PROLOGUE

Once again in the near-emptiness of the void where he went between leaps, Doctor Sam Beckett felt the waves of energy flow over, under, and through him.  As usual, his only company was the voice of the Other.  Over the past ten or so years of traveling through time, Sam had yet to identify to whom the voice belonged.

He hoped this was going to be the last leap...  the final mission...  the one that got him home.  Sam knew there was way too much wrong in the past for any one man to fix, but spending the rest of his life with his family and friends in his rightful time would be a welcome change of pace.

Familiar names floated through the leaper’s thoughts.  Al...  Ziggy, Tina, Verbena...  Gooshie.  “But Gooshie...  he’s...  he’s gone,” Sam whispered aloud, although no physical words were spoken.

Then, another name.  Donna.  “Donna?  My wife?”  Sam questioned into the expanse.  No answer came from the comforting voice, and without warning, the plane of existence disappeared, and a new one revealed itself in front of him.

After the whining sounds of the leap subsided, Sam found himself in a dimly lit shop.  Glancing around, he saw many ancient-looking trinkets, some tarnished with age, others rotting from ill care.  Not only was he in an antique shop, he was also behind a desk with a rather antique-looking cash register in front of him.

As always, one of the first things the time-traveler needed to find out was what the year was.  Without that, he wouldn’t know whether to respond with a “cool”, a “gnarly”, or an “awesome”.

He looked to his right and saw a calendar.  It appeared pretty new, so the Quantum Physicist assumed it was this year’s, although when he saw what was written in big, red numbers at the top, he gasped, “1943?  Oh boy!”

PART ONE

Friday, September 20, 1991

16:35 EDT

Färber Antiques, Lancaster, Pennsylvania

“Could this really be 1943?” Sam mused aloud as he looked around.  Being in an antique shop hardly helped with that regard since nothing in here looked like it was made after World War II.  There was no newspaper around, so as a third resort, Doctor Beckett headed for the front door to see what the world outside was like.

“Where are you going?” asked an older male voice, the words spoken in surprise somewhere above Sam.  “We don’t close for another twenty-five minutes, Herbert!”

It took Sam a moment to realize that the person speaking to him was not only above him on a balcony, but also was not even speaking English.  His brain had automatically translated the German.  Realizing that he was probably expected to reply in the same language, he glanced up and saw a balding gentleman who looked to be in his fifties.

“I was just going to take a look outside,” Sam answered in fluent German, hoping that his response was viable.  From the sounds of it, this was his boss, and he probably shouldn’t upset the status quo of this little store.

“Well, don’t take too long.  Your brother will be arriving at the train station this evening.  We all must be there to welcome him back from the war!”

All right, so his father employed Sam’s host.  That will either simplify things while working or make them even more difficult.  However, something important in the middle-aged man’s answer caught Sam’s attention.  „Wir müssen ganz dort sein, ihn vom Krieg zurück zu begrüßen!“ the words of his host’s father’s last sentence repeated in the leaper’s head.

“War?  My God, somehow I have leaped into 1943!” Sam screamed in his head.  “How could this have happened?  And why are we speaking German?”  Nevertheless, the scientist nodded silently in response and headed out the front door, turning the ancient knob.  Barely any light was getting through the dust-covered, tiny window at the top of the door, so Sam was kept in anticipation until the world was finally revealed in front of him.

To his great relief, it was definitely not wartime 1943.  It wasn’t even the time of the war in Viet Nam.  What war was it then?  From the looks of the automobiles on the street and the fashion of the pedestrians, Sam guessed that it was the late Eighties or early Nineties.  “That darned calendar sure is well preserved!” he whispered.  Blinking in the sunlight as he turned around to take a view of the storefront, he saw the sign for the shop he just exited.  “Färber Antiques” was painted in flaking brown and white colors, the sign itself looking like it was cut out by hand from a large slab of wood more than fifty years ago.

The building appeared as though it used to be a house, as did the neighboring structures.  The downtown was very quaint in the leaper’s view, and reminded him somewhat of his hometown of Elk Ridge.  The only difference was everything had a Germanic look to it, with each of the converted houses displaying their original German-European architecture.  If it hadn’t been for the English signs on most of the other shops, Sam would have sworn he was in Germany.  The popularity of American cars also helped him decide that he was in the United States, even as a Volkswagen drove by.

Beyond that, the entire area was decked up with banners and other decorations, as if they were preparing for a parade or some kind of festival.  Deciding it was probably best not to make his host’s father suspicious, Doctor Beckett retreated up the steps and opened the old door once more, closing it carefully behind him as if the knob would crumble in his hands and the door would disintegrate to sawdust.

Returning to his position at the till, Sam settled himself on the stool that was placed there.  In the next twenty or so minutes while the store was open, the leaper found himself fascinated with some of the paraphernalia surrounding him.  There were oil lanterns made almost entirely of glass, many working and non-working clocks of all sizes, glass bottles with a light coating of dust...  beyond that, Sam admired paintings created by people who were most likely artists local to the area.  Some depicted the downtown area he saw outside, while others showed Mennonites working at their farms and countryside landscapes.

Sam hadn’t been paying attention to the time, so when all of a sudden dozens of clocks started going off, each with their own unique gong or cuckoo, and after each had rung their five chimes, Sam was surprised to find a figure standing beside him.  All of the noise had muffled the older man’s footsteps as he approached Sam.

“I love those clocks,” the middle-aged man said, getting a far-off look in his eyes.

The leaper nodded in agreement.  Although many of them had gone off and were loud, there was something about some of the chimes that struck as a piece of history, clocks from a time before electricity became a standard and before one could find a watch on every wrist.

“Well, we’d better get home to your mother.  She will force us an early dinner so we have time to get ready to pick up Paul.”  Again, Sam bobbed his head in agreement, and when Mr. Färber stared at him with a puzzled look, he spoke his positive opinion on the idea.  Expecting to leave the building and drive home, Doctor Beckett started heading toward the front door.

This seemed to please Herbert’s father.  “Good, you lock up and I’ll go back and start the car.”  The time-traveler let out a quick sigh of relief and locked the deadbolt on the front door, taking one last glance around before following the footsteps to what he presumed would be the back door.

“Good, good, you’re home earlier today!” cried out a voice as Sam and Mr. Färber entered the old farmhouse that was now in the middle of a new subdivision.  “Paul’s train will be arriving in about an hour and a half, so hurry up and eat!”

Herbert’s father grumbled something under his breath as he headed toward the kitchen, leaving Sam with an armful of collectibles that they had brought home from the family’s antique shop.  Not knowing where to set them down, the scientist looked around for a table and found a dining room to his right.  Carefully, he walked over to the large oak surface and placed each item down gingerly, starting with the ones perilously perched on top of his arms.  Mr. Färber wouldn’t allow him to take two trips, so the whole load was stacked up in his care.

Once the last glass ornament had been set on the table, Sam absorbed his new surroundings.  It was definitely a German household, and looked as though it had been since the first days of the home.  There were black-and-white aerial photographs of what looked like the homestead surrounded by acres of corn and wheat, along with a large barn that no longer stood beside the house.  There were also family photographs of varying age, from the early brownish shades to black-and-white snapshots to primitive color photographs.  It seemed like the Färber family was small by no account.

Hearing German conversation in the kitchen, the Quantum Physicist decided he should meet the female voice that greeted them upon arrival.  He had barely entered the kitchen from the dining room when the presumed Mrs. Färber met eyes with who she thought was her son.  „Herbert, Abendessen ist bereit,“ she said, holding up a platter of food as she told him dinner was served.

The woman, her thick, red hair done up in a tight bun, brushed by him as she moved over to the kitchen table.  “Your brother said he would be eating with his comrades before boarding the train, so we will have to postpone a welcome dinner until Sunday,” the woman said after setting down the food.

„Warum Sonntag?“ Sam asked, feeling a little strange for not having spoken any English in conversation since his leap in, yet glad for the refresher in German.  Mr. Färber settled himself at the head of the table and began loading some meat onto his plate.

„Weil morgen ist die Höhepunkt von Oktoberfest, mein Liebling!“ Herbert’s mother responded, explaining that tomorrow was the height of the city’s Oktoberfest celebrations.  Doctor Beckett felt as though this was common knowledge to the townsfolk, but not being well versed in German heritage, he shrugged it off and waited for Mrs. Färber to take a seat before doing so himself.

The married couple waited for Sam to bow his head before the husband began saying grace.  „Himmelischer Vater, danke für diese Essen, daß wir zu essen gehen, und wir danken Ihn für das Zurückbringen unseres Sohns zu uns vom Krieg. In Jesus’s Namen, Amen.“  (“Heavenly Father, thank you for this food that we are going to eat, and we thank you for the return of our son to use from the war.  In Jesus' name, Amen.”)

Sam and Mrs. Färber echoed the “Amen” and began to eat.  Taking the opportunity to glance around at another room in the house, the leaper spotted a crucifix of Jesus Christ on the wall, hanging directly at the opposite end of the room from Mr. Färber’s seat at the table.  There was no chair at that end of the table, either, apparently so that nobody would have to eat with their backs to the Lord.  Sam didn’t know if that was a German tradition, a religious custom, or perhaps a family practice.  Either way, Doctor Beckett felt good to be in the presence of practicing Christians.

Finding that the man of the house was half-finished his dinner, his wife not far behind, and Sam had barely touched his plate, the scientist hurried himself.  There was no need for a hold-up.  Scarffing down his food was a small sacrifice so that he would be finished eating, not that he could contribute to the married couple’s discussion about tomorrow’s Oktoberfest activities.  If he finished quickly, he would be able to do whatever else needed doing before they headed for the train station to meet this Paul, Herbert’s brother who happened to be returning from a war that Sam had yet to place in his Swiss-cheesed memory.

