From: nakazawa@phakt.usc.edu (Rei Nakazawa)
Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative,alt.tv.quantum-leap.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: "Leap Year" (5/6)
Date: 9 Nov 1995 23:29:29 -0800
Organization: University of Southern California, Los Angeles, CA
Message-Id: <47uv0p$q8a@phakt.usc.edu>

	"Sam?  Sam!"  Al shouted desperately, trying to somehow 
overwhelm the jamming field Lothos had set up with pure volume, trying 
to reach Sam, who was kneeling on the floor, sobbing softly.  It didn't 
work.  "Sam, this isn't your fault!  Sam!"
	"Take him away," St. John said with a distinct note of disgust in 
his voice. "Wring him dry."  The two guards again grabbed each of 
Sam's arms and dragged him, literally this time, out of the room.  Al 
watched helplessly, then followed, walking through the closing door as 
Sam was carried into an elevator.
	"Ziggy, keep scanning this place if you can.  I'm going after 
Sam."  He stepped into the elevator with them just as DeLuce and 
Brewster also entered.  The six of them rode in silence up a short 
distance.  When the doors ground open again, they faced a corridor 
much like every other in the complex.  As the guards, Sam, DeLuce, and 
Brewster made their way down the winding maze, Al looked about in 
curiosity and amazement.  "Man, this place is big."  He stopped as the 
others entered an open door.  Al reluctantly followed.
	The room was bustling with electronic equipment, scanners, 
computers, and such.  Al immediately had Ziggy scanning this 
equipment, too, as the guards carried Sam onto a large reclining chair in 
the middle of the room. They strapped metal bands around Sam's limp 
wrists, chest, and ankles, saluted the two doctors, and marched out of 
the room.
	Sam groaned weakly as Brewster circled the perimeter of the 
room, turning on the equipment, flipping switches.  DeLuce attached 
several pads with wires running out of them onto Sam's head.  Al glared 
at her as she did this.  "What are you doing to him?"
	"I'm ready, Warren," DeLuce said.
	"Good.  Get to it."
	DeLuce withdrew a shiny gold pendant and a filled hypodermic 
syringe from her pocket.  She injected Sam with it and waited as Sam's 
eyelids slowly drooped, his mouth hanging open just a bit.  "Al..." he 
said softly.
	Al's eyes widened.  "Sam, can you hear me now?  Sam?"
	"Did you have Lothos transfer the scrambler field to this room?" 
Brewster asked abruptly.
	"Of course," DeLuce answered in annoyance.  Al's shoulder's 
slumped.  She held up the pendant and twirled it in front of Sam's half-
closed eyes.  "Dr. Beckett... watch the coin.  Watch it spin around and 
around.  Concentrate on the coin... watch the light and the pretty 
colors... See the pretty colors?"
	"Yes," Sam said weakly.
	"Good.  Will you answer my questions, Dr. Beckett?"
	"Yes..."
	"No!" Al shouted, even though he knew it was useless.  "Don't 
talk to her!"
	"Good."  DeLuce's voice was soft, gentle, as if she were coaxing 
a kitten out from under a car.  "Just talk to me, Sam.  Tell me a little 
about yourself, about her family."
	"I'm getting Beckett's personal history on the monitor now," 
Brewster interrupted.
	"Shhh!" DeLuce warned angrily.  She turned back to Sam.  "Go 
on."
	"My dad's name was John... my mom's was Thelma Louise...  
Brother Tom, sister Katie..."

	"Now this is interesting."
	Gooshie looked up at Ziggy questioningly.  "What's that?"
	"The design of this Lothos is quite advanced.  Even better than 
me, I am forced to admit.  Thanks to the input and access Admiral 
Calavicci was able to offer me, and drawing on knowledge of my own 
inner workings, I am able to isolate almost every working area of 
Lothos' programming and equipment."  She paused for a moment, as if 
absorbing all her new data.  "It is quite interesting."
	"What's it like?" Gooshie asked eagerly.  As a scientist, he was 
always eager for new knowledge in his field.
	"See for yourself."  A beam of blue light shot out of her sphere, 
and a 3-D schematic appeared before Gooshie.  His eyes widened in 
astonishment.
	"Incredible!"  He knelt before the floating schematic.  "This is 
amazing!  Tina, look!"  Tina was quickly at his side in several mincing 
steps, her legs hindered by her tight skirt of the week.  "Look at this 
circuitry!  This is years ahead of its time!"  He suddenly grinned in 
embarrassment.  "Oh, right.  It is.  But this," he announced, jabbing his 
finger through a complex set of mechanical components, "is the circuitry 
that allows them to control Leaps!"
	"Wow!" Tina said.  "Can we put that into Ziggy?"
	Gooshie sighed.  "Not without major restructuring we can't 
afford.  Besides, there are probably accompanying programs we have no 
idea of."
	"Darn.  I wanted Dr. Beckett to come back."
	Gooshie slung an arm around her shoulder.  "So did I, Tina.  So 
did I."

