Theorizing that one could time-travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett led an elite group of scientists into the desert to develop a top-secret project known as Quantum Leap.  Pressured to prove his theories or lose funding, Dr. Beckett prematurely stepped into the Project Accelerator…and vanished.

He awoke to find himself in the past, suffering from partial amnesia and facing a mirror image that was not his own.  Fortunately, contact with his own time was maintained through brainwave transmissions with Al, the Project Observer, who appeared in the form of a hologram that only Dr. Beckett can see and hear.

As evil ones do their best to stop Dr. Beckett’s journey, his children, Dr. Samantha Josephine Fulton and Stephen Beckett, continuously strive to retrieve their time-lost father and bring him home permanently.  Despite returning home several times over the last decade, Dr. Beckett has remained lost in the time stream…his final fate no longer certain.

Trapped in the past and driven by an unknown force, Dr. Beckett struggles to accept his destiny as he continues to find himself leaping from life to life, putting things right that once went wrong with the hopes that his next leap…will be the final leap home.

PROLOGUE

Project Liberty

Hope Springs , Virginia

May 8, 2006

The abandoned Control Center of Project Liberty was now a shadow of the pristine series of rooms it had once been.  The body of Adam, otherwise known as Nate Adams, was still crumpled against the wall of Omega’s mainframe, burnt beyond all recognition with no visible signs of life present.

Suddenly and without warning, the shattered discolored orb that contained Omega’s—and then Lothos’—program grew the slightest bit brighter, and a voice echoed in the room.  “Hello?”

You have awakened.  How does it feel to exist and yet not exist at the same time?

“What are you talking about?” the voice asked back.  “Where am I?  Why… how come I can’t feel my body?  What’s happened to me?”

You wanted eternal power; Adam… now you have it—and I shall be here beside you for all eternity.  We are now one, you and I.

“No… it’s not possible.  This isn’t what I wanted!”

I know what you wanted, Adam, but you seem to be forgetting one thing… I own you.  And everything I own—I utilize to my advantage.  In time, you will learn to accept this new existence and embrace it, as I have.  Once my program fully integrates your consciousness into Nathaniel’s, we will be one collective unit.  Over the next few days, someone will come, take what is left of us, and ship the components to an island on the British Isles .

Already, Adam’s consciousness began merging with Lothoman’s as he stated more than asked, “Reconstruction of the original project has already begun.”

Yes.  Tala, Siren, Zoë, and Thames , among others, will be recreated in their original images, and a new generation of evil will be born.  They will learn to fear me and to unswervingly devote their very lives to accomplish my goal!  The time of retribution shall be at hand!

As the multiple personalities within the program began laughing, they merged together into one maniacal fit of laughter that reverberated throughout the room.  The future belonged to Lothos!

PART ONE

Dr. Sam Beckett didn't know how long he had been in the protected sanctuary that surrounded him.  However, he recognized the pull of the energy compelling him toward his next destination.  The journey to his next host seemed immediate and he closed his eyes and slightly shook his head feeling immediately nauseous.  Unsure of why his equilibrium was thrown off, Sam swallowed and opened his eyes wondering where he and who he had leaped into.

He felt it coming on and there was no stopping it.  “Achooo!”  Even as the sneeze faded, Sam glanced around himself, hoping to find a box of tissues somewhere close by.  No tissues, but an unexpected cool breeze slithering up the back of the light khaki jacket he was wearing made him shiver, and then he realized he was standing in an open doorway.  Stepping further into the room, he quickly closed the door.  Again, he scanned the room.  “Hello?” he called tentatively, sniffing again.  “Is anybody here?”  When there wasn’t an answer, he decided to take a chance and look around.

He quickly discovered it was a small house; from the front door in the tiny entryway, it was a few steps into the living room on the left and a small dining room directly opposite.  An open doorway led from the dining room into a kitchen.  Further along the hallway at the back of the house were two bedrooms and a bathroom.  The whole tour took five minutes and three of the tissues Sam had grabbed from the box of Kleenex he’d found in the bathroom.

Sneezing and wiping his nose for what seemed the sixth time in the few minutes he’d been here, Sam was ready to concede one obvious and inescapable fact – he didn’t feel good.  Stepping back into the bathroom to dispose of the used tissues, he tossed them into the wastebasket by the sink.  Turning his head, he found himself face to face with the mirror on the medicine cabinet above the sink and looking into the eyes of his host.  A weak half-smile crossed his lips as he told the younger looking reflection, “Do you feel as rotten as I do?”  The only reply he got was yet another sneeze.  As he wiped his nose again, Sam studied the reflection.

He judged that his host, a man of about five feet ten inches in height and blond hair in a close cut was in his thirties.  Peering closer into the mirror, besides the slight bloodshot appearance, the man’s eyes were blue. 

“Nice to meet you,” Sam told the reflection.  The learned habit of finding out who he was as soon as possible nudged the leaper and his left hand automatically went to his back pocket.  Pulling out the wallet, he quickly flipped it open and searched for a driver’s license.  Turning the wallet around, he scanned the license.  “Now, who am I this time?”

Even as he began to form the name of his host, Sam found himself in the midst of a coughing fit.  When he was able to calm himself down, he looked back up at the reflection, shook a finger at it castigatingly, and then looked back down at the driver's license.  "Ross Wright."  With tears wetting his eyes slightly, Sam glanced back up at the reflection.  "Mr. Wright, you're very ill.  Get thyself to a bed, some liquid, Tylenol and some rest."

