From: TajuddinA@aol.com
Date: Wed, 1 Jan 1997 14:29:54 -0500
Message-ID: <970101142953_1558176567@emout08.mail.aol.com>
Subject: child 7/10

"Like As a Child" pt. VII

  Dr. Verbeena Beeks really hated to disturb Al after all of her fussing that
he get some sleep, but she knew this he would want to know. 
  His phone rang at 5:00 AM and Al stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen,
wishing he had had a chance to hook up the phone in his bedroom. "Calavicci."
  "Al? It's Verbeena. I have something here I _know_ you'll want to see.
Tina's on her way over there, so there's no need to get Callie up, but you'd
better hurry."
  "Okay, okay," he grumbled, his voice made even more gravelly than usual due
to the sleep still clinging onto it. He wiped a hand across his face to erase
his exhaustion from his expression. "I'll be there soon."
  By the time Al had taken a shower and dressed, Tina was already there and
had a fresh pot of coffee brewing. He looked dully at her. "You expect that
to keep me awake?" he demanded, pointing to the coffee maker.
  Tina got up with exaggerated expression, crossed the kitchen, and gave him
a long kiss. When she was finished, she looked at him from under long lashes.
"How was that?"
  "That'll work." She smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek before pulling
away. "Good. Then you'd better get moving. Dr. Beeks was pretty insistant
that you hurry."
  He threw up his hands. "I'm gone. And, Tina?"
  "Yes?"
  "Sweetheart, you and I have _got_ to find some time to ourselves." He heard
her shouts of agreement as he went out to the car and acknowledged them with
a wry grin.
  "What is it, Verbeena?" he asked moments later as he walked into her
office. If Verbeena was concerned about something, it was worth hurrying to
find out what. She was rarely prone to exaggeration.
  "Take a look at this," she said, swiveling the monitor in his direction.
  He pulled up a chair and peered at the screen. It was a newspaper article.

     "In a tragic accident yesterday, four people were killed in an attempted
robbery. Kemet Electronics, in recent cuts, laid off Ms. Jody Hawkins
yesterday and, under apparant mental stress, she killed three people in a
grocery store. She then turned the gun on herself and took her own life. The
three victims were Jennifer Shipley, Dawn Lesaldo, and Chris Walton, who had
been a fellow co-worker at Kemet. Hawkins had a son who has been placed in
the custody of neighbors for temporary arrangements. Officials are uncertain
how the woman got ahold of a gun, but a trace revealed it was not registered
in her name and the owner has asked that he not be named. In a....."

