From: Philippa Chapman (Glastonbury, Somerset, UK.) Date: Sun, 23 Feb 1997 15:00 +0000 Subject: Looking-glass Limbo, part 5/10 LOOKING-GLASS LIMBO PART 5 I was backstage in a Theater. Again! I could tell from the smells, the ambience, the scenery flats. Somewhere in front of me a moderately sized orchestra was in the process of tuning to A. An large, jolly man bustled up and tapped me on the shoulder. "Break a leg, mate! Don't you worry, you sounded great to *me* yesterday. To tell the truth, this director's got it in for Baritones. You'll make a wonderful Figaro!" . I duly followed the noise, examining my clothes as I did so. Trainers, jog pants and top in navy and a T-shirt underneath that declared 'Opera North' in slightly faded characters. Then I found a mirror. My host was tall, thin and with jet black hair and close cropped beard. Hazel eyes, a straight nose and the general look of one of the knights of the round table who'd been on a diet recently. Not bad, all things considered. I could have been a huge tenor or, even worse, a Brunnhilde-type soprano. I smiled, trying to figure out what Al's reaction would be to *that*. Getting the high notes would be right out for a start. As I walked, my brain clicked in. Trainers. 1980's onwards, maybe even 90's. Close to home in some respects. I found a door that led onto the auditorium. Wow! Plush seats, chandeliers and acres of gold leaf. This place was a virtual palace. I made my way over to the orchestra pit, trying very hard not to rubberneck at the decor. Aha! Mozart's 'Marriage of Figaro'. Now to find my dressing room and do some quick homework. Surely my host would still have his score somewhere around? I was wandering around backstage, trying to guess which dressing room was mine, when Al came through the wall and about six female chorus members at the same time. He paused to give them a visual once-over, then he tore his attention away to indicate which direction I should go with his right hand. We didn't speak until we were safely behind the correct dressing-room door. "Oh, boy, Sam have you fallen on your feet this time! You're host is Francis Weatherby, but his stage name is Francisco Giovanni. We've had the most difficult time back in the waiting room; this guy seems to be succeeding in his ambition of working through the entire female population around him!" "Sounds like someone I know," I retorted. "Even I never tried to hit on Beena. This guy's not only done that but has got her responding. And she knows exactly what he's up to as well!" "Well, she's a grown woman, Al. But.....doesn't she see *him* as *me*?" "Not since he touched and caressed her. And yes, that was right after he leaped in and saw her *and* right in front of the rest of us. At least *I'd* save that till I was behind closed doors! Anyway, the end of all this is the fact that this Francis guy has already got to know most of the women in this opera who are available; hey it's Covent Garden in London! And the date is July 19th 1992. This guy's a lucky devil! If only you'd use situations like this to your advantage, Sam. Most of the women out there are in their late twenties to upper thirties, beautiful and eager." Al shook his head despairingly. The imp inside me decided to get my own back. "You know something, Al?" I gave him as sleazy a smile as I could manage,"For once I think you're right. I'm going to *enjoy* myself while I'm here." I should watch my mouth sometimes, fate has a nasty habit of calling my bluff. A woman with strawberry blonde hair burst in the room. She was wearing a 17th century costume which was rather low cut. She ran across the room, sitting on my lap before I could think. Then she kissed me. Passionately. For a split second I thought I tasted something far too cloying and sweet like honey, then she became dry white wine and sheer intoxication. I responded with almost uncharacteristic enthusiasm. She felt so good in my arms, almost as if she belonged there.....just like Viola had done. And, in my dreams, when I had imagined the taste of Viola's mouth, it had been just like this. Only the reality was about ten times better. When she finally pulled away I looked into her eyes and almost yelled. It *was* Viola I now held in my arms and, I realised, her kiss and her mouth that I had just experienced. Part of me felt as guilty as hell, a second part was aching for more and a third, terribly rational part started to ask just who it was that Viola thought she had been kissing. She smiled, half shy and embarrassed down at me. "You did *ask* me to come to your dressing room and surprise you, didn't you, Sam? You said all those beautiful things to me earlier today. Er...perhaps I shouldn't have taken you quite so literally?" I gaped, completely at loss for words. Viola's nearness was severely fogging up my concentration. I tried very hard not to look, but I was being acquainted with curves that until now I'd only been dimly aware of. I could also *feel* Al standing behind me, enjoying