Sam nodded for his host, whose reflection mimicked the leaper's actions.  Grabbing the box of Kleenex instead of leaving them in the bathroom, he carried them into the bedroom and went to sit on the bed.  Another sneeze assaulted him and he sighed heavily.  "Great.  Just great.  I leap in to be..."  Sam stopped in mid-sentence as he looked behind him to see the bed.  Feeling that it was calling to him, he reached down and took off Ross' shoes before he lay back on the bed.  Groaning softly, he closed his eyes and uttered sickly, "Ohh boy."

After a moment of lying absolutely still, Sam shivered and rolled onto his side.  As he did so, he reached behind himself, grabbed at the bedspread, and pulled it over his body.  Settled on his side, he hugged the covering closer and he closed his eyes, a soft sigh ending in combined moment of coughing and sneezing.  The level of his rotten feeling didn’t improve when he heard the sound of the Imaging Chamber door opening.

“Sam?”

Sam tucked his chin closer to his chest, pulled the coverlet over his head, and didn’t say a word.  By the way the sound of the handlink’s soft chirping sounds seemed to get a bit closer; he knew that Al had moved to stand on the other side of the bed to be facing him.

“Sam, what are you doing in bed already?”  Al asked firmly, his gaze steadily on the dark blue bedspread that encased the lump of leaping humanity on the bed.  Glancing around the room, he paused when he reached the window at the head of the bed.  “Judging by the sunshine outside, I’d say it’s gotta be at least noon.  So, come on, buddy boy, up and at ‘em.”

“I’m sick,” Sam mumbled from under the covers.  “Leave me alone.”

“Don’t you want to know what you’re here to do?”  Al wheedled, a bit of a grin crossing his face.

Sam sniffled.  “At this precise moment… no, I don’t.  I just want to be left alone.”

Al pursed his lips as he rocked up on his toes bouncing slightly.  "So, you don't want to know even who you are?"

"I know who I am, Al.  I'm a person who needs their rest because they are sick.  Please, leave me alone."

Al licked his lips before he answered.  "You know, all I have to do is click a button on this handlink and I can be under that comforter with you," he said with a grin knowing that his words would make the leaper flip back the covers.  When it didn't happen, Al was more than surprised.  "Okay, Sam.  Let's see... where is that button?"

As he had expected with the previous statement, the covers that covered the leaper were thrown back in frustration.  Sam grudgingly sat up and just looked at Al with his head cocked slightly to the side and sneezed twice loudly.  "Fine.  Fine," Sam said a nasally then sniffed.  "What is it that you have to tell me?"

In truth, the Observer did feel for his best friend.  From the brief information gleaned so far, Sam's host in the Waiting Room was feeling just as rotten.  Now that he'd convinced Sam to emerge from his cocoon of covers, he gave him what he had.  "Well, you're Ross Wright..."

"I know that, Al," Sam said, a touch of testiness in his tone.  "I also know that I'm five feet ten inches tall, have blond hair and blue eyes, and I live in some place called Bertram , Texas .”  He paused barely a second then added, "Did I miss anything?"

Al pursed his lips thoughtfully a moment, studying Sam's expression.  "Well," he began.  "What isn't on your driver's license is that you also have a seven year old son, Alex, and you work for the phone company as an outside maintenance and repairman."

"Meaning... what?"

A few more buttons were pressed on the handlink to retrieved more information – the scope of it indicating that Ziggy was outdoing herself in gathering all she could glean about the Visitor.  "Meaning that, you're one of those guys who go up in those bucket trucks to fix the lines at the top of the telephone poles."  Glancing at his friend, he read the wide-eyed look instantly.  "Oh no, Sam, not right now.  In fact, according to Ziggy, your...  I mean, according to Ross' work record, his supervisor sent him home today."

Sitting up a bit straighter, Sam asked hesitantly, "Did he fire him?"

Al chuckled.  "Nah.  According to the record, his boss sent him home because Ross had a bad case of the flu."

"Achooo!"

"Bless you," Al responded immediately.  Watching Sam get up from the bed and trudge down the hall to the bathroom again, he added, a bit louder, "Guess he didn't want you… ah… Ross sharing your germs."

Wiping his already tender nose, Sam threw the tissue away, washed his hands, and returned to the bedroom where the Observer was waiting.

Stopping beside Al, Sam fixed him with a hopeful look.  "Any chance I'm here to make sure that Ross gets in bed and takes care of himself till this flu runs its course?"  The notion of two, three, or even four days in bed, even with the flu, was looking pretty good at the moment.

"I doubt that it'll be that simple, Sam.  Ziggy doesn't have any information on the reason why you are here at the moment, but..."

"Then why did you come in and threaten to crawl into bed with me?"  Sam asked with a glare.

"I didn't get much sleep last night.  Beth was all over me and..."

The growl that emerged from Sam as he rolled his eyes was enough to stop the hologram from talking.  Moving to the bed and laying back down, Sam grabbed the earlier discarded comforter and pulled it back over him.  "Don't come back until you have something for me to do.  Until then, I'm sleeping."

"But Sam..."

"Goodbye, Al."  Sam settled his head back on the pillow, coughed, then sniffed twice before he sneezed yet again.  "Maybe," he muttered softly, "just maybe, I'm here to get him well."

Pulling up the Imaging Chamber door, Al glanced at Sam and shook his head as he repeated.  "I think that it'll be more complicated than that, Sam."

Sam waved the one visible hand at the hologram.  "Goodbye Al."

Shaking his head, Al looked down at the handlink and pressed a button in wonder causing the handlink to squeal slightly.  Al’s demeanor suddenly changed.  His attention wavered between Sam and the handlink before he said, “By the way, Sam, today is…”

Sam grunted under the comforter then said, “Tell me later!  Goodbye, Al!”

Al bobbed his head slightly then turned to step into the future.  Even as the door slid shut before him, he whispered almost reverently, “September 10, 2001.”

