From: aa811@cleveland.freenet.edu (Terri M. Librande)
Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative
Subject: No Escape From Reality  Part 2
Date: 24 Mar 1993 00:00:34 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio (USA)
Lines: 94
Message-Id: <1oo8b2$ckt@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu>
Nntp-Posting-Host: slc5.ins.cwru.edu


Part 2

With great care, Data lifted the unconscious man from the transporter
platform, carrying him through the ship to the Sickbay.  He was not
very tall, the android noted, nor heavy, but muscular and compact.  As
they entered the Sickbay, Dr. Crusher indicated a bed ready for Data's
cargo and he laid the man upon it, stepping back, his eyes not leaving
the newcomer for a second.

"He's human."  Crusher made the statement drily, checking the life support
readings.

"I surmised that, Doctor," Data said, temporarily distracted from his
thoughts.

The doctor gave her friend a grin, sensing his fascination with her patient.
"You say he's from the past?"

"Late 20th Century Earth.  He fell through the Guardian at that precise
sector of time," Data replied, his eyes not leaving his fascinating subject
for a moment.  "Can you imagine what he knows that our historians have lost?
Could it be possible that he is one connected with the displacement fields
that are buffetting the galaxy? The Guardian indicated that may be the 
reason he fell through the portal."

"We'll deal with that when time warrants it, Data," Picard said, half smiling
at his science officer's excitement.  He turned to Worf.  "I want guards
on Sickbay at all times.  We have no idea what his reaction will be when 
he awakes in an alien enviornment."

"That shouldn't be in too long a time," Crusher said, making a notation
on a clipboard.  "His readings are growing stronger."

The form on the bed was stirring, a frown deepening between his eyes as
they cracked open. Greenish eyes took in the people around him, widening
when his vision encountered Worf.  His throat was so dry he could barely
speak. When he did manage it, the sounds were barely above a whisper and
only Dr. Crusher could hear them.

She frowned at the words he spoke.  "Waiting Room?"  She glanced back at
the Captain, her expression bewildered.

"Am I home?"  His voice strengthened. "Is this the Waiting Room?" he 
repeated, eyes widening.  "Where's Al?"

Picard swiftly changed places with the doctor.  "You're not home, but 
we'll do our best to get you back there.  What is your name?"

"Not Home?"  The man stirred restlessly, slamming back on the pillows.
"I just leaped from...San Francisco.  Tamlyn.  1982."  He looked pleadingly
at the Captain, as if he knew he was the one in charge.  "I just want to
go home.  Can you do that?  Send me home?  I'm so tired."

"We might be able to, but we need your name."

Sighing, he felt as if every limb was iron,slow moving and heavy.  All he
wanted was Al, and was uncertain if he should tell his name to this stranger
looming above him.  Where was his Observer?  Could he appear here, in this
strange place?  It didn't look like the Waiting Room he remembered.  First
of all, it was far too large a space, and, secondly, he thought, glancing
at the biggest of the people gathered around him, unless it was Halloween
he didn
he didn't remember anyone them looking quite like the ominous visage near
the guy with the yellow eyes.  Yellow eyes????  Suddenly he was more
than frightened.  He felt himself going into shock.  Something was 
preventing his body from leaving the bed, but he struggled, ignoring the
woman's soothing words.

"I'm going to sedate him," Crusher said, slippiing a hypo from her
tray and expertly injecting it through the tight material ofthe white
jumpsuit he wore.  Instantly, he settled back into unconsciousness, his
agitated features still prominent, mouth half open, looking agonized and
upset.  "He's very confused, Captain."  Crusher pressed her lips together,
glancing at her commander.

"We need name, damn it, and how he arrived here.  Data, did he say 1982?"

"Yes, sir."  Data broke his concentration from the images that flickered
across his tricorder.  "San Francisco, Tamlyn.  I presume that is a name,
and the city of origin.  I will do checks, but I wish to stay with our
patient until he regains consciousness."

Picard sighed, an ironic smile playing across his lips.  "Our ship is
being buffetted by the time disturbance, and this gentlemen shows up..."
Annoyance clouded his features at the more than odd occurance, all 
happening at once.  "It looks to me that we have a real life time
traveller on our hands."

More to come...
-- 
"Girls who have glasses have lots & lots of energy!" Al--Single Drop of Rain
Terri Librande aa811@cleveland.Freenet.edu--Assistant Sysop
The Science Fiction and Fantasy Sig--Go SCIFI