my torture. I decided to be honest. Then perhaps I could see if I'd got a really bad case of Swiss Cheesed brain going on. "Look, er....Viola, I don't know how to say this, but I'm not normally the type of guy who would invite a woman to....um...pounce on him after such a short time. No matter how beautiful she is. I'd only just come to the decision during the last leap that it would be better for both of us to remain friends. I like you far too much to hurt anyone who might be waiting for you to come home." I held her upper arms and looked as earnestly and truthfully into her face as I could. She blushed vivid beetroot as she understood, climbed off me as rapidly as decency would allow and wrapped herself in Francis' dressing gown. She sat down on the nearby sofa and I saw her go white with shock. "Then who is it that I spoke to this morning and got myself half-way persuaded by the words he said?" Viola put a trembling hand to her lips,"He even *kissed* me....and that should have alerted me. His kiss is *nothing* like yours. It's skilful, even masterful, but nowhere *near* the overwhelming oneness that we've shared." I was stunned. I had a good idea that our kisses had been just as good for her and now I knew for sure. This was going to make resisting her much worse. I realised that she had to say these things for her own sake as much as anything else and put a firm lid on my own desires. "I don't know how, but it wasn't me, Viola. It seems that you were mistaken." Viola shook her head in bewilderment. "I can't understand it. He looked like you, sounded like you and he certainly didn't change when I touched him, like last time......Oh, my God!" she looked at me, her face white as a sheet,"Is it possible that a leaper could disguise himself that well? To be so good a copy that he *didn't* change when I touched him? What would happen to his aura? Don't say that it's possible; I could hardly bear it if I thought that *he* had found me again." I was way ahead of her. I looked up at Al for help. "Well, Sam, it's beyond our capacity back home, but if these evil leapers come from our future, maybe they could have found a way around the aura problem." I nodded grimly and went over to Viola, taking her hands in mine. "I promise that I'm not going to leave your side until we find out exactly what's going on here. If it's who we think it is, he's got me to deal with personally. You could say I've got a score to settle with him myself. Tell me, did you see me as *me* when you entered the room, before you touched me?" Viola nodded,"And could you see Al?" Viola looked up at my friend. "No, I don't think so, not until you started talking to me. I don't think I'd have kissed you like I did in front of a witness." "Then we've got problems. *Somebody *may be tampering with either Ziggy or Scherzo or both from the future. It could have long-term ramifications on our ever getting home safely. Al, I hate to do this to you, but we've got to pull the links between the two computers until we know that Thames has been defeated." Al sighed, then shrugged philosophically. "Don't worry about it, Sam. I really thought I'd begun to crack things with Beatrice, but I can't even contact her on the phone. I've sent letters and flowers with no response." Viola looked up in surprise. "That is definitely *not* like the Bea I know. If she'd received anything, she would at least have written an acknowledgement. I think there may be a bigger spanner in the works than we thought." At that moment, the lady in question arrived. Al launched into a barrage of Italian and Beatrice raised an eyebrow. I pulled Viola to one end of the room. "Do you understand what he said? I caught something about bacia and labro." Viola smiled warmly. "Enough to get the gist. He definitely used the phrase 'se quel bel labro bacia potro'. Of course, Beatrice speaks it fluently, but I don't think she's let on to Al yet. I think she's waiting to reveal her Italian step-mother at an opportune moment! Basically, he said that he wishes he could claim one kiss from her lips. It was very romantically put." I strained my ears to catch what Al was saying now. I certainly hadn't heard him translate his Italian. "Beatrice, I promise, I sent you all those things. We've all come to the conclusion that *something* or *someone* is fouling up the works." "Well, I'm not sure that I believe you about the gifts, but there is something uncanny going on around here. For a start, I'm reading *two* Sams; one here and another on stage singing Figaro." Beatrice tapped her handlink hard against her arm as if it was an egg she was trying to break open, but the three of us were already on the move. Viola and I burst onto the stage almost simultaneously from the rear stage right 'doors'. Al was already there, waiting, his eyes gleaming fiercely at a man who had his back to us. Then he whirled around and this time I *did* yell. The orchestra screeched to a halt and I heard several gasps. This other man -whoever he was - couldn't have been more like me if he'd been my twin brother. Could there be *two* Sam Becketts somehow? Maybe this guy was okay, maybe he really *had* come on to Viola genuinely. God knows, part of me wanted to - if I knew that we were free to love each other nothing on Earth would have held me back. Then I remembered all the 'interference' and my eyes narrowed speculatively. The doppleganger broke into an evil smile and I knew *exactly* who he was. "Thames! You *must* be Thames!" He acknowledged my deduction with a slight nod of his head as we moved closer together. I was near the peak of my physical powers *this* time. As he grabbed me, his features melted into the ones I remembered only too well from the hell-hole in the Lebanon. Viola gasped and began to kick Thames'legs from behind. "You bastard!" Thames managed to turn around to face her. "Two against one, my dear? That's hardly fair.....but you always look so incredibly sexy when you're angry. Your breasts are heaving most attractively." I got him in an elbow lock around his neck and threw him to the floor, then gave him my best right hand punch right on the jaw. It hurt like hell, but boy, did it feel *good*. I felt Viola sit on his legs behind me. "I hope you knocked him out." I took a look. "Yep, dead to the world, but not for long......he'll be round soon." Viola began to shake with delayed shock and several members of the orchestra had climbed on the stage to see what was going on. How to explain what I was doing to Thames to onlookers was going to be a bit of a problem. "My goodness, Francis, this man looks and sounds just like you. We had absolutely no idea that he was an impostor." I looked up into the face of the leader of the orchestra. He was a clean-shaven man somewhere between thirty and forty with dark brown hair and slightly stocky, but he moved with a certain grace and bearing. Al helped me out. "He's called Brendan; Irish mother." I smiled up at the man. "It's a mistake anyone could have made," ,"I have reason to believe he may have been following me for some time, impersonating me for his own benefit." Al's eyes lit up immediately. "I can think of over twenty luscious fringe benefits I could help myself to with his reputation." My eyebrows raised in disbelief as the security for the theater began to cuff Thames and haul him away. "*All* twenty?" Al preened, was about to boastfully answer in the affirmative when he saw Beatrice. His face still exuded blatant sexual interest, but it was tempered by deep longing, almost yearning. "I'd pass them all up for one night in Beatrice's arms." "Believe me, Al, you'd never survive one night in *my* arms." Al deliberately misinterpreted Beatrice's brush-off. He moved closer to her. "Bellissima, if you are *that* passionate, I'll gladly be your love- slave." Beatrice's face broke into a surprising and amused smile and she shook her head slowly. "Al, you're *impossible*! What *am* I going to do with you?" Al was definitely about to give her some detailed suggestions, but I cut him off. I could hear Viola sniggering behind me. Good, that meant the shock had worn off. "Stop it, Al! Save it till later, okay? I just want to know what we do *now*? I know that Thames has only been stopped temporarily." Al and Beatrice consulted their handlinks. Their expressions changed to ones of guarded concern. "Beatrice and Al are very alike in some ways, aren't they?" Viola commented. "It doesn't look good, Sam," Al began,"That slimeball will shortly come round, break out of the handcuffs and go on a killing spree outside this theater that will make Jack the Ripper look like a Sunday school picnic." Viola and I broke into another run, out of the side entrance of the theater and round towards the front. I could hear Al and Beatrice ahead of us, yelling at us both to hurry. Several of the orchestra followed us, including Brendan. When we reached the corner of the building, I stopped, motioning everyone to stay behind me and cautiously looked round. It was just like Al had predicted. Thames could move fast if he put his mind to it. His cuffs were hanging off one wrist, the two security guards were down and he had a gun in his hands. There were people still scattering and diving for cover. Behind a bench I could make out the unmistakable uniform of a British police officer. He had drawn his weapon too, and was watching Thames intently. "Put your weapon down, sonny. I've already signalled for reinforcements and you'll shortly be outnumbered. Don't do anything rash, now." Thames calmly levelled his gun straight at the policeman and let off two deafening shots. One glanced off the horizontal slats in the bench, but the other got between them and hit the policeman in the face. He fell backwards with blood streaming down his cheek and his gun lay useless at his side. Thames advanced, swift and silent like a panther towards the extra weapon. I began to edge my way round the building, hoping for a chance to jump Thames