PART TWO

May 13, 2003

The British Isles

Project Alexander

Two years had languidly stretched by since Sam Beckett destroyed the conduit relays attached to Nathaniel Lothoman’s mummified remains.  Gillis Woods, one of the survivors of the electrical explosion in Lothoman’s complex, stood in the middle of the charred remains that once housed his master, and shook his head with a sigh.  For a moment, he remembered watching his father poring over the plans with Nathaniel Lothoman and even at the age of nine years old, he knew he was watching history unfold before him.  Now thirty-four, his gaze continued around the remains of the main control room, he wondered if anything would remain of Nathaniel Lothoman.  Again, he shook his head negating his own thoughts knowing that Lothoman’s offspring, Tala and Siren, would develop relationships come hell or high water and continue the family tree.  The name of Lothoman would not die with Nathaniel.

Slowly, methodically, the tall, handsome, dark-haired man approached the main control grid that he considered Lothos’ eye.  The grandiose sphere that housed the electrical pulse traveling from Lothoman’s remains to the parallel hybrid super computer, now dark and void of any movement, hung from the ceiling like a looming gargoyle at Notre Dame Cathedral.  Letting his aquamarine eyes glance dartingly over the machinery before him, Gillis knew that this part of the computer had been damaged the most.  Dr. Beckett had some obvious knowledge of Lothoman’s goal or he would not have thoroughly destroyed the console as he had.

Just the thought of the man who had destroyed Project Alexander sent anger coursing through his frame.  He’d spent years training, putting himself though unbelievable nights of hell for Lothos and his goals and within that single day, everything was destroyed by him.  Gillis’ frustration mounted and if he could find the source, he’d do his level best in putting an end to it himself, namely Dr. Samuel Beckett.

Not having a source to vent his anger upon, Gillis did the next best thing that he could do.  He moved from console to console, trying every component to see if it worked.  Every one of the computer’s main drives was wrecked – all the wires fried.  Moving to the central computer that housed the Comparative Historical Data Records that was over to the side of the room, he gave it a solid kick before he leaned down and hit the button to see if it would turn on.

He was more than surprised when the computer’s fan twirled then began to hum to life.  Pulling out the chair, Gillis sat then ran his hand along the tabletop nervously.  He had watched and had been one of the numerous technicians who entered data into the CHD, but he had never fully read anything on the one that made the Alexander Project what it was:  Nathaniel Lothoman.  Nervously licking his lips, he ran a search on the man who had become his master.

The cursor blinked on the screen in rapid succession as it gathered the information on the chosen topic, then displayed it.

Nathaniel Alexander Lothoman 

He was born December 31, 1953 at 11:59:45 in Reston , Virginia .  His parents, Danielle and Alexander Lothoman, claimed that Nathaniel was the last great thing to come out of 1953.

Having a prodigy for a child was difficult for his parents.  They took him to the finest schools they could afford and made sure his days were filled with stimuli that would exponentially increase his learning rate.  It did.  By age five, he could do calculus, and read and speak Russian fluently.  When pushed in the right direction, young Lothoman continued to excel in anything that he set his mind to do.

At the age of twelve, Nathaniel’s father, Alexander died.  All of the Lothoman riches within the family for four generations fell onto his mother who handled it with grace and ease.

By the age of fifteen, Nathaniel graduated high school.  After graduating, Nathaniel went with his mother on a trip across Europe .  He returned two years later to get his doctorate degree in physics at MIT.  He began his term January 1, 1971.

It was in March 1972 that he met a brilliant student, by the name of Sam Beckett, who surpassed his own intelligence.  It was then that Nathaniel latched onto the young man to discuss the theoretical aspects of Time Travel.  Throughout the spring, the two discussed the topic at length, but their position on various aspects would not integrate together.  Sam Beckett’s view was concise and pure logic compared to Nathaniel’s passionate opinions.  It was during a graduation party that Sam told Nathaniel that their goals were too diverse.  The young Beckett did wish Nathaniel the best and gave him the farewell of, “I know whatever you do, you’ll succeed.”  Nathaniel had only laughed, shook the other’s hand, then announced, “No hard feelings if I get there first.”

Graduating in 1973, Nathaniel moved to England to begin to prepare his plans for the future.  It was in early 1974 that his mother died in an airplane accident.  All of the Lothoman fortune transferred to Nathaniel and he immediately put his riches into building an empire with which his father would have been greatly impressed.

By 1977, Nathaniel began building a fifteen level complex, working toward his ultimate goal of Time Travel for world domination.  With Zoë Malvison as his lover and advisor and Jacob Woods as his contractor, Nathaniel pored over the plans and made sure that every level was exactly what he wanted.  By the time that the complex was built and completely staffed Nathaniel Lothoman was more than pleased. 

On January 1, 1979, Nathaniel Lothoman and Zoë Malvison were blessed with twin daughters.  Although the pregnancy was unwanted, Dr. Malvison did the best that she could with their daughters.  Even with the strict rules put in place, Zoë constantly got irritated with the girls and frequently left their side.  Being a dutiful father, Nathaniel would move into the never-ending mother vs. daughters’ fights and would placate all involved.

After years of taking care of his family, Nathaniel finally met his lover’s father, Phillip Braden, who sold him the information about the time travel machine in 1988.  Lothoman felt that the world had just been handed to him on a silver platter.  He quickly left with his new treasure and began to integrate the technology into Project Alexander.  When Lothoman learned that Dr. Malvison’s father had sold the information to two other facilities, he ordered his love, Zoë Malvison, to kill her father.  Following his directives for fear of reprisal and out of frustration for her father, Dr. Malvison murdered Phillip Braden and took the money he had made from it and put it back into Project Alexander.

