From: FNYK09A@prodigy.com (Gary Himes)
Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative
Subject: TO FIGHT THE UNBEATABLE FOE 6/7
Date: 30 Jun 1995 18:27:33 GMT
Message-Id: <3t1fml$1oss@usenetw1.news.prodigy.com>

And now we rejoin Sam Beckett, even further up shit creek than he was 
previously...

           Twilight was fading, the deep blue sky giving way to a
curtain of darkness sprinkled by thousands of stars.  Zoey
hovered in the air about twenty yards above the radio tower,
watching as Chandler and his cronies shoved Erin Clemens into
the utility shed at its base and locked her in.  None of them
bothered to look upwards, not that they could have spotted
her in the gathering blackness.
     Determined not to be surprised again, she had taken up a
position to scan the area before plunging in.  The radio
tower sat in the middle of a wide, flat field separated from
a line of trees by about two hundred yards.  A single dirt
road wound to the tower which had a utility shack and two
satellite dishes at its base.  Otherwise there didn't seem to
be any sign of civilization for five miles in any direction.
     Though she knew she should go forward with her
assignment, Zoey hesitated to leave the night sky.  The
sensation of flight was exhilarating, the dizzy perspective
that of a bird of prey.  She imagined herself, cloaked in
night, as a force of nature--invincible, unstoppable,
irresistible.  She could feel an almost orgasmic delight in
the near-limitless photonic power permeating her every cell.
     I am a god, she thought. The god of predators.
     Below, her prey awaited
     Slowly she began to descend towards them.

                          * * * * *

     Sam Beckett drove his host's land rover at breakneck
speed down the suburban streets.  As he passed the outskirts
of Briarwood the scientist looked down at the road map from
Jeffcoate's glove compartment.  Best as he could judge the
radio tower was about six miles out of town.  He hoped he had
read it right;  there was no time for wrong turns.
     He pressed the accelerator to the floor, causing the
rover's engine to roar in protest.  Jeffcoate's watch gave
him less than ten minutes before the deadline.  Funny, he
thought, that a time traveller like himself always seemed to
be racing the clock.  As he mentally counted off the minutes
he had left, a old quote drifted through his mind: you can't
kill time without injuring eternity.
     Injuring eternity.  That was the whole raison d'etre for
the evil leapers, although the why of it escaped him.  He
knew that first Alia, then later Zoey were determined to
destroy what happiness and stability existed in the world.
Alia had done it unwillingly, enslaved by the torments
visited by her master Lothos.  But Zoey--she loved it.  No
enticements were necessary to force her to ruin people's
lives.  The sheer vicious thrill of it was enough.  He could
never understand that type of malevolence or the thrill of
mastery that drove her.  No alien could have a point of view
farther from his own.
     However, there was one thing that was definitely not a
mystery--what Zoey would do to him if she got the chance.
That she hated Sam Beckett there was no doubt.  But there was
more to it than that; her master Lothos, whatever it was, had
ordered Sam's death, apparently to protect their monopoly on
time travel.  The scientist had no idea what the computer's
ultimate goal was, but it certainly wasn't anything
beneficial for mankind.  Sam couldn't escape the thought that
every time the evil leapers succeeded the world drew closer
to some horrible fate.  Stopping them was probably the most
important assignment he had ever had.
     And then a curious idea came to him;  maybe everything
he had ever put right, THEY had originally put wrong.  It
would certainly explain a lot.
     More chillingly, the possibility existed that they were
putting wrong everything HE had put right.  That concept
shook him even more.
     How much damage had they already done?  Had they been
Jeffrey Dahmer?  David Koresh?  Saddam Hussein?  Did they
mastermind the Challenger disaster?  Assassinate Martin
Luther King?  Create the AIDS virus?
     His eyes unexpectedly began to sting and he ran his
sleeve over his face, wiping away the wave of cold sweat
streaming down his forehead.  This was no time for
theorizing.  He might not know who Zoey truly was, why she
wanted to change history, or how anyone could find delight in
such monstrous acts, but there was one thing he did know:
Zoey was evil, and given the opportunity she would kill him
in the most painful and lingering way her sadistic mind could
conceive.
     And let's not forget she's got the power to do it, he
added banefully.  With Andrew's might at her disposal she
could swat missles out of the sky.
     The tip of the radio tower's antenna peaked over the
horizon, the sight sending another wave of nausea through
him.  He didn't want to die.  Despite all the times he had
faced death, Sam had never truly imagined he would perish on
a leap.  Once he had even stuck his head in a noose, daring
the Klu Klux Klan to hang him, secure in the knowledge he
would survive.  Other times he had leaped away from doom at
the last second.
     But this was different.  Zoey was the yin to his yang,
his twisted mirror image.  Together they formed a whole which
could only bring about mutually assured destruction.  He
sensed instuitively that she could kill him if given the
opportunity.
     He wished Al was with him; stripped of his partner he
felt terribly vulnerable.  And the idea he would never see
his friend again was a painful one.  He always imagined when
the end came they would at least have the chance to say
good-bye.
     Pulling the jeep onto a side road Sam noticed a posted
sign:  WQTM TRANSMITTER 2 MILES - NO TRESSPASSING.  He
pressed onward, determined that if this was to be his final
leap he would face it as he had faced all his challenges.
Like a man.