Speaking of trying to place things, Admiral Al Calavicci, the observer for Project Quantum Leap, hadn’t shown up yet.  It normally took the admiral a few hours at most, but as usual, Doctor Beckett was anxious to have his holographic aide show up to let him know what he was here to fix in these people’s lives.  So far it looked like things were going well, but maybe there was a neighbor or a friend of the family who had something wrong go in their life that shouldn’t have.

Dinner wrapped up quickly without so much as a clearing of the table:  apparently they were in a bigger rush than Sam had originally figured.  Mr. Färber was correct, however, that dinner was “forced” upon them, as the couple had finished in a dozen minutes, leaving Sam alone at the table with a quarter of his plate still covered.  “Don’t dawdle, Herbert.  You should get changed into some good clothes before we leave.”

Having his mouth full of food, the leaper couldn’t respond vocally and nodded vigorously at the redheaded woman.  He wasn’t sure how old Herbert was, but Sam was beginning to think he must be in his late teens or early twenties, given that he was apparently still living at home and working for the family business.  The clothes were comfortable enough, so Sam figured that his host was similar in build.

As for a change of clothing, Doctor Beckett figured he would wait until the elder Färbers returned to determine the level of casualness expected.  Welcoming a soldier back from war could either entail a full suit or simply a nice shirt and pants.  Sam couldn’t recall if he had ever had to do this before...  didn’t he have also have a brother who had gone to war?

Then it hit him.  Tom.  Tom Beckett had died in Viet Nam in one history, yet somehow Sam caught a glimpse of a memory about being the best man at his older brother’s wedding.  Certainly he hadn’t married before shipping off to fight the Viet Cong in the name of democracy?

There was no more time for the scientist to think it over, as there was a loud knock at the front door.  “Herbert!  Get that, please!” his “mother”, for this leap, called from upstairs, and Sam noticed for the first time that her German not as good as her husband’s.  Figuring that the dishes would be taken care of later, Sam got up from the table and headed to the front door.  The visitor used the heavy knocker once again as the time-traveler put his hand on the knob and turned it, revealing to him a pair of senior citizens.  A man and a woman, they both appeared to be in their seventies or eighties, stood smiling at Sam.

„Guten Abend, mein leiber Herbert,“ the elderly man greeted happily as the equally-elderly woman used both hands to pull Sam’s face down to hers and kiss him on the cheeks.  She let go, and Sam stepped back to let them into the house, surmising that they were his temporary grandparents.  Both of them had very white hair, no gray or silver, and certainly did not hide their age.  Warm eyes shone behind wrinkled faces and they seemed to be very excited, most likely about their other grandson’s return.

Mr. Färber descended the stairs and greeted the elderly couple with a hug for each and a kiss for his mother.  “Catherine is about ready to go, but Herbert still needs to go change,” he reported, glancing up and down at Sam.  Sam did the same to him, noticing that he required semi-formal dress, and said, “I’ll be right back down.” 

Without waiting for a response, the leaper headed up the stairs.  The steps were narrow and creaking, so he took them at a normal pace.  There was no sense in slipping and causing more delay.

Reaching the summit of the flight of stairs, Sam glanced around at a hint of which room was his, for the time being.  Mr. and Mrs. (Catherine) Färber must share a bedroom, and he guessed that it was the one whose door was open slightly.  The rest of the dark-stained doors were closed, but one had light shining from under the crack between the floor.  Hoping that the rooms in use would also have the curtains open, Sam opened the door to that room and found it in pristine condition, but obviously having belonged to a teenaged boy of the Eighties.  There was a poster of He-Man on the far wall and what looked like a stack of records next to an older phonograph among other paraphernalia.

“What are you doing in your brother’s room?” Catherine said curiously from behind, giving Doctor Beckett a start.  He also noted that she was speaking to him in English with an accent that he could not quite place.

“I was just taking a look at it, Mom,” Sam answered, also in English, having gotten over the use of familiar title-names a long time ago.

Her lips tightened and she nodded, obviously trying to contain her emotions.  “I know, I miss him too.  But don’t worry, he’ll be back here tonight.”  She took a few steps sideways and threw open another door.  “Now hurry!  Quickly, quickly!”

The leaper took no time and hustled into the neighboring room, which was considerably messier and definitely lived in.  Catherine turned and took the stairs, each groan and squeak of the wooden steps echoing into Herbert’s bedroom.

Opening the closet door, Sam found an entire wardrobe of clothing for all occasions, causing him to grate his teeth and let out an annoyed breath since he now had to narrow down something appropriate.  Sometimes he wished otherwise simple things like this would be ready for him when he leaped in.

PART TWO

Thursday, January 5, 2006

11:56 MST

Project Quantum Leap, Stallion’s Gate, New Mexico

„Wo bin ich?  Wo bin ich?“

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand you!” Verbena Beeks responded, trying her best to tell the German-speaking visitor that her knowledge of his language was non-existent.  The leapee had been in the Waiting Room, unconscious, for a nearly an hour before he woke up sputtering German.  Verbena, Project Quantum Leap’s psychiatrist and caretaker of its “visitors”, couldn’t think of anybody in the complex who knew this language.  Well, anybody except Ziggy.  Although, she never liked Ziggy talking to the Waiting Room’s visitors as it was usually quite unnerving for them to hear a voice but not see a person.

“Just stay here, please, and I will be right back.”  Stepping away, facing the visitor in the aura of Sam Beckett, Doctor Beeks eventually turned half-circle and walked to the large door that exited to the corridor.  She pressed her hand on the pad and the airlock slid open before her, closing quickly behind the nervous doctor.

Leaning against the wall, a common habit of hers after having a stressful encounter with a leapee, Verbena let out a breath.  It had been five minutes of trying to speak to him and nothing was working.  He didn’t seem to know any English at all.

“Tough day?” a low voice spoke suddenly, startling Doctor Beeks in her daze.

“Al!  Don’t sneak up on me like that,” she said, chastising Two-Star Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci, retired, for his sudden appearance.

“Sorry, ’Bena, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he answered sincerely as he pulled a Havana cigar from the inside of his coat pocket.  The admiral also pulled out his cigar cutter, preparing the Cuban cigar for smoking, and after putting the cutter back into one of his outside pockets, grabbed a lighter and lit the cigar.  Despite his title, he didn’t dress like a military officer.  His coat was a striking blue with a glittery coating over the shoulders and pants of a matching blue.  He also figured that he could break the “no smoking” rule whenever he pleased.

Verbena was about to protest the tobacco, both for polluting the air and for breaking the law, but digressed.  This little issue was the least of anybody’s problems at this project.  “Don’t worry about it, Al.”

“So what’s up with this visitor, anyway?  I don’t see you like this very often,” Al queried, knowing that the psychiatrist’s job was probably as stressful as his own, that of taking care of Sam’s leaps.

“Well, he’s only speaking German... I think.  I’m not a language person, not by a long shot,” Doctor Beeks answered.  “Isn’t there anyone on the senior staff who can speak German or Dutch or something like that?”

Al tilted his head a bit, trying to think about who might be able to help out.  They would have to be someone who knew about Sam’s true whereabouts, hence the doctor’s statement about a “senior staff” member.

“I can’t help you there...  but what about Ike Bentenhoff?  I’m pretty sure he told me once that he spoke one of those guttural European languages,” the admiral suggested.

Verbena’s eyes lit up.  “You know, we should really collect this kind of information and have Ziggy pull it up when something like this happens.  If you were in the Imaging Chamber with Sam, I probably wouldn’t have come up with anybody.”

“Doctor Beeks, you know that I am able to speak in any modern language, as well as a few ancient ones, just in case Doctor Beckett should ever travel beyond the theoretically possible,” Ziggy, the project’s sentient computer, commented, her voice coming from all around.  “The visitor is indeed speaking German.  Shall I translate for you?”

The psychiatrist, despite knowing that Ziggy was a computer, though no ordinary computer, didn’t want to hurt her feelings.  However, Ziggy’s ego often got the best of herself, especially since she now had an even larger role in Sam’s leaps. She needed to be reminded of her position at the Project sometimes and that she was not omnipotent.

“Ziggy, you know I don’t like you talking to the visitors or even having your voice speak in the Waiting Room.  For some, it can drive them to paranoia and they stop co-operating all together,” Verbena explained, hoping Ziggy would get the point.

There was silence for a moment before the computer responded.  “Very well.  I know when I am not needed,” she said very petulantly.

“Uh oh,” Al piped up.  “You got her mad.”

Rolling her eyes, Doctor Beeks started walking down the hallway without a word to either man or machine.

“Where are you going?” the admiral called after her down the hallway.

“To find Bentenhoff, if you don’t mind!” she hollered back, quickening her angry pace.

“Women,” Al muttered under his breath, and headed to the Control Room.

Ike Bentenhoff, the scientist in charge of Imaging Control, was at the desk in his private office as he went over some new algorithms on his personal workstation while he absent-mindedly twirled with his fingers the small Star of David that hung around his neck.  He had been at Project Quantum Leap from the beginning, helping with the team that built the technology and programming behind the Imaging Chamber.  At first he had no idea why anybody would want such an elaborate hologram system set up, but he was one of the many people in the complex who learned of Doctor Samuel Beckett's stepping into the Quantum Leap Accelerator.

Doctor Bentenhoff had a slender build and a handsome face.  He had even dated Tina a few times before she started setting her sights on Gooshie.  Tiny spectacles adorned his nose, and Ike slowly removed them as his hands came to his temples, trying to relieve the headache that he felt coming on.

He had been so young when Quantum Leap started, and only recently required glasses.  Being in his early forties now, he wondered if there would ever be enough time to make up for the past thirteen years.  Sure, he enjoyed his work, but his family life had suffered and lost contact with a number of friends.  Then again, he had gained many friends who were like family at the complex.

There was a sudden knock at the scientist's door and he promptly put the glasses back on and got up to open the door.  Ike was not expecting to greet Verbena Beeks.

“Good morning, Ike,” she said with a warm smile, though she looked slightly troubled.  “Am I interrupting you?”