	"Very good, Sam.  Now close your eyes and go to sleep."  He 
obeyed, and DeLuce glanced down at her notes.  "Interesting.  It seems 
that he's already changed his personal history several times."
	"Then we use that for his treatment," Brewster said, examining 
a print out from a nearby computer.  "And I've found all his most 
sensitive points for the usual electroshock therapy."
	Al, who had been looking over Brewster's shoulder, snapped to 
in rage.  "Electroshock?  Dammit, do you know what he's gone through 
with..."  He stopped, as he realized that it was probably exactly why 
they were going to use it.
	"Then he's ready."  DeLuce unstrapped him and pressed a 
nearby button.  The two guards promptly entered the room.  They 
grabbed the limp, sleeping Sam off the chair and began dragging him into 
an adjoining room.  Al again followed, examining his hand link.
	"What?  You still can't override?  Work on it!"  Al growled in 
frustration as he followed Sam into the other room.  It looked much like 
the Imaging Chamber when unused, but with two major differences: the 
glow that filled the room was red, and there was another chair like the 
one in the previous room inside.  The guards once again strapped Sam 
into this chair and left at once.  DeLuce and Brewster strolled in, 
standing casually by Sam's side.  DeLuce picked up a headband lying on 
the armrest, one attached with more wires than a piano, Al thought.  
She fitted it around Sam's head and patted his hand.
	"Have fun, Sam."  With a wicked grin, she and Brewster left the 
room.  The door shut behind them with a horrible, empty echo.  Al knelt 
by Sam's side just as he was awaking.
	"Al...?" He weakly looked about.  "Where are you?"
	"I'm right here!"  Al was close to tears now.  "Come on, Sam, 
you've got to hear me!"
	Suddenly, the red of the room began to fade, replaced by a large 
room, dark, row upon row of beds.  People, their minds shattered by 
disease or injury, sat or stood on the beds, gibbering, pounding on the 
frames, or just staring.  Sam's eyes widened in terror. "No..."
	Al recognized the place, too.  He'd mentioned it, thought of it 
with shivers up his spine, just moments before, but here they were, 
again...  No, it wasn't again.  This was a holographic image, nothing 
more.  But to Sam, with those gizmos coming out of his head, it must 
seem more than real.
	"No!" Sam screamed, struggling against his bonds.  "Don't do it 
to me again!  Al, help me!"
	"Sam," Al shouted as he nearly jammed his face into Sam's, 
"this isn't real!  It's a hologram!  Sam!"
	"Don't do it to me again!  Don't..."  A holographic doctor, a 
youngish man with short black hair and round glasses, approached with 
a clipboard.
	"How are you doing tonight, Mr. Beederman?"
	"Don't..." Sam protested weakly.
	"You've been very sick, you know that."  He smiled pleasantly 
as a bolt of lightning flashed across the window behind him, casting that 
smile in a very different light.
	"Please don't make me go through it again."
	"I'm afraid we have no choice.  It's for your own good.  Nurse!"  
A middle aged nurse with curly red hair wheeled a strange machine into 
the room.
	"No..."  Sam struggled weakly to free himself, to no avail.
	The doctor drew out two insulated metal pads attached to the 
machine.  "This won't hurt a bit."
	"NONONONONONONO!!!"  Sam screamed.  The gut 
wrenching cry echoed through the room and into Al's very soul as the 
metal headband lit up with electricity, and Sam's body thrashed, his face 
contorted with agony, not just physical.  His wrists spasmodically 
fought his bonds, but they held blisteringly tight.  Soon, though it 
seemed like years passed, the image faded, the headband returned to 
its normal dull sheen, and Sam's body relaxed.
	"Good God, Sam..."  Then another picture appeared around them, 
a hot, steamy jungle.  Al recognized it immediately.  A man in fatigues 
was kneeling nearby, looking over the brush.
	"C'mon, Magic, we've gotta save those POWs!"
	"Tom?" both Sam and Al asked simultaneously.
	"Stop kidding around, let's go!"  Tom raised his weapon and 
charged into the camp.
	"Tom!  Stop!"  Sam's cry came too late as horde upon horde of 
Viet Cong soldiers came out of nowhere, firing, riddling Tom's body with 
lead.  His shredded chest heaved as he collapsed to the ground.  He 
looked towards Sam with wide, questioning eyes.
	"Magic... why couldn't you save me...?"  His head fell to the 
ground.
	"TOM!"  Then he saw it: the bamboo cage that hung not ten feet 
away.  Trapped in it was an unshaven man wearing a dirty and faded 
uniform.  "Al..."
	"Sam!  Help me!"  Soon both his cage and Sam's position were 
surrounded with menacing soldiers carrying rifles.  "Sa..."  Before he 
could cry out again, the soldiers took down his cage, shoved him out of 
it, and began carrying him away.  "Sam!  Help!"
	"Al!"  Sam's head lolled to one side, tears squeezing out of his 
tightly shut eyes.
	"Sam..." a voice whispered hoarsely.
	Al's eyes widened.  "Oh, God, they wouldn't..."
	"Not here when we lost the farm, not here when I had my heart 
attack...  You never loved me!  All you've ever loved is yourself!  I am 
ashamed to be your father, Samuel Beckett.  I wish you'd never been 
born!"
	Al looked up at the ceiling helplessly.  "Why?  Why are you..."  
He turned back to Sam.  "Be strong, Sam.  Please!"

