before we got hold of Sam this last time; Gooshie took a chance on using it while we were in contact, but it was a no-go. I thought it might be because Sam's exchanged mesons and neurons with so many different hosts, it can't lock onto him anymore, but Ziggy says that's been factored into the program, and it draws on her records of the progressive changes every time we've contacted Sam. Now Sam tells me that, according to what he found out in his Leap to 1953, he's actually controlling his own Leaping; if that's true, then there's some reason he's not allowing himself to come home, though Verbeena can't figure out what it might be. She's already given me a list of questions to ask him the next time I contact him...if I contact him," he corrected himself very softly. "Meantime, the programmers want to test the recovery program on another Leaper, so I'm looking for volunteers. If I can't get anybody in-house, we'll have to try to recruit somebody from outside the Project—which we'll have to do anyway to keep the Project active. I've already told Personnel to draw up a screening protocol."

"Well, it's pretty clear you've got this well thought out. Have you got anybody scouting locations yet?"

"Not yet; I figured I'd get the alternate funding in place first, so we have some ballpark idea of how much we can afford to spend. With a nimbus that can be seen for miles even with the accelerator underground, it's going to have to be pretty remote."

Voyager Headquarters

As Garth led Sam out of the Training Control Center, Bogg shook off his own shock and put a hand on Jeff's shoulder. "C'mon, kid. Let's get out of the way and let these guys get back to work."

"Whose idea was my assignment, anyway?" Jeffrey asked as they headed back toward their quarters.

"I don't know; Will won't tell me—except to say that it wasn't a malicious dare; it was sheer curiosity. You're getting a bit of a reputation of your own around here, kid," he added with a grin.

They had almost reached their apartment when running footsteps came up an adjoining corridor; a moment later, Ray Swirski rounded the corner and skidded to a stop when he saw them. "I just saw Professor Garth," he panted. "He said to tell you to meet him over at Receiving. Who was that with him?"

"A new recruit," Bogg answered.

"Tony said after he got back, all the lights went out for a minute, and when they came back on, there was this stranger standing there, but he didn't get to find out anything about him, because they hustled him out of there so fast he didn't even really see what the guy looked like. Is that the new recruit? How'd he get in TCC?"

"We can't tell you," Jeffrey said. "Professor Garth said not to tell anybody." He looked at Bogg. "Can I at least tell him his name?"

"I don't see why not; everybody's going to know that much eventually."

"His name's Sam Beckett."

Ray's jaw dropped. "Sam Beckett? The Sam Beckett?"

"You know about him?"

"He was a real famous physicist back home, Nobel prize and everything. Time Magazine even called him the next Einstein. The guy's a real genius; he's got something like six or seven doctorates."

"Even I know how long it takes to get one of those," Bogg said, "and he doesn't look old enough to have that many."

"That's because he finished each course in only half the time than it normally takes; sometimes even less. He was fifteen when he started his undergraduate studies and had his first doctorate by the time he was nineteen. He disappeared in...I think it was in 2000—Holy cow! I bet he disappeared because he's here!"

Deciding to change the subject before Ray ventured into classified territory, Bogg asked, "Who was that kid with you in New York?"

His features becoming guarded, Ray asked, "What do you mean?"

"They took you up on your suggestion and sent Tony to the day you were recruited. We saw the whole thing, and there was a kid with you who looked just like you."

Sagging, he answered, "That was my twin brother."

"Identical?" Jeffrey asked.

"Yeah. We were both pretty badly hurt; they rushed us to Medical from the Blue Room we landed in and right into surgery." He choked back tears. "Randy died on the table; they told me later that, at the moment it happened, they almost lost me, too."

Jeffrey put a hand on the other boy's shoulder. "I don't know for sure, because I'm an only child, but I think losing a brother's gotta be even worse than losing your parents. I bet you still have nightmares, too."

Ray nodded. "My counselor tells me they'll eventually stop, but it's been a year now."

Jeffrey shrugged. "It's been two years since my parents died, and I still have bad dreams once in a while. Not as often as I used to, though. So it really does get better."

"I hope so. I better get back and tell Professor Garth I gave you his message." With that, he was gone.

~oOo~

"Ah, good," Garth said when the pair came into Receiving. "Don't leave yet; there's a bit of a celebration I'd like you two to stay for. You see, since your trial, Phineas, we've been busy recovering the thirty Voyagers who were exiled during Drake's tenure. The last few were brought back earlier this week, and tomorrow night we're going to be having a welcoming dinner for them. I'd like you two to attend, since I'm sure they'd like to meet the Voyagers responsible for clearing them."

"But I didn't do anything," Jeffrey said. "It was Bogg who told Susan about the diary."

"Perhaps not, but you are a team," Garth smiled at him. "You had your stake in the trial—and I have a good idea, now, just how difficult a time that was for you; now it's time for you to share in the glory, as well." He gazed at Jeffrey as another thought occurred to him. By the late twentieth century, the concept of one's "good name" had been all but completely lost, and he wondered... "Jeffrey, I'm curious about something. How well do you understand just what it is Phineas has given you?"

A shy grin spread across his face. "Enough to hope I can live up to it," he said, and Garth's pleased smile told him it was the right answer.

Finis