“I was just working on some improvements for the Imaging Chamber, dealing with Ziggy’s new hologram and everything,” he answered, his expression turning to a smile. “But an interruption is welcome.  It sure feels strange working alongside a ten-year old, but the next leap should give Ziggy a chance to shine like she never has before.  How can I help you, Verbena?”
       Though she didn't know Bentenhoff very well, Verbena would call him an “acquaintance” at minimum.  They often saw each other in the Control Room or at the larger meetings, so they knew each other enough to be on a first-name basis.  “Well, I guess I'll get right down to it.  Do you speak any language other than English?  German, for example?”

Ike raised his eyebrows at the question.  He had just been thinking about his immediate family a few minutes ago.  “Actually, yes, my father was from Germany.  I might be a little rusty in speaking it, but I can certainly understand it.  Why do you ask?”

Shifting her stance slightly, Verbena explained, “Today may be your first chance to see how Ziggy’s new hologram works out, but the visitor in the Waiting Room...  he only speaks German, or at least, that’s all he’s spoken since he woke up.  We’re having a really hard time trying to talk to him, and I was hoping you’d be able to help us out.” 

The reaction she received was not one she had anticipated.  Ike’s expression changed dramatically, almost looking fearful.  “You – you want me to go into the Waiting Room?  And talk to a visitor?  Isn’t that a job f-for you and your staff?  What about Ziggy?  She knows German.  I actually practice with her once in a while.  Why do I have to do it?”

The scientist was beginning to get frantic, and Verbena thought she might have another patient on her hands.  Approaching him, the psychiatrist laid her hands on his shoulders, meeting him face to face.  “Ike, calm down,” Doctor Beeks said soothingly, knowing that he could get nervous from time to time.  It must be something in the nature of these programmers.  “Just breathe.”

Complying, Doctor Bentenhoff stopped talking and took a few deep breaths.  He had never been asked to enter the Waiting Room, which as far as he knew, was reserved for Admiral Calavicci, Doctor Beeks, Doctor Fuller, and medical staff in emergencies.

“I’m sorry, Verbena.  It just surprises me that you want me in there, in the Waiting Room.  Only the top brass are allowed in there.”  Ike was calmer, but still needed a good explanation to be invited into the mysterious room where visitors in Doctor Beckett’s aura were known to reside during a leap.

Verbena nodded in understanding.  “You’re our only real choice, Ike.  Ziggy can’t speak to the visitor because it would most likely frighten him, speaking with a voice that had no embodiment in the room.  We don’t know what year he’s from yet, either.  We really need your help.”

The imaging specialist contemplated for a moment and his sense of duty overcame the uneasiness of entering the Waiting Room.  “All right, I’ll do it.”

“I knew you would,” Doctor Beeks replied.  “All you have to do is ask him his name and the date.  If he keeps on talking, try to get as much information out of him as you can.  Every little bit helps Ziggy zero in on Doctor Beckett.”

Nodding his head in comprehension, he motioned toward the door with his arm.  “Lead the way, my dear doctor!”

Verbena stood and watched for nearly a half-hour as Ike Bentenhoff spoke with the leapee, coaching him when they hit a snag.  Thankfully, Ziggy could hear the entire conversation, and a muffled bleeping sound came over the speakers to indicate that the computer had enough information for now.

“Ike, that’s good.  Ask him if he’s hungry and tell him that I will be back soon, with food if he likes,” Doctor Beeks instructed.  Doctor Bentenhoff relayed the message in German to Herbert Färber and received a negative response on the offer of dinner.  Saying no more, Ike stepped toward Verbena and they walked out in double file.

Once the large airlock door had closed behind them, leaving Herbert alone in the Waiting Room, the imaging scientist breathed a deep sigh.  “That wasn’t as bad as I thought, although I was afraid I would say something wrong, or mention the Project to him.”

Shaking her head, the psychiatrist said, “Don’t worry, you did fine by the looks of it.  Ziggy wants us to report to the Control Room.  You might as well come along since you did help us out.”

They took the short trip to the Control Room, finding most of the senior staff already there.  Donna Eleese and Al Calavicci were at the main control panel with Tina Martinez-O’Farrell, Sammy Jo Fuller, and Dominic Lofton.  All five of them turned their gaze to the two entering the nebulous of Project Quantum Leap.

“Great job, Ike!” Al called out as Verbena and Ike walked toward the main console.  “I’m glad you can speak that gibberish, ‘cause it certainly came in handy today.  Ziggy’s just about found Sam, somewhere in the early Nineties.”

Doctor Bentenhoff blushed slightly, surprised to receive such praise from the “top dog” of the whole Project.  “My German could have used a bit more practice beforehand, but it got the job done.”

“It sure did,” Sammy Jo replied, smiling, her Southern accent showing through slightly.  “The nanosearch is nearly complete, and we’ve also eliminated a number of possible scenarios for Doctor Beckett.”  Before anybody else could continue the discussion, Ziggy interjected.

“Excuse me, Doctor Fuller, but I have located Doctor Beckett in the timeline on September 19, 1991, in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.”  The silky voice of the computer filtered throughout the Control Room, bringing relief to all concerned with finding Sam Beckett.

Everybody’s eyes turned to Observer Calavicci, as it was now his turn to do his most-important job.  He was the contact to the past with Sam, giving the time-traveler information on how to complete his leap.

“Fire up the Imaging Chamber,” Al said levelly as he picked up the newly improved handlink and walked toward the door to the room that projected Sam’s surroundings in the past.  The staff behind him bustled as they began working on the standard procedure.

The car ride wouldn’t have been so bad if Sam didn’t find himself squeezed between Herbert’s grandparents in the back seat of the Färber family’s sedan.  He had learned that Mr. Färber’s first name was Walter and his parents, the senior Färbers, visited often.  Why they did not take two vehicles was beyond Sam, considering the ride back would be more crammed with the addition of Herbert’s returning brother.

Dusk was beginning to settle, but there was still enough sunlight to make out all of the buildings as they drove along toward the train station.  Suddenly, a bright rectangle of white light appeared outside of the car, and Doctor Beckett saw Admiral Calavicci step through, pushing the button on the new handlink to close the door behind him.

It was odd, watching the holographic representation of Al glide alongside the vehicle as it traveled down the road.  Even after all these years, the leaper still had trouble getting used to some of the quirks of his contact with the present.

“Hey Sam, going on an evening outing, are we?  Where are ya headed?”  the observer questioned from outside, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to answer from his current position.

„Wieviel längeres bis wir die Zugstation erreichen?“ Sam asked to anybody who cared to respond.

„Nur fünf Minuten,“ Walter Färber answered, and returned to concentrating on driving.  He seemed to focus entirely on what he was doing at the moment, never taking part in the conversation between Catherine and her parents-in-law.  Sam had been silent otherwise throughout the ride.

The admiral pressed a button on the handlink.  “What just went on there, Ziggy?” asked the confused Al as the holographic image representing Ziggy, a beautiful female dressed to impress, appeared.  This was the first time that the observer had seen Ziggy’s newest holographic version, and was it ever an improvement.  She stood about his height, the same face and shoulder-length brown hair as before, but now a curvaceous body accented by a silky beige dress.  Stephen sure knew what he was doing!

“Doctor Beckett asked, ‘How much longer until we reach the train station?’  The gentleman in the driver’s seat, who I would say with ninety-percent certainty is Herbert’s father, Walter, replied with, ‘Only five minutes.’  I suppose we also now have an explanation for our visitor’s inability to speak English,” the holographic Ziggy reported, smiling at the admiral who was still astounded at her appearance.  Sam was obviously impressed as well, getting a look of surprise from the leaper.

If there was one advantage to the new, sleek handlink, it was that Ziggy could help better with situations like this one.  Al gave his head a shake and returned his focus to the task at hand.  “All right, so why are they headed to the train station?”

“Sergeant Paul Färber, Herbert’s older brother, is returning from the Persian Gulf War, Admiral.”  Sam nodded at Ziggy’s statement, watching the two intangible figures discuss his situation.  “However, he has brought a surprise back home with him, one that his family is not very fond of.”

The leaper’s concentration changed completely to the conversation between Ziggy and Al.  They noticed his interest and Ziggy continued reporting.  “Paul Färber left the U.S.A. as a bachelor, but he is returning with a wife.”

“Oh boy,” Sam and Al said in unison.

PART THREE

Friday, September 20, 1991

18:50 EDT

Lancaster Train Station, Lancaster, Pennsylvania

The car pulled into the parking lot of the train station, Sam’s holographic companions keeping mostly quiet, except for Al telling him the who, where, and when of the situation until he was able to converse with them in greater detail.  Walter and Catherine departed from the vehicle and each helped one of Herbert’s grandparents out of the back seat.

Purposefully falling back a bit, the leaper began questioning Ziggy and Al quietly.  “What do you mean, he got married?  To a female officer?  To a civilian?  And what the heck is the Persian Gulf War?”

“Ziggy, you’re the one who said it.  Explain it to the man!” Al proclaimed.

Trying to act like she was doing all the work, Ziggy let out a sigh.  “All I can tell you about his wife’s history is that she was born in Iran, according to her American immigration papers, and that she was born on July 25^th, 1968.  She listed no parents, no family, and no hometown.”

“As for the war, Sam,” the observer cut in, “I’m surprised you don’t remember it.  Funding for the war was a tough one to fight to get start-up money for Project Quantum Leap.  Anyway, the war officially started in January of this year, 1991, and it was officially over in March of 1991.  Not a long war, but we had to help free Kuwait.”  He thought about mentioning the modern-day struggle in Iraq but decided against it.  There was such a thing as unneeded information in situations like these.