	"You may have finally redeemed yourself," St. John said as he 
paced around DeLuce and Brewster.  The two stared at each other 
nervously, sweating but pleased.
	"I am currently regulating Dr. Beckett's treatment," Lothos 
added, "but my scans tell me that he is enjoying it very much."  There 
was more than a hint of a laugh in his voice."
	"Well," DeLuce laughed nervously, "when have we failed you 
before?"
	"U.S. Representative Corey LaMotta," Lothos reminded them 
flatly.  "Arnold Watkins, President of Watkins Industries..."
	"They weren't our fault!" Brewster shouted.  "I said at the time 
that we shouldn't have taken the fall with Alia and Zoey!  It was 
them..."  He saw St. John's face and very quickly stopped talking.
	"They've cost quite a bit of trouble to our sponsors," Lothos 
remarked.  "They are not impressed with our lack of results on those 
two."
	There was a moment of tense silence.  "But you have done well 
now," St. John finally said cheerfully.  "We have Beckett; he won't be 
causing us any problems anymore, eh, Veronica?"
	DeLuce snapped to attention abruptly, as if she were deep in 
thought.  "No.  He's... taken care of."
	Brewster laughed.  "I should say so!  I think this calls for a 
celebration."
	"Later," St. John said flatly.  "When Beckett is dead and buried."
	"Which shouldn't be long!" Brewster added cheerfully.
	St. John smiled tightly.  "No, after all these years, I finally have 
the revenge I so richly deserve..."