from behind, but Viola beat me to it. She ran noiselessly past me and threw herself on Thames' back. I heard his gun go off a third time and I screamed. I was with them in seconds, angry and terrified. Beatrice was there already, trying to see what had happened. Viola picked herself slowly off Thames' back. I bent down to help her. "My God, are you alright? He could have killed you." Viola stood up. The skirt of her dress was ripped, but she was unharmed. I pulled her into my arms and hugged her. I tried to keep the tone of my voice light, but I was trembling inside,"Please, the next time you try that, warn me first, okay? I'm not used to other leapers being heroic." Thames suddenly jumped to his feet and ran off across the square. I immediately started to give chase. I heard Viola doing *something* with her ripped skirt and then her footsteps followed mine. I saw drops of blood on the ground at irregular intervals. Thames had shot himself, but not badly. Other footsteps fell in some way behind and I could hear sirens in the distance. I didn't take my eyes off Thames for one moment. He must have the constitution of an ox to keep going like this. I saw him jump into a stationary taxi, making the original occupant get out. I flagged down another one and elbowed my way through several people to get in. I felt like a heel for jumping the queue like this, but it was an emergency. Viola got into the other door just after me. "My goodness, you must be a fast runner!" Viola grinned. "I had to win a middle distance race on one of my leaps. That and my determination to keep up with you helped an awful lot." I turned to the cabby. "Does the phrase 'follow that cab' seem familiar?" "Long as you've got the fare guv, I'll drive you anywhere you bloomin' well like. He an escaped bank robber or summat? Are you C.I.D.?" "Yes," Viola helpfully supplied,"And that man just shot a policeman, too." The cabby swore energetically and fluently. "If there's one fing I can't stand it's cop killers. Don't you worry, old 'Arry won't lose him. I was the best in my class wiv the 'knowledge'." Viola and I clung on as Harry started to follow Thames. After a little while, Al joined us and 'sat' on the seat beside Viola. She closed the glass between us and Harry so that we could talk more easily. "Are you alright, kid? You gave us quite a fright back there for a moment." We both nodded and Viola smiled. "Yes, I'm fine; just winded that's all." Al looked her over carefully. "Hmmm, nice pants!" I looked Viola properly. She had torn her skirt off and was wearing long, cotton elasticated under-drawers with lace round the bottom. "Oh, *these*. It's very difficult running fast in a long skirt, so I ditched it. It was half off, anyway." "I've had problems with skirts myself," I confessed,"And high heels are *agony*, I don't know how you can bear them." Viola's smile grew wider. "Actually, I don't wear them much myself; being a tall lady - men find women taller than them a little intimidating." The car swerved around a left hand bend and two of us hung on for dear life. Beatrice appeared in the car and I could tell at a glance that she'd been crying. She looked at Viola with concern. "Did that bastard *do* anything to you, Viola?" Viola shook her head and reaffirmed that she was okay. Al hadn't missed Beatrice's expression. "Don't you worry, Beatrice, bella mia. You've got two extra pairs of eyes looking out for Viola now. If *only* I could hold you." A soft smile crossed Beatrice's face and she moved over and sat down *through* Al, whose face broke out into a grin of pure delight. He turned to me. "When you get home again, you've simply *got* to find a way of making holograms solid. I'm going through a mixture of pleasure and torment here." Beatrice turned her face towards Al's and kissed where his cheek should be. He moved instinctively and for a second it almost looked as if their lips touched. There was a blinding flash and then they both disappeared. The cab suddenly came to a screeching halt. Thames had got out of his taxi in the middle of a queue ahead and was running off through the crowds. I pulled out a couple of notes and shoved them at the driver as we followed. "Cor blimey, thank you Guv! I'll buy the missus champagne tonight!" "You just gave him the best part of L50, Sam; for a L10 ride." I shrugged dismissively as we began to give chase again. I could smell water ahead. Of course, the river Thames! Well, if he ended up in *that*, it would have a certain poetic justice. We came out on a wide road overlooking the river. Thames turned left, towards a train station where the line crossed the river. "Blackfriars!" Viola panted,"There's a bridge just ahead." But *our* Thames ignored the road bridge and headed for the railway station. We pounded across the station concourse after Thames who ran down one of the platforms past the guard. Luckily he let us through as well. I could see him pressing an emergency button as we passed. Thames ran to the end