Chapter 4
He snapped awake for the second time with severe disorientation. It took him a few seconds to figure out he had made it back to his quarters after seeing Al last night, and the incessant ringing wasn't in his ears, but coming from the doorbell.
He opened the door to find Emilie Parker dressed in a full suit with coffee in one hand and a large stack of files in the other.
"Good morning, Dr. Beckett," she said with a smile. "Since it's just your second day, I figured I'd let you sleep in for a bit."
Sam, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, looked down at his wristlink. "It's 5:45 in the morning," he replied, squinting at her.
"The Admiral usually starts his day promptly at 0500 hours," she said. "And we have a lot to go over this morning." Her demeanor was professional yet her light brown eyes radiated a warmth and sympathy that was hard to miss. She held up the paper cup in her hand. "Coffee?"
Sam grudgingly took the cup, chugged the majority of its contents in one tongue-burning swig, and asked Emilie to delay the day by five more minutes. He changed out of his clothes from the previous day and splashed some cold water on his face. The reflection in the mirror that stared back at him had unruly hair and dark circles under his eyes.
"How did Al do this for so many years?" he asked no one in particular.
"He was dedicated to his mission to bring you home," Ziggy's voice filled the space. "The Admiral kept very disciplined hours and requested the same from the staff."
"How many hours a night did he sleep?" Sam asked.
"The Admiral has slept for an average of 4.53 hours a night since the commencement of the project in 1985."
Sam shook his head, wiped his face, and readied himself to face the day.
"First order of business," Emilie said as they walked toward one of the meeting rooms, "is the Quantum Technology Gala in two days."
Sam almost choked on the last of his coffee. "Come again?"
"It's the biggest private investment funding event of the year," said Emilie. "We've been planning it for the past six months. Since Al isn't able to go, you'll have to take his place."
"But…I don't know any of the investors," said Sam.
"Don't worry," Emilie said as she pushed open the glass door to the meeting room. "Ziggy and I will have you covered. I do want to review some logistics and the names of the biggest investors this morning so you're familiar with them. Al said that you have a photographic memory?"
Sam nodded.
"Then this should be a breeze. Now, let's start with the location of the gala."
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Ziggy said from a speaker above them, "but Dr. Beckett's presence is needed in the Imaging Chamber."
Sam's head snapped up from the file Emilie had just handed him. "Is Sammy Jo okay?"
"It appears she has succeeded in reuniting Sophia and her family," Ziggy replied.
"What? How did she do it?"
"The mayor of the city paid a surprise visit to the police department with a camera crew in anticipation for the opening ceremony of the Olympics," Ziggy replied. "It appears Dr. Fuller was in the right place at the right time. She appealed to her parents on camera and they took her back. I have records of her graduation from Paul Smith's College in 1982."
Sam and Emilie looked at each other. "That's great news," said Sam. "So why hasn't she leaped?"
"I hypothesize the reason Dr. Fuller hasn't leaped is due to the current fluctuating situation of the observer."
. . .
Sam and Emile arrived at the Control Room to see a small group of people crowded around the entrance to the Imaging Chamber. The technicians dispersed to their stations at the sight of them, revealing Rachel, the same nurse as yesterday, standing behind a wheelchair with Al as its occupant.
"Al, what are you doing here?" Emilie asked with concern. "You're supposed to be in bed, resting."
"The medical wing was getting old," Al replied, his complexion not much better compared to when Sam left him the night before. "I thought some walking—or rolling, might be good for me." He attempted a smile.
"Emilie is right," Sam agreed. "You should be resting."
"Ziggy said Sammy Jo did her job but hasn't leaped yet," said Al. "She thinks Sammy Jo needs to know she'll have an observer when she leaps again."
"I'll still be here," said Sam.
"Yeah, but she doesn't know that. She's probably scared, consciously or subconsciously, that her next leap is going to somehow disconnect her from the project. She has to see that I'm okay and this is just a temporary situation."
Sam considered his words. "You're going into the Imaging Chamber?"
Al pushed himself up into a standing position. "I'd like us both to go, so she can see we're working—" Sam was quick to react as a wave of dizziness overtook Al. He deftly helped the other man back into the seat and lowered himself to eye level.
"Al," he said quietly, so the conversation stayed between them, "you're in no shape to walk, and you're scaring everyone in this room." Al looked around the room to confirm his assessment. "There is one way and only one way I'm going into the Imaging Chamber with you, and that's by escorting you in this wheelchair. Do we have a deal?"
Sam knew the stubborn side of Al. He could see the man considering all his options, trying to find a way into the Imaging Chamber without the chair. After a few moments, he was relieved to see the other man nod in agreement.