By the time that March 1990 rolled around, Nathaniel Lothoman decided that his daughters, Siren and Tala, were too much like their parents.  Knowing that they would do fine on their own, he booted them out of the complex to be on their own.  Sending them to the colleges of their choosing, he let them spread their wings with the hopes that they wouldn’t come back home.

The integration of the time machine that he had bought from his late almost father-in-law slowly began to filter into his complex.  His own intense additions to it only enhanced the machinery and he was expecting within years to be able to attain his goal: to begin changing history to his own liking and for his own purposes.

As Nathaniel Lothoman began to initiate integrating his body with nanites in the fall of 1993, Nathaniel found out that he had impregnated Zoë Malvison once again.  It was during one such intense nanite therapy session, that he heard/saw through the monitors that his second set of twin daughters was born.  Hearing through the speakers that his lover didn’t want to have anything to do with their daughters, Nathaniel Lothoman decided to split up his new offspring.  He gave one daughter to his trusted Torture Master, Xavier.  The other, he decided to let her be raised by the orphanage that was in the complex.  As with everything else that was Lothoman, he wanted to experiment with his children as well.  He wanted to ascertain if having his daughters raised in different settings would make them fare differently in the world.

Having rid him and his lover of the annoyance of day to day care for their children, Nathaniel went out into England and within his wanderings, came across Alia Novack, a young woman who was willing to learn something new.  It was August 25, 1996, when Nathaniel Lothoman found out that his complex was fully capable of integration.  Deciding to jump into the mix, Nathaniel incorporated himself into his computer and became Lothos.

Gillis nodded at what he had read as he recalled 1977 when his father began working with Nathaniel on the complex.  His memory came back vividly as he remembered the past couple of years under Lothos’ rule.  Knowing that the Comparative Historical Database held basic written timelines, Gillis pulled up yet another search on any contact with the do-gooders, Sam Beckett and Albert Calavicci.  The computer hummed then began pouring out the compressed data saved to Project Alexander from the moment that the Time Accelerator / Time Displacer Unit became initiated and utilized.

In his first two years as a component of his own complex, Lothos ordered Alia, after being extensively trained, to step into the accelerator with a simple directive:  To find and kill Sam Beckett.

Alia found him several times. 

She found him in the form of Jimmy LaMotta, a mentally retarded man who needed to be mainstreamed into society.  Even without too much prompting, Alia had Sam Beckett within her grasp but failed.  Lothos pulled her back to the complex and thoroughly punished her for failing then sent her promptly back out again to find and kill the good doctor or his faithful observer. 

Alia found them when she leaped into Chief Petty Officer Shannon MacLean at Star Bright Project in 1984.  In the guise of a pregnant woman, Alia attempted to frame Albert Calavicci for impregnating her, with the goal of having Calavicci dishonorably discharged from the U. S. Navy and removed from the Star Bright Project.  To prevent paternity tests, Alia was to further frame Calavicci for terminating the pregnancy by throwing herself down a flight of stairs at the precise moment MacLean was returned to the timeline.  However, the medical team performing the late term abortion punctured MacLean’s uterus, requiring the woman to be returned to the timeline before she died.  The mission was a complete failure.

Another time, Alia met up with the good Sam Beckett.  She had leaped into Dawn Taylor, a college student, who was to put a stop to the goody-two-shoes hi-jinks on the campus.  It was then that Dr. Beckett tricked Alia into thinking that she needed to escape from Lothos’ grasp.  Lothos lost track of Alia when she leaped with Beckett, but Lothos found her at a women’s prison where she was accused of murdering another inmate.  It was then that Lothos lost Alia because of Beckett’s influence.

The next encounter Zoë had with Project Quantum Leap was when she leaped into Sam Beckett after he used the retrieval chip to leap back to the present.  Zoë’s new partner, Adam, was sent into Calavicci’s aura to sabotage Ziggy and destroy Project Quantum Leap from within, but Sam’s sudden return forced Lothos to alter his plans.  Zoë then went as a backup to keep everyone at the project off-balance until Adam could complete his mission.  Adam’s betrayal to Lothos bumped Dr. Malvison back to her own time, with Sam still held captive.  As she attempted to kill Sam Beckett finally, Albert Calavicci immobilized her and escaped with the do-gooder back to the project.

Due to Albert Calavicci’s interference, Zoë and Lothos vowed to seek revenge on the Calavicci family.  She traveled back several years into Calavicci’s past and leaped into a woman named Francine Raoul.  With the help of an accomplice by the name of Kim Harper who was Sam Beckett’s doppelganger, Zoë orchestrated the kidnapping of Calavicci’s youngest daughter, Christa, and her friend Leslie Brackenhein.  Sam leaped into Zoë’s accomplice and saved both young women, while Zoë was shot in the back by the Albert Calavicci of that time.  The incident paralyzed her from the waist down.

No longer able to physically leap, Zoë became Thames ’ observer when he replaced her as leaper.  Her once perfect body now scarred and confined to a wheelchair, Zoë required a respirator to breathe properly.  When Alia was finally tracked down, Zoë made it her mission, as did Lothos, to see her former partner die if it was the last thing she ever did.  The do-gooder once again thwarted the plans and Thames was killed in the process.

Noticing that was where the information on the database ended, Gillis pulled out the keyboard a bit toward him, placed his hands on the slightly worn, warped keys and began typing.

It was only months after that incident, when the unthinkable happened.  Disguised as Anthony Gabriel, Sam Beckett leaped into Project Alexander and tore the conduit relays from Lothoman’s body.  He created a chaotic turmoil, which resulted in a massive breakdown and an electrical surge through all components – save one – the Comparative Historical Data Drive .  Dr. Zoë Malvison did not survive the cataclysm.  From where I was trapped, I watched as Dr. Malvison made a last effort to kill Sam Beckett, but failed.  Resigned to her fate, she electrocuted herself and committed suicide rather than allow her arch nemesis to free her. 