                          * * * * *

     "Hello, boys,"  Zoey said in her best bawdy Mae West-
impression.
     Chandler and his thugs whirled around in surprise, their
faces masks of comical astonishment.  They had been watching
the single access road, not expecting anyone to come at them
from behind.
     "Where'd you come from?!"  Chandler demanded, using
anger to cover his shock.
     "Oh, I just dropped in,"  the villainness replied
nonchalantly.
     "Yeah?"  Chandler motioned for his gang to form a circle
around their victim.  "Well, now you're gonna drop dead!"
     As the boys tightened their circle inwards toward her
Zoey had to resist the urge to laugh.  Even without super
powers she knew at least a dozen martial arts moves to
counter such a clumsy, obvious attack.  She hadn't seen
anything so amateurish since she had incited the beating of
Rodney King.
     Chandler feinted awkwardly, giving two of his thugs an
opportunity to grab "Andrew" by each arm.  Zoey allowed them
to hold her fast as their leader moved in for the kill.
     "This is for that karate fu shit you pulled on me
before!"  Chandler shouted as he raised one meaty paw.  With
a roar he let it fly towards Zoey's face.
     At the last second the evil leaper dropped to her knees,
pulling her captors together so that their heads collided
with an audible THUNK.  As their eyes crossed in pain
Chandler's fist connected, knocking both of them unconcious.
     Releasing their hands Zoey came up in one fluid motion
and caught Chandler by his collar.  Effortlessly she hauled
him off his feet and dangled him in the air.  His two
remaining cohorts gaped at the site of their chief so easily
overcome.
     "Do you know what I dislike about you?"  Zoey asked
petulantly.  "It's not that you prey on the weak, or that
you're basically a violent primitive;  it's just that you
lack finesse--the sophistication to truly appreciate the
strategems and deceptions of the TRULY powerful."
     Chandler gurgled incoherently.  Zoey took it as an
interrogative.
     "Well, of course I'm going to kill you!"  She replied
testily.  "Why do you think I came here, you silly boy?  To
rescue that little twit Erin Clemens?"  A pinprick annoyed
her right hip and she turned to see Mick standing there with
the remains of a switchblade, the blade snapped in half
against Andrew's invulnerable hide.  He stared at it with an
expression more stupid than usual.
     Zoey wagged an admonishing finger.  "Naughty, naughty!"
With her free hand she grabbed Mick by the face and tossed
him onto the last gang member.  They both went down in a pile
of sprawled limbs.
     Turning her attention back to Chandler, Zoey noticed
that his face had assumed a purplish tint.  "Feeling a bit
winded?  Maybe what's called for here...is a little open
heart massage."
     Her hand came up to Chandler's chest and began to close
over the thoracic cavity.  His eyes bulged in horror as he
realized his victimizer's intention, while Zoey's features
twisted into a smile that was outright demonic in the fading
twilight.
     Then the world seemed to turn white.
     The flash caught Zoey off guard, her eyes snapping
closed to protect retinas that, while virtually
indestructible when it came to physical forces, were still
vulnerable to a sudden shock to the optic nerve.
Instinctively she brought up both hands to shield her face,
dropping Chandler on his butt.
     Shapes vaguely took form as her irises adjusted to the
brightness.  Zoey peaked through her fingers and managed to
make out two glowing orbs with a dark verticle form standling
between them.  She blinked and realized she was looking at a
man standing before a jeep with its headlights on bright.
     "Leave him alone,"  a familiar voice commanded.
     "Jeffcoate?"  Zoey said, amazed.  "I do declare, you
make more comebacks than Chevy Chase!  Let me finish with
this idiot and I'll get to you next."  She reached down for a
gasping Chandler, then froze at the sound of a single word.
     "Zoey!"
     The evil leaper snapped to attention as the scientist's