	"Jesus Ortega, do you have anything you wish to say before you 
are executed?"
	"Please... I'm innocent..."
	The guard stepped back and nodded towards a window.  On the 
other side, a hooded man pulled a large lever.  Sam screamed...
	Al automatically closed his eyes as electricity shot through the 
headband into the twitching, shrieking Sam.  He rubbed his tight 
forehead, wincing in the shared pain.  He felt the rage build up in him 
again like molten metal, though he felt weak and tired at the same time. 
 Hour after hour the torture had come, hour after hour he watched 
helplessly as Sam suffered more than any human being should suffer.  
He wasn't sure who was more drained, Sam or himself.  "You people 
think this is fun?" he shouted.  "Do you?  When are you going to stop 
this?!!"  Just as abruptly as his cry, the holographic image and electricity 
stopped.  Sam's head dropped back, limp.
	The door opened, and those same two guards marched in, 
unwired Sam, undid his bonds, and roughly picked him up.  "Where do 
we take him?" one of them asked.
	"Back to the Holding Chamber," the other said briskly as they 
dragged Sam out of the room and through the halls.  "They aren't 
finished with him yet."
	"Why?" the first asked with thinly veiled disgust.  They stepped 
into the elevator, the doors shutting automatically.  Al tapped on his 
hand link and disappeared.  "Why don't they just kill him right now?"
	"They want to put him through several rounds of treatment first," 
the second responded, grinning.  "He's a big troublemaker, the way I 
hear."
	"Really?  What has he done?"
	"Dunno.  But orders are orders."  As they arrived at their 
destination and they pulled Sam through the now empty Control Room, 
Al appeared once again.  He followed them as one of the guards 
elbowed a panel by the Holding Chamber door, tossed Sam into the 
room, and shut the door again.  "Hey," the guard whispered to his fellow 
after taking a good long look at Lothos' input port, "I heard that Lothos 
is gonna be taken off-line pretty soon for another upgrade."  Al's ears 
perked up.  He leaned towards the two, hoping to catch something 
important in their conversation.
	The other guard grinned.  "Party time!" he whispered back.  "But 
I've never understood why he has to be shut down."
	"Hey, he's a big boy.  You know he has two whole rooms for 
hardware?  Anyone trying to make hardware changes to him would be 
electrocuted if he was still on-line.  It's only for a while, though, so we'd 
better get everyone together fast."
	"Right!"
	"Hey, boys," Lothos interrupted.  "Get a move on!  Back to 
work!"
	"Yessir!"  The two left very quickly.
	Lothos sighed.  "Just can't find good help these days.  Monitor 
them 24 hours a day, and they still don't like to work.  Ah, well."  Al 
grimaced as he stepped through the door to the Holding Chamber.

	"Dr. Beckett?" Melissa asked tentatively.  He was still lying by 
the door, where the guards had tossed him.  He was alive, but Melissa 
could already tell that he wasn't really all there.  His eyes were opened 
wide, and his breathing was harsh and forced.  She crawled to his side 
as he painfully got up and leaned against a wall.  "Dr. Beckett?  Are you 
all right?"
	"Failed..."
	Melissa drew back, startled.  "What?"
	"Life's worthless...  Never did anything right."  Sam looked up at 
her sorrowfully.  "All I've done is hurt people..."
	"No!" Melissa and Al said simultaneously.  Al did a quick double 
take and began pounding on the hand link.  "Ziggy!  You find me a way 
to talk to Sam RIGHT NOW!"
	"I don't know you too well," Melissa continued, "but I think I 
know enough.  You were going to give yourself to that Lothos to stop 
him from hurting me.  You tried to save Jeff."  She touched his cheek.  
"You seem like a very kind man.  I don't think you've hurt people at all."
	"You don't understand," Sam groaned.  "I abandoned my father.  
I let my brother die.  I could've saved my best friend's marriage, but I 
didn't..."  He paused a moment, confused, shaking his head.  "Or did I?"
	"That doesn't sound like you," Melissa interrupted.  "I don't 
think you ever would've done these things.  These people will do 
anything to hurt you.  I can see that."  Her hand unconsciously steadied 
Sam's own, which were shaking violently.  "You can't let them beat 
you."
	"You're right."  Sam managed a weak smile.  "You don't know 
me.  If you did, you wouldn't be saying that.  I left my best friend to rot 
in Vietnam.  I don't know if he's even alive..."
	
	"WHAT?" Al shouted.  "Ziggy!  What the hell is going on?  Why 
doesn't Sam know if I'm alive?"
	"The psychological torture administered to Dr. Beckett has 
caused some strange reactions in his magnafluxed mind," Ziggy 
answered coolly.  "It may have caused Dr. Beckett's memory and 
possibly psyche to partially shatter."
	"Great!  Now how about getting me seen by Sam?"
	"With sufficient power, I may be able to override the jamming 
field temporarily, but it would take enough electricity to light the 
Eastern Seaboard for four and a half..."
	"I don't care if you have to drain the whole goddamn continent for 
a year!  Get me Sam!"
	"Very well, Admiral."  Ziggy's innards hummed with increasing 
power.  Outside the Imaging Chamber, Gooshie and Tina looked about 
them with increasing wonder.
	"I've never heard Ziggy draw this much power before," Gooshie 
breathed.
	"Ziggy?" Tina squeaked.
	"In a minute."  The humming grew louder and louder, until the 
very air seemed to be charged.  Gooshie and Tina held each other tight.