Al turned to the handlink, used to his old habits, and then realized that he didn’t have to look at the multi-colored cubes stuck together anymore, trying to read the tiny display showing information.  He looked to Ziggy, who then continued with delivering information.  “Sergeant Paul Färber was reported missing on March 2, 1991, and was found a mere two weeks ago at a Catholic hospice in southern Iraq.  Apparently, being a Catholic himself helped with matters, and he was nursed back to health after suffering a broken leg and third-degree burns, as was stated by him in his report to the Army.”

Sam had many more questions to ask, but as he turned to watch where he was walking, had to stop short from running into the senior Mr. Färber.  Then there was a yelling from up ahead, a male voice calling out, “Mom! Dad!” in English.

“Paul!  Oh, my Paul!” Catherine replied, also in English and with a slight accent from the British Isles, as she hurried her pace.  Walter did the same, rushing toward his son.  Mother and Father embraced Child as Grandparents watched with absolute delight.  Al noticed a woman following slowly behind with a look of apprehension in her face.

“I’m just so glad that you’re finally home!” cried the mother as she broke apart from him, tears beginning to form in her eyes.  “We thought we’d lost you!”

Paul shook his head, as if dismissing the possibility.  “Not as long as I have this home to return to,” he answered, and then noticed his grandparents and Sam, in the aura of Herbert.  “I’m so glad to see you, too, Oma and Opa!” he exclaimed, hugging them both as well, getting many kisses from his grandmother.  Everything was still in English, and Sam overheard Ziggy and Al talking about how there wasn’t any more German, except for the accents of Walter and his parents.

“Sam, we were under the impression that Herbert could only speak German.  Maybe it’s just what they speak with the family and he’s forgotten his English during the leap.  That doesn’t explain why they’re all speaking English now, though,” commented Observer Al.

“Hey, little bro’,” the returning sergeant said, his eyes wet from the reunion with his parents and grandparents.  Unsure of what to do, Sam took a couple steps closer to this man dressed in a freshly pressed Army uniform, who suddenly took him into a bear hug.  Not wanting to look out of place, the time-traveller returned the hug.

Now that everyone had successfully welcomed Paul back to his home, Catherine dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, the female that Al had noticed was getting closer.

“I know that you’re all glad to see me alive, and let me tell you, I’m glad to be able to see you all, too.  But, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for one special woman.  Everybody,” he said, turning around hailing over the female, “I’d like you to meet Anita.”

Anita tried to smile, but it didn’t last too long.  She looked absolutely frightened to be making the acquaintance of the core of Paul’s family.  Her skin was either a darker shade of Caucasian, or a very light shade of Middle-Eastern.  It was hard to discern which.

Paul put his arm around her back and rubbed her left shoulder, trying to comfort her.  “Mom, Dad...  I would like you to meet Mrs. Anita Färber.”

Everybody was awe-struck, except Sam and his observers who knew about Paul’s secret marriage.  There was absolute silence between the family for a few moments, the only noises coming from other people speaking in the train station and the announcement of the seven-o’clock train being five minutes late.

“You...  you married her?”  Walter asked in German, his expression unreadable.  Sam wasn’t sure if he was angry or elated.

“Hey, Dad, could you speak in English?  I’ve been speaking English with you because Anita doesn’t know German,” Paul said, smiling slightly.  What Walter said next wiped that grin right off his face.

Walter’s face quickly became quite readable.  “This isn’t possible.  You can’t be married.  She’s not German.  She’s not even Catholic!”  He was still speaking German.

“Walter!  Do as our son asks and speak English.  It’s rude!” Catherine chastised, obviously not on her husband’s side in this matter.

       Paul looked devastated, but was quick to anger.  “First of all, who cares if she isn’t German?  Or Catholic?  But just for you information, she just happens to be Catholic, has been her whole life!  Did you know that one of Saddam’s highest ministers is Catholic?  You don’t have to be White to practice Catholicism!”

       Sam was speechless.  He didn’t know if he should say anything or let Paul and Walter argue it out.  Catherine was trying to keep the peace, and Anita looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and never be seen again.  The grandparents seemed to be taking Walter’s side, however, glowering at the new addition to the family.

       “Not to mention, you married me, didn’t you, Walter?” stated Catherine.  “What, Irish women are all right, but not a... well, um, where are you from, dear?”

       Paul glared at his father, looked at his mother thankfully, and then turned to his wife lovingly. 

       “I’m originally from Iran,” she said, her voice nearly quivering, “but I grew up mostly in Iraq.”

       “So this is how you repay your country?  You go defend against Iraq and then bring home one of their people?  We have enough immigrants as it is!”  Walter bellowed, his opinion on the matter quite obvious.

       Fed up with hearing all of this bigotry, Sam decided it was time to give his opinion.  “Wait just a minute, Dad,” he interjected.  “If it wasn’t for immigration, we Färbers probably wouldn’t be here in the first place.  Not to mention, she speaks English, and your son loves her.  There’s no reason why she, as a person, can’t contribute to our country.”

       Sam Beckett had always hated racism.  One of the worst leaps he could remember dealing with it was replacing a member of the Ku Klux Klan, who turned out to be a sympathizer with the African community that lived in the area.  The attitudes of those people still sickened the leaper, and so did the attitude here.

       Everybody seemed surprised at Sam’s outburst, and he continued on when Walter stood there, failing to find words with which to reply.  “Would it be better if Anita had been born in the States?  Or does it go beyond that?  C’mon, Dad, this is the Nineties.”  Doctor Beckett vaguely remembered how everything in the Nineties had to be labelled as such, as if the final decade of the second millennium was supreme to all other eras.  Of course for him, it was, since he had leaped in 1995.

       “Thank you, Herby,” Paul finally said while he, Anita, and Catherine smiled at him for standing up to Walter.  “Oma, Opa...  could you please tell your son he’s acting like a ‚Dummkopf‘?”

       “Yeah, give it to this nozzle,” Al threw in as he and Ziggy were watching the discussion.  He was feeling shades of a leap long ago when the guy Sam had leaped into brought home a Japanese bride.  The two elderly people gave their grandson wan smiles but said nothing.  Even though Paul loved his family, he couldn’t believe that they were reacting this way.  Trying to shrug it off, he said, “Well, where’s the car?”

       “Out in the parking lot, dear,” Catherine answered softly.  “Come on, grab your bags and let’s go.  Herbert, get Anita’s things, would you?”

Sam did as he was asked, giving the Iranian woman a warm smile as he took her luggage from her.  “Welcome to America,” the leaper said, trying to make Anita feel comfortable.  She replied with a quiet thank you and joined her husband at his side as the family walked out to the car.

When they reached the vehicle and had put the bags in the trunk, Walter let out an exasperated sigh.  In German, he complained to his wife, “We have one too many people now.  How’re we supposed to get everyone home in one trip?”

“I think we’ll manage,” Catherine responded in English.  She could tell that her husband was upset, probably not only with their oldest son’s surprise wife, but also at Herbert’s sudden outburst.  Catherine was proud of both of her sons for not being prejudiced, and although she knew her husband’s view on “foreigners”, she had never expected something like this to come from him.  Growing up in Ireland did not impress Walter’s parents at first, but moving to Germany at age fifteen and then to the United States at age twenty had impressed them enough at the time, and they more than accepted her as one of their own now.  Deep in her heart, she knew they all could accept Anita as well, even if it took them ten years.

Manage they did, despite the extreme discomfort that Sam endured on the way back.  They had put the grandparents in the front with Mrs. Färber in the smaller seat between the driver’s and passenger’s seat.  In the back, Catherine sat behind her husband next to Anita, leaving Sam squished between the passenger’s side back door and Paul.  Physical discomfort wasn’t the only thing the leaper dealt with:  nobody spoke a word as the car hurtled down the road back toward the Färber’s’ house.

Al and Ziggy were floating beside the vehicle once again as the wind blew in Sam’s face.  The two had not much to say since they had left the train station and the Quantum Physicist was getting apprehensive, giving them a questioning look.

“Well, Sam, I think you know why you’re here.  You’ve gotta make sure that Walter and his folks accept Anita as part of the family.  Paul and Anita end up moving to Seattle a couple of months from now where they have a couple of kids, but one of them gets hit by a car in 1994,” Al reported sadly, getting an inconspicuous nod from his time-traveling friend.

Ziggy cleared her throat for attention and added to Al’s statement.  “Additionally, Doctor Beckett, Herbert Färber ended up dying in hospital a little over three months from now, but somehow, you have already changed that scenario just by leaping into his life.  I am double checking all of the data on him that I have collected as we speak, but nothing so far can tell me what you have done to prevent his death.”

Not knowing the answer to that either, Sam simply shook his head.  “Listen, we’ll come back later when we have a more definitive answer,” the observer said sarcastically as he glanced at Ziggy’s hologram, which gave him a bit of a glare herself. He pushed a button on the handlink, revealing the Imaging Chamber Door as Ziggy disappeared.  “Auf Weidersehen, Sam.”  The admiral waggled his fingers as he stood in the rectangle of light, and a moment later, he was gone too, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts.

PART FOUR

Friday, September 20, 1991

20:30 EDT

Färber household, Lancaster, Pennsylvania

After returning to the homestead and taking the luggage to Paul’s pristine room, the family were sitting, albeit uncomfortably, in the living room that looked like it too was furnished by the family-owned antique shop.  The grandparents were seated on a couch with Walter beside his mother in an overstuffed chair.  After having cleaned up the dinner dishes, Catherine was seated in a kitchen chair next to another sofa containing Anita, Paul, and Sam. Still nobody was saying anything, even after Catherine had offered everyone something to eat, receiving a negative response since Anita and Paul had eaten before boarding the train.

Paul was the one to finally break the silence.  “Well, Dad, aren’t we going to celebrate with a drink?  You can’t believe how much I’ve missed this place.”

Walter looked ready to throttle his son.  He obviously did not want to use any of his good wine on this unwelcome addition to the family, but grunting, he stood from his chair and left the living room toward the kitchen.  They heard heavy steps descending into the cellar.