squat figure leaped back behind the jeep's wheel.  He had
spoken her name.  There was only one way that Jeffcoate could
know her true identity...
     Sam Beckett reved the jeep's motor and set it at a dead
run towards Zoey.  He doubted the impact would do more than
stun her, but at this point anything was worth a try.
     Devon Chandler rolled out of the way as the jeep's grill
shattered on Zoey.  The force knocked her across the field
and into the side of the utility shed.  She grimaced, the
wind knocked out of her.
     Pressing his advantage, Sam jumped from the driver's
seat with a tire iron in hand.  Invulnerable or not, she had
to have a weak spot.
     Sam swung the tire iron like a bat, intending to bring
it down between his adversary's glassy eyes.  For a second it
looked as if he might connect, but then a hand shot out and
caught the iron in mid-swing and held it fast.
     Briefly they grappled, Sam's two hands to Zoey's one.
Then the iron was torn from Sam's hands and tossed across the
field, impacting with a tree so hard it was actually driven
through the trunk. Sam watched it fly, then turned back to
see Zoey struggle to her feet.
     For a beat the two enemies regarded each other, Sam's
expression desperate and Zoey's a mask of anger.  Furtively
Sam backed away, seeking some opening, but before he could
finish a second step a steely grip closed on his wrist.
     From their respective perspectives the forms or Andrew
Clemens and Benjamin Jeffcoate seemed to shift and convulse,
Andrew's becoming a beautiful red-haireed woman with
saturnine features while Jeffcoate's changed to a taller,
fitter man with light brown hair.  Sam Beckett and Zoey
stared at each other's true forms, all illusions finally
dispelled.
     "BECKETT!"  Zoey cried, her eyes alive with malevolent
joy.  "At last!"
     Caught fast and with exactly one second to act, Sam
brought both legs up and kicked directly against Zoey's
chest.  The sudden action took her by surprise, causing her
to release Sam who hit the ground rolled into a ball.  Zoey
recovered almost instantly and rushed her foe, but Sam
managed to catch her with a judo hold that redirected her own
strength against her and sent the evil leaper soaring through
the windshield of Jeffcoate's jeep.
     Uncut and unhurt, Zoey tore free of the jeep and again
faced her enemy.  "Dr. Beckett, I presume?"  she mocked.  "No
wonder Jeffcoate was such a pest--within the nerd lacked Sam
Beckett, chronic do-gooder and the world's most luscious time
travelling honor scout!"
     Sam took a step backwards and felt the small of his back
bump the rim of the satellite transponder dish.  "I thought
you were dead."
     "Don't you mean 'hoped'?"  Zoey brushed broken glass
from her clothes.  "Blame the healing effects of leaping.
Although I will grant that you almost had me, and certainly
came closer than most who've tried to kill me."
     Sam glanced around furtively, searching for anything of
use as a weapon.  "Well, you can't blame a guy for trying."
     "Of course I can,"  she answered, the playfulness gone
from her voice.
     A door of pulsing light materialized disgorging Thames.
"Zo, Lothos wants to know why you haven't--"  his attention
was suddenly drawn to Sam.  "Holy O.J.!  It's the quantum
crusader!"
     "Hush!"  Zoey hissed.
     "Who's that?"  Sam asked, stalling.  "Your hologram?"
     Zoey nodded in the affirmative.  "And where's the loyal
Admiral Calavicci?  Off spending the afternoon at the local
Hooters?"
     Sam glared, but said nothing.
     "No answer?  A pity;  I truly wish he could be here as
we ring down the curtain on your heroic career."
     Thames smirked as he scanned his handlink.  "Ole Doc
Beckett is gonna rack you up 10,000,000 points on Lothos'
magic scoreboard, PLUS a free game!  The master mainframe
says it's clobberin' time!"
     "You've earned your last merit badge, fool,"  Zoey
snarled.  Walking over to the jeep she sank her fingers into
the frame and effortlessly raised it above her head,