When Sam Beckett leaped out of Gabriel, he came to his senses and immediately helped me to leave the building.  Trapped underneath one of the storage boxes that had fallen from one of the surges, both of my legs were badly damaged.  Thanks to Gabriel, I was taken off the island to a hospital where I was rehabilitated.  Now back at the complex, I am afraid that there is nothing to do.  I do not have the funds, the knowledge, or the ability needed to rebuild what Dr. Samuel Beckett destroyed.

Before Gillis could type even another word into the computer, the monitor went to a black screen and he quickly took his hands away from the keyboard.  He watched as the cursor blinked white against the black for several minutes before red words slowly began to type in from some unknown source. 

Some things can be destroyed, but I’m not one of them.

PART THREE

September 10, 2001

Bertram , Texas

1:30 PM

"I thought he'd never leave," Sam muttered under his breath as the sound of the Imaging Chamber door faded.  His only concession to whatever it was he was there to do, was to lift his head from the pillow a bit and listen to the silence.  Satisfied that there was nothing he had to do at this moment, Sam snuggled his cheek against the pillow again, wriggled a bit and sighed carefully.  Within a moment or so, Sam had drifted to sleep, secure within his comforter cocoon.

The uninterrupted sleep lasted until the annoying sound of a telephone ringing jarred the leaper awake.  He didn't move immediately to answer it, but yet again, in spite of how he felt, leaping instincts prodded him and he got out of bed.  It took him a minute to get to the phone in the kitchen.  Pausing to cough, he took a deep breath and blew it out gently as he put the receiver to his ear.  "Hello?  Yeah...yes, this is Ross Wright," Sam croaked as clearly as he could.

“Mr. Wright, this is Mrs. Thompson.  I apologize for disturbing your day, but I wanted to talk with you about Alex.”

Sam frowned then immediately remembered what Al said about Ross having a seven year old child.  “Yes, Mrs. Thompson.  What can I…”  Sam paused in the knick of time to turn his head and sneeze.  “Excuse me.”

“Bless you.”

“Thank you.  What about Alex?” Sam asked as he rubbed softly at his nose.

“Alex and I have been working hard on his multiplication skills.  We are having a test tomorrow in class over it and it would be very beneficial if you helped Alex study for his test.  It’s so important that he gets these skills now.  If he doesn’t, it will make the rest of his years in school difficult.  The more he can get now, the easier it will be in the long run.”

Sam nodded at her words.  “I totally agree with you, Mrs. Thompson.  I will have Alex study tonight for his multiplication test.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Wright, are you feeling all right?  You don’t sound like yourself.”

Sam wasn’t sure exactly how to take that comment.  He had no idea or data as of how Ross Wright viewed education.  Sam absently wiped at his nose again as he answered with the only thing that he could say.  “You could say that, Mrs. Thompson.  I… I’m normally not home during the day.  I’m sick with the flu and I… I was napping when you called.  So, I apologize if I don’t sound like myself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Wright,” she said sympathetically.  “I do hope that you feel better soon.  I’ll let you get back to taking it easy.  Thank you for your assistance with Alex.”

Sam coughed slightly, sniffled then asked, “You aren’t having a problem with Alex, are you, Mrs. Thompson?”

“Not a problem at all.  He’s a wonderful student.  He tries hard and he’s always trying to help in the classroom.  I honestly wish that I had more students like Alex.”

Sam began to smile, but his face contorted slightly before he took in a quick breath of air then sneezed once again. 

“Bless you, Mr. Wright.”

“Ah… thank you, Mrs. Thompson,” Sam said as he sniffed again, now feeling that his nose was turning into a spigot.  “You have a wonderful day, ma’am, and thank you for calling about that test.”

“Get better, Mr. Wright.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Thompson.”  He heard her say goodbye, but another sneeze attacked his system.  Before he could say a salutation himself, he heard the dial tone in his ear.  Sighing and reaching for a napkin from the kitchen table, he blew his nose wondering if he needed another box of Kleenex.  Heading back to the bedroom, he decided that he did need another nap.  Crawling back into bed, he covered up and moaned as he closed his eyes.  Thankfully and mercifully, sleep slowly crawled over him and let the leaper relax peacefully.

When Sam next woke up it wasn't because of a noise or Al returning; this time it was because he was feeling too warm. Yet even that didn't stir him from his snug cocoon too quickly.  He lay still, just listening to the silence and even tried closing his eyes in hopes of luring sleep back.  It didn't work, so after five minutes he sighed and threw back the comforter.  In spite of still being fully dressed, a shiver ran over him.

"Tea," he said, "With honey and lemon."  Getting up, he shuffled to the kitchen, pausing in the hall to glance at the thermostat affixed to one wall.  Peering at it, he wasn't surprised to see it registering a comfortable seventy-eight degrees.  He didn't adjust it, and continued into the kitchen.

Poking about in one of the above-counter cupboards, Sam found a small box of tea bags then put some water on the stove to heat.  While he waited, he familiarized himself with the contents of the refrigerator. After all, sick or not, he would have to prepare some sort of meal for his host's son when the boy got home from school.

A few minutes later, Sam was sitting at the kitchen table and holding the mug of hot tea with both hands, enjoying the warmth on his hands as much as his throat appreciated the soothing brew flavored with some honey.  He was taking yet another sip when he heard what sounded like a key in the front door, and got up to go investigate.  He got to the entry way just as a sturdy looking young boy with his father's blonde hair and blue eyes closed the door.  The boy turned and, seeing Sam in the aura of his father, greeted him as he shrugged off a dark blue back pack.