“So, Anita, how did you and Paul meet?” Catherine questioned, taking her husband’s absence as an opening point for conversation.  “I’d like to know how my son met such a beautiful woman.”

Anita cracked a small smile at the complement and answered.  “I was the one who found Paul as he crawled toward our church, even though he had a broken leg and so many burns on his body,” she explained, a gentle but hard-to-place accent on her words.  “He was in bad need of care, and I nursed him back to health with the help of the others in our community.  It was the Christian thing to do.”

Catherine smiled and nodded as she listened to her new daughter-in-law’s words.  “Oh, that’s wonderful.  Our whole family thanks you for treating our son so well,” Mrs. Färber replied.  “And you speak English so well.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Färber, I learned it since I was a small child.  My church was established by a group of missionaries from Australia and taught all of us orphans their language,” Anita explained, getting a comforting squeeze of her hand from Paul.  Walter came stomping back up from the basement and they heard the squealing of cork against glass from the kitchen.  Excusing herself, Catherine went to join her husband in the kitchen.

Sam was watching the proceedings, unsure of what to do with himself.  It looked as though Catherine was more than accepting of Anita, but Walter seemed like a very stubborn man who wouldn’t change his mind any time soon.  Somehow, he had to keep them here in Pennsylvania, or at least away from Seattle, but Ziggy said that happened in a month.  Not only that, but he had somehow kept Herbert from dying just by being here, so he decided to “go with the flow” until Al could come back to give him some concrete information.

Walter and Catherine re-emerged from the kitchen, both with a glass of red wine in each hand.  The wife gave her two to Paul and Anita, and the husband to his parents.  They then went back to the kitchen and Catherine again had two glasses, giving one to Sam.

“Here’s to our son returning home,” Walter said excitedly in German.

“Walter, please,” Catherine demanded, her tone firm.  “English.”

“To the return of our son,” Walter repeated, lackluster, in English as they all raised their glasses.  „Prozit!“

After they had begun to sip, Sam decided to be bold and added, “And to the new addition to our family,” before taking his own drink.  Walter started to choke on his wine as he set down his glass on the coffee table and stood up, trying to clear his throat.  His mother stood up as well and began slapping him on the back.  „Ach, mein Leibling!“ the elderly woman declared.

The coughing stopped and they both retook their seats.  Everybody was averting everybody else’s eyes, and once again there was awkward silence.  “Thank you, Herby,” Sam heard Paul whisper in his ear. 

“Well, at least I made someone happy,” Sam mused in his mind.  He felt a faint tingling in his fingers, and shook his hand to be rid of it, figuring the wine was a little strong.

“This is some good wine, Dad.  D’you make it yourself?” Paul commented, trying to get back to a normal speaking relationship with his father.  He got an affirmative grunt in response.  Walter was obviously still fuming about Sam’s additional comment and his embarrassment that followed.

Finally, a vocal response came after Sam noticed that Catherine was holding her gaze on her husband.  “I made it the day you shipped out.”  Surprising Sam, he spoke this in English, but felt it wasn’t out of his own will.

Paul Färber’s mouth turned into a wide grin.  “That’s great, Dad.  Were you saving this for my return?” 

Walter nodded and blinked a few times, appearing to be trying to hold back some emotions.  “Of course, you’re my first-born son.”  Catherine smile faintly at the sentimentality of the gesture, still ashamed of her husband’s response to Anita, but glad that he was at least trying to stay on good terms with their son.  She probably couldn’t have done urged her husband so if Herbert had not been so adamant at the train station.  Perhaps with the three of them working on him, Walter just may be able to forget his prejudices.

Thursday, January 5, 2006

14:13 MST

Project Quantum Leap, Stallion’s Gate, New Mexico

Herbert Färber was all-alone in the Waiting Room, pacing around the table/bed in the middle of the strange room with blue walls that seemed endless.  He had been examining his reflection in the mirror, unsure of what was going on.  He was twenty-years old a few hours ago, and now he looked nearly fifty in addition to looking completely different!  The new face that stared back at him had a kind look, and the stray lock of white hair was out of place but interesting nonetheless.

Growing tired of walking back and forth, he decided to take a seat on the strange bed.  He placed his rear-end on the edge of it and then his hands to prop himself up, but a searing, horrible pain shot through his right arm.  “Auuuuggg!” he cried out as he fell to the ground, holding his arm in agony.  Herbert inspected his arm for the source of the pain, the unbearable aching beginning to cause his head to pound.  His gaze fell across his index finger, which had a crack in the skin.  Not a cut, but a crack.  Crying out in pain again, Herbert closed his eyes as the tears began rushing out.

The door to the Waiting Room opened and Verbena Beeks rushed toward the man cringing on the ground in absolute pain.  “Herbert, what is it?  What’s wrong?”  There was no response from the visitor as he wept from the pain and she gave him a thorough glance, finding the same crack on his finger’s skin, the edges looking almost black.  Why hadn’t anybody noticed it before?  “Ziggy, have Beth and a medical team down here immediately!” she called toward the ceiling.

“It’s all right, Herbert, help is on the way,” she soothed the man, trying to comfort him through her words and a hand on his left shoulder.  The next three minutes seemed to stretch on as she watched the man howl in agony.  Though she had a medical degree, Verbena had never even heard of something like this, and she could not discern if it was Herbert Färber or Sam Beckett who was being afflicted.

Beth Calavicci, the Project’s chief medical officer, rushed into the Waiting Room with a team of three paramedics behind her.  “What’s wrong with him?” Beth asked hurriedly as she kneeled beside the visitor.

Verbena stood up and let the medical team join Beth at Herbert’s side.  “I don’t know, Beth.  Ziggy told me he was hollering in pain, and when I came in, this is how I found him.  There’s some kind of crack in his skin on the right index finger,” Doctor Beeks reported.  Beth simply nodded and told the team to lift him up onto the bed.  Carefully, they did so, with Herbert screaming unbearably the entire time.

A thought hit the psychologist.  If Herbert was feeling this pain, was Sam in trouble, too?  “I have to go find Al,” Verbena said and ran out of the Waiting Room for the Control Room.  “Ziggy, where is the Admiral?”

“Admiral Calavicci is in the Control Room.  I noticed a slight change in Doctor Beckett’s life sign, and considering the visitor’s current condition, it may be prudent for the admiral to pay the good doctor a visit,” came the voice from above, sounding even and calm despite what was happening.  Doctor Beeks slowed her pace, finding herself a little out of breath, and reached the Control Room just as Al was about to step into the Imaging Chamber.

“Al!” she called as he turned on his heels upon hearing his name, the Imaging Chamber Door left open.  “Make sure Sam is all right.  Ask him any questions you can about how he’s been feeling.  Any little thing could be important.”

“You got it, ’Bena,” responded the admiral, and he stepped through the Door.  Spotting Ike at his satellite station in the Control Room, she walked over and asked him to join her in the Waiting Room.  “If anything, we can be familiar faces for him.  Herbert’s in extreme pain, Ike,” Verbena explained as they trekked back to the Waiting Room.  “You might need to translate for us again.”

The two took a brisk pace back to the Waiting Room to find Beth and her team trying to strap Herbert down to the table.  Doctor Calavicci reached into her medical bag and prepared a syringe, and once the visitor was sufficiently restrained, she injected the serum into his left arm.  Herbert quickly calmed down and seemed to relax his body.

“You two stay here and keep a good eye on him,” she said to a man and a woman who were standing by her side.  “Mori, you come back with me to the Infirmary.  I have a sneaking suspicion about what this may be.”  As she packed up her bag and the third paramedic headed on out of the Waiting Room before her, Verbena and Ike approached her.

“Well, Beth?  What happened to him?” Doctor Beeks demanded, glancing at the two nurses who were still standing by Herbert’s side.

Doctor Calavicci shook her head.  “I can’t be sure until I run some tests, but I believe it could be calciphylaxis:  it’s a rare illness linked to kidney disease.”  Picking up her bag and hurrying down the ramp toward the door, she looked back over her shoulder and said, “I’ll let you know as soon as I can be sure.” 

Beth was just about out the door when all four of the people watching her leave widened their eyes in shock as the medical doctor tripped and fell to the ground, landing on her bag.  They all scampered to her side and tried to help her back up, but now she was the one in pain.  “My ankle!  Oh, my ankle!  I think it’s broken!” she breathed as a few tears slipped from her eyes.

Friday, September 20, 1991

20:42 EDT

Färber household, Lancaster, Pennsylvania

Sam watched as the white rectangle of light remained there for a good ten seconds before Al finally stepped through.  When the admiral appeared, he gave the scientist a worried look.  “Hey, Sam, how’s it going?” he greeted somberly.  Glancing around at the quiet room, Al answered his own question.  “Not so well, I guess.”

“Well, I suppose we should be heading home,” Mr. Färber senior stated in German-accented English as he set down his now-empty wine glass.  Everybody in the room stood up as the elderly couple rose from the couch.  “It’s good to have you home, Paul,” the grandfather continued as he embraced his grandson.  Attempting to smile at Anita, but ending up with a strange grimace, the senior gentleman continued on toward the doorway to get the coats of him and his wife.

They donned their jackets and now it was the grandmother’s turn to smother Paul with kisses once more.  “You’re a good boy, but you made a bad choice,” she whispered to him, referring to Anita.  Paul made a similar face as his grandfather just had, and after everyone had said their good-byes, the grandparents got into their car and backed out down the laneway.

Walter closed the door after waving goodbye to his parents and turned around to see the rest of his family staring at him.  Anita had returned to the living room, so he started speaking German again.  “What?  Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Come on, Dad,” Paul said, for the first time in German.  “I can’t believe you’d be so bigoted toward Anita like that.  She’s my wife and I love her with all my heart.  Can’t you comprehend that?”

“No, I don’t think I can,” returned Walter.  “You married a citizen of an enemy country and expect us to immediately accept her into the family, especially without any warning of her coming?”