	"No use..."  Sam's head hit the wall.
	"Dr. Beckett," Michelle started, "you can't..."
	"Just leave me alone."
	"But..."
	Sam lashed out in a vicious slap that echoed through the 
Chamber.  Michelle staggered back, holding her cheek, hurt more 
emotionally than physically.  "I said _leave me alone_!"  Sam buried 
his face in his hands and sobbed quietly.
	"Sam?"  The voice snapped his head back up.  It was indistinct 
and soft, but it was there.  "Sa...  can you hea... me?"
	"Al?"  Sam stood up, looking about wildly.  "Al, are you there?"
	Two feet away, Al's image slowly came into being, a reverse 
Cheshire Cat effect, becoming more distinct, though it was still blurry 
and breaking up.  "Sam?  Sam, are you there?"
	"Al!"  Sam blinked, shaking his head in astonishment.  "I 
remember!  You are okay!"
	"Yeah, I am.  But you've gotta get out of here!"  Al's face grew 
tense and grave.  "You've got people rooting for you, kid.  You can't give 
up!"  Al managed to smile a little.  "C'mon, Sam.  For me."  Then his 
eyes widened as he pressed his hand link desperately.  His image 
began to fade.  "Gooshie!  Don't let me fa..."  He was gone in an instant.
	"AL!"  Sam almost began groping at the space Al had once been.  
He closed his eyes and forced himself calm, steadying his breathing and 
trying to relax.  It was a long while before he could open his eyes.  
Michelle was standing in a corner in astonishment, staring at him in a 
mix of disbelief and fear.  Sam had to smile a little.  He had to have 
looked more than a little strange just then.  "Al's a hologram that 
communicated with me.  Only I can see and hear him."
	Michelle nodded.  "Right."
	Sam walked around the perimeter of the room, trying to stop his 
shaking.  "What we've got to figure out now is how to get out of here," 
he pronounced as firmly as possible.
	Michelle managed a small smile.  "Yeah."  She looked towards 
the ceiling.  "How come Lothos isn't trying to stop us?"
	Sam followed her gaze, startled.  "That's right...  He must be off-
line for some reason.  He'd never deliberately ignore us.  Well, that 
makes our job a little easier.  Now we just have to..."  The door ground 
open.  Michelle and Sam turned.
	DeLuce walked in, regal and haughty.  "Come, Thames.  We 
have to go."
	Sam frowned.  He glanced towards the mirrored walls and the 
African American man reflected there.  "Thames?  But..."  She had to 
know.  Why was she pretending?  One possible answer that Sam saw 
over her shoulder were two guards, not the same ones as before, 
watching intently.
	"Stop fooling around!  We have work to do!"  She glanced back at 
the guards, as if asking for objections.  The guards, smart enough and 
experienced enough not to question her or ask why Thames was in 
there in the first place, kept their mouths shut.
	Sam's face set as he tried to prepare for the role suddenly foisted 
on him.  "Well, all right.  That's enough... interrogation for now."  He 
gave Michelle a desperate look.  She seemed to grasp its meaning, 
retreating towards the back of the room, whimpering.
	DeLuce approached Michelle with a hard look on her face.  "Play 
along," she whispered.  She then lashed out with a violent slap that 
missed by a mile, but Michelle was a quick thinker, staggering 
backwards and collapsing to the floor.  The guards, several feet away in 
a room humming with machinery, were apparently fooled, for they 
grinned.  DeLuce knelt by Michelle.  "Don't worry," she whispered 
again, "just sit tight.  You'll be free soon."  She got up and turned back 
to Sam.  "Ready, Thames?"
	"Ready."  Trying to keep his confidence up, he strode out of the 
room with DeLuce, casting a contemptuous look on the guards, hoping it 
was in character.  It was, as both stepped back, cringing more than a 
little.  Sam sweated all the way out of the room.  When the elevator 
doors finally closed behind them, he let out a deep sigh of relief.  Then 
he turned on DeLuce.  His hand darted out, pressing a large red switch.  
The elevator ground to a halt.  "All right," he said urgently, "what's 
going on?  Why did we go through that?"
	DeLuce smiled a bit.  Without saying a word, she reached out 
and touched Sam's hand.  A spark of electricity seemed to run between 
them, and DeLuce's face warped and shifted.  Her hair grew shorter and 
lighter, and her cheekbones lowered, her eyes changed color, until the 
woman standing before Sam was a totally different person.
	Sam gasped.  "A-Alia...?"

Concluded in part 6...