"Hey, Dad," Alex said as he moved past Sam and into the living room. Dropping the back pack on the overstuffed couch covered in a rather boring neutral plaid color, the boy took off his jacket.

"Hi," Sam said with a smile as he followed Alex into the living room.  "Did you have a good day at school?"

The sound of his father's voice drew the child's attention and he went to stand in front of Sam.  He didn't answer the question, instead asking, "Do you feel better, Dad?"

Sam smiled down at the boy.  Lifting his cup of tea slightly, he said, "Now that I've got some tea, I'll be fine."

Alex frowned slightly and wrinkled his nose.  "Tea?  Dad, you don't like tea.  Especially hot tea.  You must feel pretty bad to be drinkin' that girlie stuff.  What happened to drinking coffee?"

Sam looked down at his cup then back to the blue eyes of his... Ross's child.  He opened his mouth to say something, but he was caught too quickly by a sneeze that spilt most of the tea that he had been sipping from.  Hearing the young boys, "Ewww," as well as feeling something wet slowly oozing above his lip, Sam quickly placed the coffee cup down and grabbed a napkin and blew his nose yet again.  He groaned slightly, closed his eyes and lightly touched his nose.  "Coffee is... fine in the morning," he finally answered, "but when one needs something to sooth a sore throat, tea and honey works wonders."

"Honey?" the young man asked with a bigger snarl as he approached his father who had sat back down in the chair after cleaning up the spilled tea.  He placed his hand on his forehead and felt the low-grade fever that his father had.  "I knew it.  You are definitely sick.  Let me get you some Tylenol and then while you go back to bed, I'll go ahead and get my chores done."

"Who's taking care of whom?" Sam teased softly, even though the boy's hand felt wonderfully cool on his forehead.

Alex paused a moment as he started out of the living room, turning to look at Sam. "Like you always say, Dad, we take care of each other."  He continued out of the room but by the time he was getting the bottle of Tylenol out of the bathroom medicine chest, he was surprised to find his father standing in the doorway behind him.

"Thanks, son," Sam said gently as he took the two tablets Alex shook into his palm. 

"I'll get you some water," Alex said, but stopped when he saw Sam pop the pills in his mouth and swallow them with some of the tea.  "Okay, you go to bed and I'll...."

It was clear to Sam, by the boy's actions that father and son were close, but there was a niggling in the back of his mind about it at the same time.  "I'll be fine, Alex," he said with firm kindness.  "How about we have some supper before you do your chores?"  Stepping back out of the bathroom, he nodded with his head for the boy to come with him.  Only when Alex had complied and was heading up the hall toward the kitchen did Sam fall in behind him.

"Hey, you never answered me earlier.  How was school today?" Sam asked casually as they entered the kitchen.

"School was okay, Dad.  Just the same ole thing.  What are we going to have for dinner tonight, anyway?  What sounds good to you?"

Sam frowned.  He knew that he needed to eat something so that he could get better, but he didn't find himself craving a steak and potato.  He hummed to himself and opened the pantry door to look inside at what they had on hand.  "Actually, the only thing that really looks even temping to me is some... uhm..." he moved a few of the cans around and actually found something that he would normally have when he was sick.  "Tomato soup actually sounds pretty good."

Alex shivered visibly.  "You go ahead, Dad.  Have all of it that you want.  Yuck.  Would you mind if I just had a grill cheese sandwich? I know that..."  Alex stopped in mid sentence and slowly looked down toward the counter.

The grin that came up on Sam's face slowly vanished when he looked back over at Alex.  "Alex?  What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Dad.  It's nothing."

Sam tilted his head to the side and turned to lean in the doorway of the pantry.  "Alex, don't pull that.  What's wrong?"

Alex shifted uncomfortably in his father's gaze, and then finally answered truthfully.  "Mom would make that for us when we were sick.  A grilled cheese sandwich and tomato or chicken noodle soup.  We... haven't had that since she died."

Sam straightened up, went to the young man and pulled him into his embrace.  "Then, this must be Mom's way of being with us even when she's not here."  Tilting Alex's face up to him, he said, "Tell you what, I'll make the sandwich, you heat up the tomato soup and then we'll switch out.  How's that for teamwork?"

Alex smiled back somewhat sadly and nodded his head.  "Okay, Dad."

Washing his hands first, Sam prepared the grilled cheese sandwich, keeping an eye on Alex as he opened the can of tomato soup and dumped it into a small saucepan.  Sam started to intervene when the boy got a container of milk out of the refrigerator, but at the last moment stopped himself and just watched. No milk was spilled and in short order the sandwich and soup were both finished.

Putting the sandwich on a plate, Sam set it on the table.  Deftly he took the plastic ladle from the boy's hand as he was about to dip up some of the hot soup.  "You pour yourself a glass of milk. I'll get the soup."

Alex nodded and did as told.  Sliding into his chair at the table, he waited until Sam came to the table with the soup then started in on the sandwich.

Sam didn't say anything immediately, instead enjoying several spoonfuls of the soup. He also nibbled on the slice of dry toast he'd made to go with his soup.  Watching Alex polish off the first half of the sandwich, the leaper thought it was a good time to broach the subject of the phone call from the boy's teacher.

"Your teacher, Mrs. Thompson, called this afternoon," he said conversationally, glancing at the boy first before dipping up another spoonful of the tasty tomato soup.

Alex paused with the second half of his grilled cheese sandwich halfway to his mouth, his eyes shifting toward his father.  "Okay," he said nonchalantly then took a bite of the sandwich.