“How could I tell you about anything?  The Army just found me two weeks ago,” countered the son.  “I thought this family believed in acceptance and respecting each other.”

Walter shook his head as if to deny the entire situation.  “I’m sorry, son, but I can’t accept her.”  With that, he pushed his way through the crowd and stormed up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

“Sheesh, somebody should introduce him to the twentieth century,” commented the observer, getting an agreeing nod from Sam.  Unfortunately, Sam’s bobbing head didn’t get unnoticed by Catherine and Paul.

“What, now you’re agreeing with him?” Paul declared, his face growing red with anger.

“No, of course not, Paul.  I’m with everything you said.  If you love her, that’s all that matters,” Sam said quickly, trying to cover up his faux pas.  That seemed to please Paul and Catherine as they exchanged glances.

Putting a hand on her son’s shoulder, Catherine stated, “I’ll talk to your father.  You know how pig-headed he can be, but I’ll do everything I can.  I promise.”  The sergeant thanked his mother and gave her a quick hug before they returned to the living room to join Anita.  Sam, meanwhile, headed out the front door.  The evening air was cool against his skin, but refreshing after the heated conversation indoors.

“So, Sam, things aren’t looking too great, huh?  Ziggy says the odds of Paul and Anita staying here in Lancaster have gone up since you took your stand in the train station, but I’m afraid we have another problem on our hands,” the observer said as the leaper took a look up toward the stars that were beginning to twinkle in the sky.

“Have you found out how I saved Herbert’s life yet?” questioned the leaper as he returned his gaze to meet Al’s, ignoring the statement about additional trouble.  “I mean, isn’t it a little strange that my just leaping in here managed to keep him from dying in three months?”

Admiral Calavicci worked his mouth for a brief moment, trying to find the right words to say.  “How do you feel?  Anything out of the ordinary?  Anything at all?”

Doctor Beckett tilted his head to the side as if Al was asking him the concentration of oxygen in Mars’s atmosphere.  “What does that have to do with anything?” he questioned as the observer activated the goniospectrophotometer on the handlink.

“Just answer the question, Sam.”  There was no humor in the admiral’s voice.

Breathing a sigh of exasperation, Sam did as he was asked.  “I feel just fine, Al.  Never felt better, at least physically.  Oh, I guess the tip of my finger tingles from time to time, but I think it’s just from the wine or something.”

“Well, there was a bit of an incident in the Waiting Room.  Apparently Herbert is in a whole lotta pain, something to do with a crack in the skin on his finger.  Ziggy’s saying that could be the reason Herbert doesn’t die now.”  Al did not want to tell Sam the next piece of news, choking a bit as he still tried to digest the information.  Ziggy had to be wrong on this one, but he went on anyway, seeing that Sam was getting in-patient.  “She’s projecting with more than a ninety-nine percent certainty that, no matter what you do here, you aren’t going to leap.”

PART FIVE

Friday, September 20, 1991

20:58 EDT

Färber household, Lancaster, Pennsylvania

“Not going to leap?  What’s that supposed to mean, Al?  I have to leap.  It’s what I do!  I leap into someone’s life, fix the wrongs, and then leap out again,” Sam protested, not believing a word of what his observer was telling him.

“Hey, this is Ziggy talking, not me.  I’ll let you two battle it out,” Al commented as he pressed the button on the handlink to activate Ziggy’s hologram.  The holographic beauty appeared, wearing the same beige dress.  “All right, Ziggy, you tell him yourself.”

Ziggy raised an eyebrow at Al’s demand and met eyes with Sam.  “As the admiral already stated, there is a ninety-nine point four percent probability that you will not leap out of the aura of Herbert Färber.”

“You’ve been wrong before, Ziggy,” Sam shot back, angry that this wasn’t some kind of mistake.  The odds were too high for his liking in such a situation.

“I can only be as perfect as those who created me,” Ziggy replied tersely.

Biting his lip, Sam decided now was not the time to get into some kind of petty argument.  “All right, just tell me what happened in the original history and what’s going on in the Waiting Room.”

“About one week after Paul and Anita Färber left for Seattle, Herbert Färber was hospitalized.  The doctors were uncertain as to what was causing the condition, but the skin on his hands and feet was dying at an alarming rate.  There were no conclusive results, even after three biopsies, but one doctor suggested calciphylaxis could have been the problem.”  Ziggy took a pause to allow Al and Sam to absorb the information.  The leaper nodded his head, understanding everything so far.  “He was in the hospital for a month before he died on December 30, 1991.  Herbert had a kidney transplant when he was very young, but never had any related complications until now.  It seems as though his leap forward in time has accelerated the disease as he is now showing the first signs of calciphylaxis in the Waiting Room as we speak.”

“So now that you’re not going to leap, everyone’s going to think that Herbert is still alive, even if it’s you behind his aura,” Al stated as he quirked up his mouth.  “That’s not fair!”

Sam rolled his eyes.  “So I leaped in here only to have Herbert die in the future?  There’s gotta be a way for someone to cure him there and then he’ll leap back... right?  And what about Paul and Anita?”

Ziggy decided to take the initiative and answer Sam’s questions before Al could get a word in edgewise.  “Since the cause of calciphylaxis is unknown, it is quite difficult to devise a cure.  At the present, there is nothing that can be done to combat the disease.  Also, the dying flesh often leads to sepsis:  blood poisoning.  Sixty to eighty percent of all patients do not survive the repercussions of calciphylaxis while the rest require amputation.

“The probability of Paul and Anita staying in Lancaster are going up, but you must somehow convince Walter Färber to accept his daughter-in-law.  Considering that you most likely be here for quite some time, Doctor, you have a far better chance than if you were to leap out at any moment.”

The Quantum Physicist had taken all he could about this “no leaping” business.  His eyes burrowed into Ziggy’s with shear annoyance.  The hologram said, “Well, I know when my presence is not desired,” and quickly dispersed.

“Al, please find a way for me to leap.  I can’t stay here as Herbert for the rest of my life!” Sam said as Al looked at him with pity.

“I know, buddy.  That overblown calculator just doesn’t want to admit she could be wrong.  Listen, the only thing we found on you is probably a residual pain from Herbert.  You don’t seem to have the cal- cal-, the dead skin thing, so no worries there.”  Despite the situation, Sam smirked at Al’s stumbling over the medical term.  Some things never changed.

The light from the Imaging Chamber was brighter in the darkened outdoors as Al stepped into the light.  “I’ll be back as soon as I have some good news.  Good luck, Sam.”  With that, the door closed, and Sam was alone again.  Figuring the other Färbers may be wondering where he was, he went back into the house.

Thursday, January 5, 2006

14:41 MST

Project Quantum Leap, Stallion’s Gate, New Mexico

Walking down the ramp toward the Control Room, Al heaved an infuriated sigh.  “Ziggy, do you always have to be so full of doom and gloom?  This job is getting tougher on Sam all the time without you being so blunt,” he complained as he looked up at the globe of swirling blue energy.

“I was simply stating the truth, Admiral.  Certainly you wouldn’t have me lie to Doctor Beckett, as you have in the past,” the computer replied snootily.  “It can only lead to confusion and a possible mistake.”

Shaking his head, Al decided this wasn’t the time to argue with the egotistical hybrid computer.  Instead, he cleared his emotions and asked, “What’s happening in the Waiting Room?”

There was a slight pause while the computer considered how to answer.  Ziggy had been ready to argue the advantages of giving Sam only truthful information.  “Mr. Färber is currently under the care of two medical personnel, resting peacefully.”

The admiral began to walk out of the Control Room when he noticed that Dominic Lofton, the third chief programmer for Project Quantum Leap, was looking at him worriedly.  “What is it, Dom?”

“Al, I think you might want to pay a visit to the Infirmary.  Beth had a little accident,” Professor Lofton said as gently as he could, quickly glancing at Ike, who had joined him at his side.

“She might have broken her ankle,” Ike added with a sympathetic frown.  Without a word, Admiral Calavicci charged out of the Control Room, determined to see his beloved wife.

“Ouch!” Beth complained as Doctor Aurora Lofton, Beth’s second-in-command, continued inspecting the injured ankle.

“Now, now, just a few more minutes, Beth,” Aurora said gently, “although I’m already pretty certain that you have shattered a couple of bones.”  Doctor Lofton let go of Beth’s foot and looked up at her with concern.  “Morimoto will be in with the X-rays any minute now, so we can make a diagnosis then, si?”

Beth nodded with a frown.  Suddenly, she heard her husband calling out her name.  “In here, Al!” she replied.  The admiral appeared in her doorway a few seconds later, concern etched in his face.  He rushed to her and gave her a tight hug.  “What happened, honey?”

Her cheeks flushed with shame.  “I had just finished inspecting the visitor, and as I left the Waiting Room, I tripped on the doorframe and landed on my ankle at an awkward angle.  Aurora and I both think it’s broken.”  Doctor Calavicci swallowed hard, thinking of how this would hinder her abilities to continue being the Project’s head physician.

“Oh, Beth,” was Al could say as he took her back into his arms, kissing her on the top of the head.  “It’ll be all right, Aurora’s one of the best doctors I’ve ever seen in action, aside from you of course.” 

Giggling at his statement, Beth gave Al a loving look as Nurse Morimoto Ohara came in with a folder.  “Here are the X-rays, Doctor Lofton,” he said as he handed them to Aurora.  She thanked him and then mounted the first slide on the screen, flipping on the backlight.  “Oh oh, tsk tsk tsk,” Aurora said to herself.  “I was right, see these three here?  They’re all shattered.  My first guess is that you may have osteoporosis in your ankles.”

The Calavicci's took in sharp breaths in unison at the doctor’s statement.  “Is that serious?” Al asked, never really having been one to keep up with his medical knowledge.  Beth shook her head.  “Not really, but it does mean I’ll have to be a whole lot more careful with how I go about my daily routine,” she responded.