intending to use it to crush Sam Beckett under its ponderous
weight.
     It was time to play his trump card, Sam knew.  Fumbling
in his pocket the scientist fished out the vial he had taken
from Dr. Jeffcoate's laboratory.  With one smooth motion he
snapped its cap off with his thumb and hurled its contents
into Zoey's face.
     "Look out!"  Thames warned, too late.  "That's ether!"
     The numbing fumes worked their way down her nose and
throat, sending Zoey stumbling back blindly.  Her foot
slipped on a rock and sent her tumbling backwards, the jeep
crashing down on top of her with a deafening crash.
     Sam studied the wreckage cautiously, not daring even to
release the breath he'd been holding.  Could he have won that
easily?
     Long seconds passed and no movement came from beneath
the jeep.  Sam finally let himself exhale.  The air had
barely left his lungs when the smashed vehicle flew upward,
seemingly of its own will, and sailed past him, chipping
mortar from a glancing impact with the utility shed.
     Zoey shot off like a rocket, circling the clearing at
supersonic speed.  Sam blinked and realized what she was
doing:  the friction was burning off the ether before it had
a chance to render her unconcious.
     "Looks like your trump card came up aces and eights,"
mocked Thames to an unhearing Sam.  "Zoey, come here and kill
this guy!"
     Decelerating to a human velocity, the evil leaper came
to a halt a dozen feet before her opponent.  "Clever, but not
enough by half,"  she said.  "I expected more from 'the next
Einstein'."
     In that moment Sam Beckett was sure he was a dead man.
The grim reaper in the form of his deadliest enemy strode
toward him with overpowering arrogance, her expression
showing neither mercy nor remorse.  As she closed in Sam
doubted he had time for even a final prayer.
     And then a voice bellowed "GET HIM!"
     A recovered Chandler and his regrouped gang all
converged on the person they still believed to be Andrew
Clemens.  Having missed Zoey's more impressive feats of the
last few minutes due to a combination of the encroaching
darkness and various states of unconcious, they piled on top
of her en masse, still believing they stood a chance of
victory.
     For a second Sam was torn between helping them and
running for his life.  But he knew Zoey would ignore her
other targets in favor of him, so he broke for the woods
across the clearing, confident she would follow him.  Maybe,
he thought desperately, just maybe I can lose her in the
woods.
     After less than a dozen steps Sam jerked to a stop, his
path blocked by the sudden appearance of Gushie.  The
programmer was pointing and waving his arms frantically.  "Go
back Dr. Beckett!"  he shouted.  "Run that way!"
     Sam followed Gushie's finger as he pointed back toward
the radio tower.  "Why should I--"  he began.
     "JUST DO IT!"  Gushie ordered, using a commanding tone
Sam had never heard from him before.  "I don't have time to
explain!"
     Uncomprehending, Sam turned and ran back to the base of
the antenna, towards the dish relaying network transmissions
from an orbiting satellite.  From the corner of his eye he
caught site of Zoey shrug off her attackers and focus in on
him.
     "Oh no, my studly morsel, you won't escape this time!"
Rising above the again-unconcious teenage forms, the evil
leaper swooped towards him, reminding him for all the world
of the Wicked Witch of the West.
     At the last second, just as her fingers brushed the back
of his neck, Sam threw himself onto the ground and rolled
out of the way.  Zoey had not yet mastered the art of self-
propelled flight and whizzed over him to collide with the
satellite dish, knocking it off its assembly in a cascading
shower of sparks.
     Sam, who had been looking directly into the light show,
winced as the image burned itslf into his retinas.  He shook
his head to clear his vision, opening his eyes to see Zoey
standing not three feet from him!
     "No more tricks!"  she screamed.  "Time to die!"


TO BE CONCLUDED...