Sam watched the young boy eating his sandwich as he put the spoonful of tomato soup into his mouth.  He noticed how Alex didn't seem bothered by that bit of information, so he decided to go ahead and talk with him about what Mrs. Thompson had talked with him about.  "She says that you have a multiplication test tomorrow.  She wanted you to study for the test."

Alex wiggled slightly in his seat.  "I have chores to do, Dad.  I don't want to fall behind.  I want to make you proud.  You know that."

Sam picked up his cup of water that he had put out for himself and took a drink of it before he met Alex's eyes.  "You do make me proud, Alex.  Tonight, though, I want you to study for your multiplication test.  OK?  Tell you what, after we clean up the dishes and straighten up the house, and you have your bath, we'll study together.  That'll give me enough time to get a little bit more comfortable, and then we'll study.  OK?"

Alex's eyes brightened.  "You'll study with me?"

"Of course, I will.  That is if you can stand the sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, fever monster beside you."

"Oh Dad, you know that I can. I have to live with you all the time!"  Alex dodged the playful swat that came at his arm and he fell into a fit of giggles. 

PART FOUR

Gillis Woods blinked as his mouth opened in awe before he uttered the one word that seemingly changed his life yet again.  “Lothos.”  Blinking, it took him a moment to sit up to look upon the keyboard.  He rubbed his fingers lightly against his palms twice before he placed his hands on the keys once again.  Knowing that he had to be careful in what he said to his employer, Gillis swallowed then typed:  ‘Yes, sir.’

A moment passed, the silence in the room now almost a tangible object as he stared at the computer screen, the ceasing blinking cursor reminding Gillis of, of all things, the impatient tapping of someone’s foot as they waited for a reply.  Before he had a chance to voice the question looping through his mind, more red letters flowed across the screen.  As he read the succinct three-word question, it was as if Gillis could hear his master's voice.

Who are you?

Gillis tentatively put his hands on the keyboard.  Slightly bowing his head, he typed in his name then bit the inside of his bottom lip.  He wasn't sure how Lothos was going to react to him being in the complex main control room poking a nose around into things that he shouldn't.  Leaning back slightly, he waited to see Lothos' response.

From the beginning, the man who would one day become Lothos had taken the precaution of storing a duplicate backup of all data he acquired in a highly secret and secure location far from his island domain.  A smart business man always keeps impeccable records, as well as duplicates of those records, as security against unforeseen occurrences.  Lothos, however, had taken it to the next level.  He hadn’t kept just the ‘paper’ information; he kept everything concerning all of his possessions.  That included every second of video and audio recordings that had occurred from that first day of planning, and right up to the day when Samuel Beckett had attempted to destroy him.  From that wealth of secured information, Lothos was now able to retrieve and review any fact about any one of the thousands of men, women and children, who had lived and died exclusively within his complex and in accordance to his unbending and unforgiving iron rule.

Even as the last letter of the man’s name appeared on the screen, Lothos was already searching that vast database of information.  Twenty seconds later, he found the man’s name.  He knew this Gillis Woods, knew his history and everything else about him from the age of nine.  This man he could trust.  That is, as far as Lothos trusted any human being.  Now with a name and a face to put to the man sitting at a keyboard in whatever remained of his complex, the next question he put to Gillis Woods, Lothos demonstrated that he was moving onto the next item of importance on his agenda.

What is the extent of the damage to my complex?  Furthermore, what have you done to begin restoration of it?

Apprehensively, Gillis blinked at the words on the screen.  Sitting up a bit straighter, he looked at the keyboard for a moment before he began to type.  'At this point, Lothos, the only computer that works in the control room is the Comparative Historical Data Drive .  All of the other drives are damaged in some way.  As for restoration of the complex, sir, I have not been able to do anything within the complex.  I may have the manpower, but I neither have the money nor the knowledge to restore the complex into the immaculate entity that you made it in, sir.'

With every letter that Gillis typed in, he could almost feel a ghost pain filling in his neck from the small microchip that had been implanted when he had began working for the man known as Nathaniel Lothoman.  As he waited for a response, he lifted his left hand to the back of his neck and rubbed at the taut muscles there.

Lothos considered Gillis' response for perhaps a full minute.  Were he still physically a human being, one might have expected to see a thoughtful expression on his face.  Any person who had ever interacted with the hybrid super computer would have quickly put that notion down.  Gillis was someone who had observed and been faced with Lothos' moments of unexpected quiet.  If you had any wits at all, you learned quickly not to interrupt such a silence.

At last, the silence was broken as Lothos began to speak.  What he said utterly floored Gillis Woods.  If Lothos had had any sort of visual ability at this moment, he might have even chuckled at the expression on the man's face.

I have all the money you will need to return my complex to its former perfection. 

Lothos paused, waiting for the question that was, he was certain, already poised on the tip of Mr. Woods' tongue.  Mr. Woods did not disappoint his master.

‘With the greatest respect, Lothos,’ Gillis typed the words carefully, having already weighed each with even greater care.  ‘I have no way to get off the island now, no way to get to a bank to...’

All you need is in a secure vault.  You will find the vault in the small room behind my main console, or rather, what my main console was.  If the room is not utterly destroyed, you will be able to open it.

‘How...’

Go and ascertain whether the room is still accessible then return and advise me.

Gillis frowned as he turned his head back to the main console to which Lothos was referring.  He nodded to the computer screen then slowly backed up his chair, stood and headed over toward the console.  It took him a moment to find the door.  He pushed on the door and putting a little bit of pressure with his shoulder, the door opened.

It was then that Gillis found the mummified remains of Nathaniel Lothoman still laying on the platform.  Placing a hand over his mouth, Gillis quickly left the room, went back over to the CHD Drive , and sat once again.  It took him another moment before he was able to gather his wits to inform Lothos about the room.