“Yes, I hate to say it, but you’re no spring chicken anymore,” Aurora kidded, getting a small chuckle out of Al, but Beth wasn’t amused.  “Oh, sorry, Beth, it was jus’ a joke.”

“No, you’re right, Aurora.  I may be getting too old for this job,” Doctor Calavicci replied.  “Maybe it’s time that I retired from practicing medicine.”

Al couldn’t believe he was hearing these words from his wife, one of the strongest women he knew.  “Beth, you can’t mean that.  You just had a fall, you’ll heal and be back in here in no time.”

Shaking her head negatively, Beth met her husband’s eyes.  “Al, face the facts:  we’re old and getting older.  I know you almost retired and ended up coming back with a vengeance, but I think I need to slow down a bit, especially if Aurora’s right about me having osteoporosis.”

“Beth, you just need a vacation while you heal.  I don’t think you really want to stop being a part of this project,” Aurora piped up, feeling like her kidding comment was spawning all of this talk of quitting.  “I tell you, we need you in the Infirmary.  You know how to run a medical bay better than anybody I’ve ever worked under.”

The compliments were appreciated, but Doctor Calavicci was pretty sure of the path that lay in front of her.  “Thank you, Aurora, but I’ve made up my mind.  I’m passing on the responsibilities of chief medical officer to you, effective immediately.  That’s an order.”

The admiral was stunned at his wife’s definite answer.  “Well, I can see we aren’t going to change your mind.  I’ll go along with your decision, Beth,” he said, trying to be supportive of his wife, even if he disagreed with her current position.

“Thank you, Al,” Beth replied, fighting back the tears of her emotional announcement.

“If you don’t mind, Al, I’d like to continue my analysis of your wife,” Doctor Lofton said, giving him a warm smile in an attempt to lift his spirits.  He nodded, kissed his wife, and left the Infirmary, heading for the elevators.  He needed some fresh air after hearing that his best friend may be trapped in someone else’s aura for good and that his wife was about to give up her career.

PART SIX

Saturday, September 21, 1991

13:22 EDT

Lancaster, Pennsylvania

Nobody except Catherine had seen or heard from Walter after he had gone upstairs the night before.  When they awoke in the morning, he was gone.  Sam, Paul, Anita, and Catherine enjoyed a small breakfast around eight o’clock before they got into the Färbers’ secondary vehicle and headed into town.  Today was when all of the major Oktoberfest festivities were going on in downtown Lancaster and Paul was quite excited to be able to show Anita the German celebration.

As they drove into town, Sam asked his leap-mother, “Did you talk to Dad last night?”

“I tried, but I don’t think he was listening, Herbert.  I just wish he’d told me where he was going this morning.  He might have joined the other men in setting up some of the booths as he was supposed to, but that wasn’t until nine o’clock,” she answered as she drove, slowing as they came to a stop sign.

The time-traveler could tell this struck deeply with her for a few reasons.  One, it was her son’s wife that was causing this grief.  Two, she had probably gone through the same thing, by the sounds of it, with Walter’s parents.  Three, she most likely despised racism as much as Sam did.

Upon reaching downtown, they found it bustling with people and music.  Rows of tables were lined up, some under tents and others in the open sunshine, some with people at them eating German delicacies and drinking frothy mugs of beer.  Catherine parked the vehicle behind the antique store, breathing a sigh of relief.  “Good, there’s his car,” she commented as the disengaged the engine of her own automobile.

The four of them exited the vehicle, and on an impulse, Sam tried the back door of the shop, only to find it locked.  “I guess he isn’t here,” the leaper announced dejectedly.  They walked around the building through the alley and came out onto the main street, which had been closed by police roadblocks to prevent any vehicular traffic from interfering with the festival. 

Paul pointed out some of the landmarks to Anita as they walked along, Sam and Catherine scanning the crowd for Walter.  Doctor Beckett was hoping that between the two of them, they could convince him to accept his daughter-in-law for whom she was and not judge her based on what she was.

The hours passed as they walked around the old-fashioned downtown area that was now converted into a large party.  Entire families were strolling around together, enjoying the beautiful weather and the cheerful atmosphere of Oktoberfest.

It was nearing five o’clock and the Quantum Physicist was beginning to wonder why he hadn’t heard from Al since last night.  If he was going to be stuck here for the rest of his life, he certainly wouldn’t let Al get off easily by visiting when he felt like it.

“Oh, there he is!” Catherine suddenly shouted, spotting her husband at one of the booths.  She took off in his direction, and Sam followed in her tracks as they left the sergeant and his wife behind.

“Walter, how dare you leave without telling us anything?” Catherine demanded as Walter held a beer in his hands, just about to sit down at a table.

“I didn’t feel like it,” he replied.  His wife questioned him in English but he answered in German.  “If I was going to spend my day here, I don’t want to be showing off Paul’s so-called wife.”

Sam felt this was the opportunity he had to take.  This man needed the reality knocked into him with a hammer, it seemed, so it was time to get tough.  “Dad, don’t you see the irony of this situation?  You went through the same thing when you met Mom.  Oma and Opa disapproved of her, right?  Now you’re doing the exact same thing to your son!  How did you feel back then?  I’ll bet Paul feels like that right now,” Sam said harshly and with an intensity that even took Catherine aback.

Walter blinked a few times at who he thought was his son.  “You’ve never talked to me like that before, Herbert.  How dare you say such a thing to me?”  It was hard to find the words to answer his son any further.  His cheeks puffed a couple of times before Sam spoke up again.

“It’s not right to judge her based on race, nationality, or religion.  Paul and Anita love each other, we can all see that except for you.  If you can show her that you accept her as part of the family, just as your parents did for Mom, don’t you think we’d all be a lot happier?  You wouldn’t want your son to move away just after coming home, would you?  Because that’s what’s going to happen if you keep this up.”  Sam was incensed.  He felt so strongly about the topic that sometimes he overstepped the bounds and forgot to act within the region that the leapee would in the same situation.  He also figured the public discussion might put more pressure on the middle-aged Färber, but nobody seemed to be listening to the conversation as they talked and laughed with one another.

Catherine put a hand on Walter’s shoulder, looking into her husband’s eyes.  “Our son is right, Walter.  We went through the same thing, and neither of us liked it one bit.  You can’t make Paul and Anita suffer the same humiliation.  Plus, I don’t want Paul moving away any time soon.  He loves Lancaster and would be miserable anywhere else.”  She was surprised to see his expression soften, almost to the point of tears.  He said nothing but nodded his head and licked his lips.

“Why... why don’t we have dinner?” he suggested as he placed his beer on the table.  “Paul and Anita must be hungry, too.” 

Catherine gave her husband a hug around the neck, and Sam watched with a big grin on his face, relieved that they had actually gotten through to Walter.  “Oh, you stubborn old man,” she said with a whimper.  Releasing Walter, they sat down together as Paul and Anita came over to join them.

“C’mon, let’s get something to eat,” Sam suggested to the married couple, the smile remaining on his lips.  “Dad insists.”  Paul began to smirk as well and clapped the leaper on the shoulder as the headed to one of the schnitzel booths.  If there was any time to leap, he felt it was now...  but nothing happened.

Friday, January 6, 2006

13:09 MST

Project Quantum Leap, Stallion’s Gate, New Mexico

Doctor Aurora Lofton left the Waiting Room, shaking her head with disbelief.  Doctor Verbena Beeks was right behind her, wanting to hear her thoughts.  “Aurora, what did you find?” Verbena questioned.  Admiral Al Calavicci was waiting outside for them.

“Well, Beth was right, it could be calciphylaxis.  Some of his skin is already turning black,” Aurora responded, seeming quite concerned.  “We even ran some biopsies, but they came back inconclusive.  I’m willing to be a year’s salary that it is calciphylaxis, though.  I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do for him.”

“That can’t be possible!” exclaimed Al, gesticulating his arms wildly.  “If we don’t cure him, Sam’s not going to leap.  We can’t have him stuck back there as Herbert Färber for the rest of his life!”

Verbena put up a hand, trying to calm them both down, but more so Al.  “Listen, there’s no reason to get excited.  What about putting Herbert into the Accelerator?  We’ve done that before.  It may not solve Herbert’s health problem, but at least Sam would leap out.”

Vehemently, Al shook his head.  “No, no way.  It’s too big a risk.  He could end up somewhere else, and we’d have two people lost in Time.  Not to mention, if we lost Herbert, Sam would never leap at all.  We may have been lucky before, but I’m not going to push that luck,” Al answered, less incited but stressed out nonetheless.

“Well, I’m going to go run a few more tests on Herbert’s samples.  You two behave, si?” Doctor Lofton said with mock seriousness.  When they nodded, she left them behind to discuss the possibilities.

“Now what?” the psychologist demanded.  “There has to be something Ziggy has overlooked.  Nothing else in Lancaster or Pennsylvania that Sam can fix to leap out?”

“Nope, Ziggy’s insistent that Sam was there to save Herbert’s life as well, so he’s still there.  She might have been right on this one after all,” the admiral replied and nervously adjusted his string tie.

As Aurora entered the Infirmary, she was surprised to see Beth Calavicci in her own office, crutches leaning against the side of the oak desk.  “Beth, what are you doing up and around?  They may be right when they say doctors make the worst patients.”

“Aurora, come look at this,” Beth said, ignoring the statement.  “I think I might have found the solution to Herbert’s problem.  Normally, calciphylaxis affects those who have recently had kidney transplants and are on a dialysis machine.  Herbert had the transplant when he was young and never was on dialysis, so his case wasn’t as severe, but the calciphylaxis still came to him quickly.  However, there’s a test medication that came out on the private market two weeks ago that I read about dealing with necrosis.  It’s a long-shot, but I’ve already had a rush order put in directly to the complex.”

Aurora stared blankly at Beth.  “So, there might be a way to save him after all?”