  Al turned away, unable to finish reading. A cold hand gripped him, twisting
his stomach inside of him. "What are the odds?" he asked in a dry voice.
  "98.7" Ziggy responded in hushed tones.
  "Time?"
  "0643."
  Al nodded. "I'm gonna go see Sam." He sat a couple of seconds to compose
himself and then got up. He had to do that every time he found out Sam was in
danger, which was almost always, so that he could go in the Imaging Chamber
and be the rock Sam needed him to be. It was a wonder he hadn't killed
himself by now. (Whether this referred to Sam or himself, Al wasn't sure.)
"Fire up the Imaging Chamber," he ordered as Gooshie stepped behind the
console.
  Sam was sitting on a worn-looking couch in someone's living room. Jody's,
Al guessed, thought he didn't see her anywhere. The entire aura of the room
was comfortable, but dark. The furniture was a deep brown, matching the soft
wood walls, and even the carpet was a rich forest green. The curtains were
open, but the dying sun seemed unable to efficively brighten up the place.
The dusk lit the room dully and Sam seemed uncomfortable with it. He ran a
hand across his face. "Comfortable?" Al asked and Sam jumped.
  He rolled his eyes, but didn't even bother to repremand Al, he just gave
him his patented "must you?" look.  "Very much, thank you. Jody's in the
kitchen, getting something to drink, so I really can't talk," Sam said in
hushed tones.
  "That's okay, pal, just listen. You changed history. Now, there's a 98%
chance that she kills two people, you, and herself." He lowered the link and
glanced at Sam, fighting hard to keep a calm expression.
  "That's impossible," Sam hissed. "What do you think I've been doing here,
encourging her to go psychotic?!"
  "Take it easy, Sam. We don't know what exactly caused this. Maybe you said
something to her that she told someone else about and....I don't know! It's
not as easy as all that, Sam. We have no way of knowing why what you're doing
has in inverse effect on her. Only so many things go on record, you know. We
may never know unless she tells us herself. And another thing, nobody knows
where she got the gun from. Ziggy's trying to access the police records and
get the guy's name, but it's buried pretty deep, plus it seems someone tried
to erase it. Something really fishy is going on here."
  "Here you are," Jody said, holding out a glass as she entered the room.
"Were you talking to someone?"
  "What? Oh, no. No, just thinking out loud."
  She sat on the chair across from him and turned on a lamp. "What are you
gonna do, Sam?" Al asked.
  "I don't know."
  "What?" Jody asked with a hesitant smile. Her expression told Al that their
conversation thus far had been a bit uncomfortable.
  "Oh. I don't know how much longer we're going to have this beautiful
weather." 
  Al rolled his eyes. "Nice save, Sam," he commented.
  "I know, it's been wonderful."
  "You know, I was reading an article earlier today about guns in households.
It was shocking; you wouldn't believe how many people have guns in their
homes." Al raised his eyebrows, feeling the weight of his own gun with a
somewhat guilty reassurance. 
  "Subtle, Sam. Real subtle." Sam shot him a brief look of exasperation.
  "I know," Jody said, seizing on the topic with gratitude, which surprised
both Al and Sam. She didn't seem at ease with the dead silence that had
settled around them and was willing to accept even his random introduction of
a new topic as a welcome distraction. "I couldn't imagine having a gun,
especially with Michael around."
  "She could be lying," Al said. Sam gave him a look that said he clearly
didn't agree, and Al had to admit he didn't agree either.
  "I couldn't help but notice this picture over here," Sam continued
casually, getting up to motion to a picture on the wall. "It's lovely."
  Both Al and Jody moved to stand next to him. "Yes, it's a gorgeous picture.
My favorite." The picture was a pencil drawing of Jesus holding a lamb. The
lamb had his head snuggled tightly into His arms with closed eyes and a more
content expression than Sam would have thought possible with mere pencil and
paper.
  "Go for it, Sam," Al urged. "Psychoanalyze away. You do it to me all the
time, why should I be the only lucky one?"
  Sam grinned slightly. "Why do you like it so much?" he asked.
  "Because," she paused, trying to figure out how to express her thoughts.
She lifted a hand to touch the lamb's face. "Because he looks so peaceful,"
she said finally.
  "That's the second time in as many days that you've talked about not having
any peace. Is there something you can't make peace with?"
  She turned quickly to face him, startling the pair. "I think you're onto
something here, pal," Al said.
  "It's nothing you need to concern youself with anyhow," she said with
forced casualness as she turned to sit back down. Sam stifled a startled
glance at the abrupt change in her mood.
  "Wait," Sam said, reaching out to take her arm. This was the first time she
had closed off on him and he was determined to find out why.
  She flinched before he even reached her and then turned a suddenly calm
face towards him. "I really need to get some sleep now," she said quietly.
"It was so nice of you to stop by, but I'm going to have to bid you
goodnight."
  Sam hesitated. "Sam, don't push it," Al advised. "You're liable to get
slapped. Believe me, I know. But it coulda been worse. She could have said
she had a headache." He made an elaborate gesture that earned a grimace from
Sam.
  Sam complied with Al's suggestion, but cut loose on him once they were both
out on the front porch. "Al, now I'll never know what she's hiding. If I had
found out, maybe I could change history and stop what's supposed to happen
tomorrow."
  "Well, for starters, you could do a little work on this end to find out
where she gets the gun."
  "How?" Sam demanded, crossing her lawn out to the car.
  "Try following her from the office tomorrow," Al responded in equally
annoyed tones.
  "And if that doesn't work? How else am I going to bring down 98% odds?"
  "You already have," Al said reassuringly.
  "I have?" Sam asked, stopping in mid gesture.
  "Sure!"
  Sam leaned on the car door. "To?...."
  Al paused. "97," he admitted reluctantly.
  Sam gave him a condesending look. "Oh, great. That's great, Al." The
hologram shrugged helplessly as Sam headed back to Chris's home.

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  The rest of Al's day was passing unbearably slowly. They had tried every
direction they could to find out what Jody Hawkins was hiding, but to no
avail. No psychiatrists, police records, nothing. 
  Al was back at the apartment, but Tina had taken Callie out shopping and
for Tina, that was an all-day affair. It was late afternoon when he got the
phone call. It was Gooshie.
  "Yeah, what do you have, Gooshie?"
  "Well, Admiral, it seems that there were some erased records in the Los
Angles Police Department."
  "Yes?" Al prompted, reclining in his desk drawer. "Did you find out where
to gun came from?"
  "Oh, no, it wasn't that. This was something else entirely. Jody was
involved in some crime about six months ago in which someone was hurt or
maybe even killed and that's absolutely all we know. We don't know who the
victims are, and we don't know her part in it, but, Admiral, someone went to
a lot of trouble to erase these files."
  Al glanced at the clock. It was five in the afternoon....Sam would still be
asleep. "Okay, Gooshie, I'll be back there in about an hour." He hung up and
then paused when he heard the sound of a car pulling up. He went to the
window and looked out. Two men got out of a blue Sedan and went around to the
next apartment. Al shrugged and dialed the number to Tina's cellular phone.