Leilani acknowledged his silent go ahead to prepare the chamber, and when the door slid open, he guided the wheelchair into Sammy Jo's world.
. . .
Sammy Jo was speaking to an older woman when she saw both Al and Sam come through the Imaging Chamber door. The sight of Al in the wheelchair shocked her into silence.
"Sophia, are you okay?" The woman asked.
Sammy Jo nodded, still staring at the two men. The other woman turned to look at the direction of her gaze, but saw nothing.
"Are you sure?" she asked again.
Sammy Jo tore her gaze away to face the woman. "Everything's fine, mom, I'm just really glad to be home."
"I'm glad too, sweetie," said Sophia's mother, bringing Sammy Jo into a hug. "I'll give you some time to freshen up before lunch, okay?"
Sammy Jo nodded, and the older woman exited the room.
"Al, what happened?" She closed the steps between them quickly and kneeled by the wheelchair. "Are you sick? Are you hurt?" She moved her hands toward him, but knew she couldn't touch him.
"I'm fine," said Al, putting an extra layer of cheer into his voice. "The chair was Sam's idea. I don't really need it. It's great to see you, kid."
Sammy Jo looked up at Sam, and knew it was a lie. She had seen Al sick with a cold or the flu before, even with food poisoning once. This was something serious.
"Tell me the truth," she said, facing the older man again.
Al lowered his gaze for a moment, before meeting her eyes again. "The truth is, I am sick, but I'm getting treatment for it, so I don't want you to worry."
"With what?" Sammy Jo asked.
Al sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to hide his condition any longer. "Cancer. It's in my lungs."
"What stage?"
"Sammy Jo—" Al interrupted.
"What stage?" she demanded again.
"Three," he said, gauging her reaction. "It's treatable."
Sammy Jo took a moment to process Al's words. In the few seconds that it took her photographic memory to sift through everything she had ever read on stage 3 cancer, her expression turned from concern to deep apprehension. She blinked, quickly wiping her eyes before any tears had the chance to spill.
"You'll keep me updated with your treatment?"
"Of course," Al replied. "And you don't have to worry about your leaps. Sam will step in for me until I'm better."
Sammy Jo looked up at Sam, then back at Al. Her unasked question hung in the air between the three of them. What if you don't get better?
"I won't leave you alone out here," said Sam. "I promise."
"Hey," said Al, trying to lighten the mood. "Believe me when I say this guy's a real boy scout. I mean, off the charts good Samaritan," he gestured to get his point across. "You're in good hands, kid."
Sammy Jo nodded unconvincingly.
Al picked up on her hesitation. "Sammy Jo, will you promise me something?" he asked.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Promise me that you won't give up on us. Because we're working hard at the project. We're gonna bring you home, sooner than you think."
She extended her hand to his, but clenched it in disappointment as she grasped only air. Swallowing, she replied, "I promise, Al."
A blue light enveloped her, growing so bright that it blanketed the entire Imaging Chamber. Moments later, the light faded and Sam and Al were left within the blank walls of the room. Sammy Jo had leaped.
Al exhaled heavily as he leaned slowly back into his chair. Keeping up the veil of good health had taken all of his energy.
Sam, acting purely on instinct, kneeled into the same position that Sammy Jo occupied just a moment earlier. He hesitated briefly before extending his hand to meet Al's in a firm grasp. He wondered how much Sammy Jo would give for this simple touch. He would've given anything, back in his leaping days.
"Thank you, Al," he said with sincerity, "for taking care of her when I wasn't able to."
The older man nodded and squeezed his hand in affirmation.
The door to the Imaging Chamber opened almost immediately, with Dr. Ledger leading the charge.
"You've gotta be kidding me," he said as he surveyed the scene. He shot Sam a disapproving look as he leaned in to check his patient.
"Not his fault," said Al, motioning to Sam. "This was my idea."
Ledger shook his head. "That doesn't make it any better, Admiral."
"Emilie called you?" Al asked.
"Her and Ziggy," the doctor replied.
"You guys are teaming up on me."
"Or for you," said Ledger. "Al, can't you see it's for your own good? You're in the middle of chemotherapy. Your body needs the rest."
"Well what are we waiting for? Let's get back to it then."
Ledger sighed and took his position behind the wheelchair. "You know I'm going to have to report this to Verbena."
Al looked up at him in disbelief. "You wouldn't."
Ledger held his disapproving expression for a moment longer, before his lower lip temporarily twitched, giving away his guise. "Okay Admiral, I'll let you off this once. Next time, Verbena finds out."
Al settled back into the chair with a smile. "Good man."