of the platform and kept on going, but he was beginning to flag. He turned towards us and levelled his gun for a shot. Viola and I dived for cover as the bullet whined past us. Thames nimbly jumped over the rails to the next platform. I was about to follow him, when Viola tugged my arm urgently. "Don't, Sam. Some of those lines are electrified." Thames began to shin up one of the poles that held the station canopy in place. I could finally see where he'd been hit. There was a line of blood down the right side of his face and some of his hair on that side was missing. The bullet must have just skimmed him. He reached a cross-bar about twenty feet off the ground and took aim at us again. "He's got two bullets left - I *think* that's a six shooter." "Okay, then we split up. He can't hit both of us if we're going in different directions." Viola began to move away, rolling and diving as she went. I heard one shot that ricocheted off the concrete of the platform. One down, one to go. * *A second shot and a yell. I looked up, expecting the worst, but it was a policeman who had arrived under Thames. Blood poured from his shoulder as he hit the platform. With his dying breath, he lifted his arm and got off a shot at Thames. I watched as Thames ducked instinctively as the bullet came very close, then he slipped, lost his grip and fell down onto the rails beneath with a sickening thud. A shower of sparks shot up, then dreadful silence. Viola and I stood up. Her face was white and she was shaking. I crossed the distance between us as fast as I could and held her in my arms. She began to sob quietly and I felt the dampness from her tears soaking through my jumper. I stroked her hair, suddenly at a loss for words. Viola's tears stopped and I felt her pull away from me slightly. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "Oh, God Sam, I'm sorry. It was like he was looking right through me all over again," she glanced over to where the emergency services were gathering on the other platform,"He tried to....to rape me...*last* time." Such honesty demanded only one response. "And me, Viola." Her eyes flicked up to mine, full of concern. "Oh, my dear friend....." She wrapped her arms around me and I *felt* strength and empathy flooding through my body. We held each other until Al showed up again. Al looked straight at me. "He's gone, Sam. No-one could have survived that fall and the electrocution. The emergency services never found the body - I guess his buddies took it back to save any awkward questions. They said in the official report that it was vaporised, which is as good an explanation as they're going to get......Are you both okay now?" His eyes were suddenly full of concern at Viola's pallor. "Thank-you, Al, you're a very kind man. I just don't think I'll ever get used to seeing people die; even people like *him*," Viola began to smile and her color started to return,"Anyway, didn't you just kiss Beatrice at last?" Al smiled widely at both of us. "It almost felt like it. Just for a moment I could have *sworn* I felt her lips on mine, then there was this massive jolt of something like static electricity right through me and I found myself in the Imaging Chamber with my lips and the rest of my body tingling. I think I can safely say that no woman's ever had *that* effect on me before!" "Well, of course, hen. I'm unique! Viola, are you alright? I would have stayed with you if Al hadn't kissed me like that." Viola raised her eyebrows. "You mean that you got 'zapped' too? Did it feel like static to you?" Beatrice nodded, and I saw pleasure in her eyes before her face became a polite mask for Al. I couldn't stand aloof any longer. "Al, she's crazy about you and I *know* you're crazy about her. All it needs is for one of you to swallow your pride and cross the Atlantic. Go have a holiday together or something. I guess you could both do with a little romance in your lives." Al and Beatrice stared at me, then each other. For a moment their masks dropped and a look of desire passed between them, then just as swiftly, the shutters came across again. Al turned back to me. "Sam, thank-you. But as much as I would like nothing better than to drop everything and go to Beatrice, I can't leave you out here without contact. You know Gushie's link isn't good enough to cope for any length of time. I should have made a proper back-up with you, but you leaped too soon." I almost told him that I *had* been alone in time, but I knew that would only worry him and get into areas that I didn't want to talk about, not yet, not with him. "Well, at least promise us you will make time for each other one day," Viola urged. "The minute you get back safely, I'll be on that aeroplane," Beatrice promised. Al's face was a wonderful mixture of delight and surprise. "*You're *going to come to *me*?" Beatrice smiled disarmingly. "I've never been to the States before. I shall need someone to show me around." Viola and I grinned at Al's stunned face as we leaped.