Doctor Calavicci nodded, a smile crossing her lips.  “I think we may have just found a way to let Sam leap.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?  You did all the work, mi amiga!  Maybe you’re not ready to retire after all, si?” Aurora beamed.  “How long until the medicine gets here?”

Beth grinned knowingly.  “Three hours.  I called in a couple of favors to get it here as soon as possible.  The quicker we can get Herbert healed the better chance he has of recovering.”

Doctor Lofton playfully put her fist to Beth’s shoulder.  “What about you?  Changed your mind about quitting the business?”

Moving her head from side to side, Beth smiled again.  “If it’s all right with you, I think I’ll be more of an advisor from now on.  I certainly can’t be making any more house calls, so I’d like you to be the chief physician of the Project, as I said before.”

“Oh, thank you, Beth.  I don’t know what we would do without you around to keep things straight!” Aurora replied.  “I’ll go give Al the good news.  You stay here and keep off that ankle!”

“Yes, Doctor,” the injured Beth answered with a friendly salute.

Al and Verbena had moved their discussion to the Control Room.  Ike had approached Al and spoken with him about Ziggy’s new hologram for a few minutes, glad to hear that it was working flawlessly.

“If only Stephen was here to see it put to use for the first time,” Ike commented.  “I can imagine his face beaming with pride when you say it works so beautifully.  When are he and Donna coming back?”

“Tomorrow evening,” Al answered.  “They’ve gone with Donna’s father to see some caverns in the northern part of the state.”  It was upon the insistence of the admiral that they take up Mr. Wojehowitz’s offer for the two-day trip, knowing that Donna and her son didn’t get to see Stephen’s grandfather very often.

Doctor Bentenhoff had to leave and Al rejoined the conversation with Verbena, getting Dominic and Sammy Jo in on the discussion as well.  Ziggy was getting miffed from being ignored as the four brainstormed on ways to get Sam to leap and decided to keep to herself until somebody spoke to her directly.

Bursting into the Control Room, Aurora charged over to the people clustered around the main console.  “Beth found a way to save Herbert!” she exclaimed with untamed enthusiasm.  “Well, we’re not one-hundred percent sure it’ll work, but it’s our best hope.  There’s going to be a helicopter delivering the medicine here in three hours.”

“Way to go, Beth!” Sammy Jo exclaimed.  “Gee, I hope she doesn’t make this her last commitment to the Project.”  She noticed Al’s dejected look and bit her lower lip, wishing she hadn’t brought up Beth’s announced retirement.

“Don’t say that yet, she’s decided to keep on as an advisor while passing her title on to me,” Doctor Lofton reported, radiating excitement for both of them.  Dominic’s jaw nearly dropped and he embraced his wife, congratulating her, and also gave Al a pat on the back.  “No need to worry about being the only breadwinner now, eh, Al?” he joked.

Al chuckled and stepped forward toward Ziggy’s orb.  “Ziggy, why didn’t you say anything about this before?”

“I had no knowledge of the medicine about which Doctor Calavicci read.  As it stands now, I give Doctor Beckett a fifty percent chance of leaping.  It will be at least three hours until I can know for certain,” the hybrid computer responded haughtily, still annoyed at being ignored for so long.

“Great, fifty percent is better than ninety-nine!” Al cried as he picked up the handlink.  “Dom, fire up the Imaging Chamber.  Sam’s gonna love this!”

Al stepped into the Imaging Chamber as the swirling tornado of images spun for a few seconds before the world expanded in front of him, finding himself standing behind Sam as he and Herbert’s parents were singing something in German.

“Wow, looks like you’ve been having fun, Sam.  Too bad I can’t join ya!” the observer commented.

“Al!” the leaper responded, stepping back from Catherine and Walter and between two booths to get some privacy.  “Al, I did it, I got Walter to accept Anita into the family.  Does Ziggy know that?  Huh?”

A smirk came across Al’s face.  “Sam, you’re drunk, aren’t you?  I can tell, you have that little twinkle in your eye.”  Sam tried to become serious, but couldn’t help from smiling.  “All right, yes, Ziggy already told us about that.  Now, I have news for you, buddy.  Beth found a way to help cure Herbert’s disease, so you’re gonna be outta here in three hours!  I guess she was that point-six percent Ziggy didn’t count on.”

Sam simply stared at the admiral.  “Oh wow, that’s great news, Al!  I figured sticking around for the weekend wouldn’t be so bad, I was getting so used to this.  I love Oktoberfest!” 

Al Calavicci laughed out loud at Sam’s joviality.  It was going to be some three hours!

Once the helicopter had come and gone, the medication was rushed to the Waiting Room.  Aurora, in her first official capacity as Project Quantum Leap’s chief medical officer, followed Beth’s instructions to the letter in administering the medication.

“Now, Herbert, this is going to help you get better, si?” Doctor Lofton soothed as she sat on the side of the bed.

“Oh, that would be great, Doctor,” Herbert answered, much to her surprise in English.  “Hey, I understood you that time!  My English has come back!”  Aurora smiled down at him, knowing he wouldn’t need it here much longer.

Back in the Imaging Chamber, Al was still hanging around with Sam, when suddenly Ziggy’s hologram activated itself, nearly making Al drop the handlink.  “Doctor Beckett, I am happy to inform you that there is now a one-hundred percent chance that you will leap within the next five minutes.  Doctor Lofton has just administered the experimental medication to Herbert Färber and my sensors indicate that there is already a recession in some of the necrosis.”

“Hey, that’s great, Ziggy!  I guess you owe us an apology, huh?  Oh, and I like the change of clothes,” Sam responded as he took a large sip of beer.  Al was amazed at how much fun he was having just watching Sam at the festival.

“I suppose you’re correct, Doctor, and thank you for noticing.  I have been searching the Internet for various wardrobes for different occasions.  This one fits in perfectly with Oktoberfest.”  Al was nearly busting his gut at her traditional German woman’s outfit.

Sam shook his finger at Al.  “I wouldn’t talk, Al.  I’ve seen you in much worse.”

“Me?  Why Sam, I oughta...” Al began, but before he could finish his sentence, the Imaging Chamber was a large, blue room once more, and he was left standing beside Ziggy.

“Well?” Ziggy asked.

The admiral looked at Ziggy with confusion.  “Well what?”

“You ought to what??” the hologram asked with innocence.

“Never mind, Ziggy.”

EPILOGUE

Time had no longer stopped. Life began to seep in as the molecules of Dr. Sam Beckett began to reassemble into a Nobel Prize winning physicist. Sam found himself hunched over slightly being pounded on his back. Looking up he saw a khaki U.S. Army uniform standing among several soldiers and male and female civilians. All eyes were looking directly at him while laughing heartily.

“So how did the President take it?  You really put one over on him, didn’t you?” asked this fellow with wild eyes and almost as wild a mustache wearing patchless Army khakis standing next to Sam.

“The President? Of the United States?” gulped Sam as he stood up straight nervously watching the eyes that were listening intently. Laughter filled the small cabin they were in.

“You know? The guy that lent us this plane?” Mr. Mustache said as the soldiers and civilians laughed at him.

Sam looked around the plane finally feeling the vibration of the engines. He must have leaped into the middle of an impromptu performance. Scratching his head he gave a typical early leaping reply. “He took it well, I hope,” exclaimed Sam shrugging with barely a crack of a smile.

Mr. Mustache’s eyes bugged out as he twirled his mustache. “Ah, ho! Me Tarzan, YOU Jane. No, me Colonna. You, Hope!”

“Um, right? Uh! Ah-ah-ah-ah!” Sam said beating his chest in a very weak imitation of Johnny Weissmuller. . “No, me, Tarzan. And I gotta to swing outta here.”

Mr. Mustache cocked one eye to the ceiling and then looked to the small audience. “Into something funnier, I hope. No. That’s you,” he said poking Sam followed by breaking into song that concluded with several bars of off-pitch yodeling.

Sam just waved weakly to more applause as he headed toward the back of the plane. He received several more backslaps and handshakes from civilians and soldiers as Sam looked down both sides of the aisle. Judging from the makeup and liberal use of hairspray Sam figured he was in the Nineteen Sixties. Near the back of the plane Sam found his usual hideaway, which contained the throne with the flip-up seat.

“Just a minute, honey,” a sweet high-pitched voice called out to him after he knocked frantically.

Out stepped a blonde with her hair piled high on her head, deep green eyes, an Elizabeth Taylor makeover and enough curves to burn out Al’s eye sockets.

“Oh, hi boss. Just dabbing on a fresh coat,” she said winking at him.  “All yours, sugar.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile as she floated down the aisle. Entering his office Sam slammed the door behind him trying to remember if he had ever suffered from stage fright. Through the tiny round window nothing but trees flew by dotted by low white fluffy clouds. Nothing indicated what country or continent that was passing underneath him.  In the cramped little room Sam turned around and splashed water on his face from the tiny metal sink. Drying off his face he saw in the mirror a round faced middle-aged man wearing a baseball cap marked Bangkok 346^th Tactical Bombing Wing. The look of puzzlement was pure leaping Sam Beckett, but the face, chin and ski nose looked more than familiar.

Looking at the hat he realized where he was. “OK, I’m back in Viet Nam. No mistaking that, but this isn’t exactly a military mission here. Maybe it’s an airlift of mixed Americans. Maybe we’re a group of American nationals escaping the Viet Cong,” Sam said to himself cocking up one eyebrow.

He looked over his khaki military jacket and found ten stars on each shoulder and elsewhere two-dozen military patches sewn onto the front and back. On his lapel was a black-stenciled name patch that was very difficult to read backwards.

“A name. Thank God. B. O. B. H. O. P. E. Bob Hope. Bob Hope? Bob Hope?” He kept repeating the name as he ran it through his Swiss cheese memory. Many things often sounded familiar to him, but he had long lost what the memories were connection to. Finally Sam made the necessary neurological connection. “HOPE! BOB HOPE? HIM? NO! I’M SUPPOSED TO BE A COMEDIAN! Oh, Boy!”