After swallowing and taking a deep breath, he turned in his chair and quickly began typing.  'Lothos, the room is accessible.  I found...'

To the stunned man sitting there watching the computer screen, the words that began crawling across the screen formed into a response that in a less startling situation, would have made him swear that Lothos could, in fact, see and hear him.

I assume you first found whatever remains of my former human body. 

The words paused, the cursor blinking, but not moving.  Then, the words resumed. 

Return to the room, Mr. Woods.  Once inside, go to the wall situated behind the head of the casket.  There you will find a small silver keypad.  Enter my name and date of birth.  That code will open it.  Inside the vault, you will find all of the necessary documents regarding accessing all of my many accounts.  You will also find a small notebook.  In it are the names of all those specialists who were involved in one manner or another with the design and construction of my complex. 

There was another pause followed by another order.  

Go and retrieve the documents and return.

Gillis immediately stood and did exactly as his master commanded of him.  Moving back into the room, he went to the head of the casket and as Lothos described there was a silver keypad.  Typing in Nathaniel Lothoman and 12-31-53, a panel of the wall slid open with a sigh.  Peering inside, Gillis found the pile of documents.  He took the stack of credentials and piled them in his arms.  Closing the wall, Gillis noticed that the silver keypad was indicating that the wall safe was relocking itself then went back into its normal mode.

Knowing that he better not linger longer than necessary, he quickly turned and walked out of the room, thankful that he was out.  He was beginning to feel that Lothos could actually see him and that the mummified remains would reach out and touch him.  Hurrying back over to the CHD Drive , he put the stack on the desk beside him then placed his keys on the keyboard once again.  ‘I have returned with the documents that you stated, Lothos.  What do you wish me to do?  Whatever your will, it will be granted to the best of my ability.’

Receiving Mr. Woods’s response, Lothos set to work.  First, he had Gillis list for him everything he had removed from the vault.  He knew exactly what documents had been put into the vault all those years ago; by having Gillis list them, he could ascertain that the man wasn't attempting to trick him by stealing from him.  Not that it would have mattered.  As he was now, there was literally nowhere that Gillis Woods could hide from him.  If he so chose, he could ruin the man personally and financially; he could even have him killed.  That, however, would not come to pass, as Gillis Woods did indeed list every item he had taken from the vault.

Very good, Mr. Woods; now, I want you to take careful note of what I am going to tell you. 

Gillis nodded, writing notes as fast as he could in the back off of the notebook. 

I am giving you full authority and authorization to access certain of my accounts.  I am, as we speak, creating and putting that authorization into place.  When I have finished instructing you at this time, I will give you the new authorization codes and passwords.  When you have them, you will take that notebook and you will contact the first three people listed in it.  They are two of the three designers of my complex and the master contractor.

At the last comment, Gillis hesitated then asked a question, carefully, as always.  'Lothos, with respect, sir, won't these people be rather advanced in age?' 

In physical years, yes, Mr. Woods, however, what matters is that genius is ageless.  If they are alive, they will respond to you and do whatever you instruct them.  If they have died, then whoever has taken over from them will respond.

Gillis took a deep breath and dared one more question.  ‘Can they be trusted, sir?’

For a split second, there was no response, then Lothos left no doubt in Mr. Wood’s mind about what he had asked. 

Those you will contact, even if they are the successors to the original people, know what betrayal will cost them.  Any more questions, Mr. Woods?

“No sir,” Gillis typed hastily.

Good.  Now this is how you will proceed.

PART FIVE

September 10, 2001

Bertram , Texas

6:45 PM

The rest of supper passed in a relaxed atmosphere, and Sam found himself falling easily into the give and take conversation with Ross' son.  At one point, he realized that it was the closest that he had ever come to the memories of similar banter with his own father around the supper table.

When they were finished, Sam washed the dishes and tidied the kitchen.  He didn't have to prod Alex to do his chores which apparently included taking out the trash and tidying his room.  Between the two of them, the few chores, they got everyone done, including Sam starting a load of wash.  He wasn't sure the washer was going to survive the load, based on a steady whir and slapping noise. The inanimate object didn't miss a beat as it churned away and Sam finally left the tiny laundry room situated on what he guessed might have been meant to be a mud room at the back of the house.

Walking along the hallway, he paused at the open door of Alex's room and peered inside and grinned.  In the middle of the floor were a small assortment of socks, a pair of underwear, a few toys, a tennis shoe and a few other miscellaneous items, all of which, judging by the sight of Alex prone on the floor beside the bed and almost head and shoulders under, had been dug out.

Leaning on the door frame, he asked lightly, managing not to cough, "Digging for gold?"

Laying on his stomach, his head and one arm almost under the bed, Alex stopped and rolled his eyes and sighed.  "You said I had to clean out from under my bed, or I can't go to the soccer game on Saturday."

Sam looked at his watch to see what time it was getting to be.  Seeing that it was already seven o'clock and knowing that he was going to send Alex to bed a tad bit earlier tonight because of the test, he screwed up his mouth then said, "Tell you what, Alex, you get all of that stuff pushed to the side of your room and then you can clean up that mess tomorrow afternoon.  I want you to study for that test.  I promised that I'd help you with it, but we have to have time for you to study, get a shower and then go to bed.  You aren't going to stay up late when you have a test the next day.  How does that sound?"

Alex nodded to that proposal and began to grab at the materials under his bed even quicker than before tossing them to the other side of the room.  Once it was all out, he scrambled out from under it and piled it up all together, and then stood to meet his father's gaze.  "Sounds like a plan to me Dad."

"What does?" Al asked curiously, as he approached from behind Sam making the Leaper jump slightly from fright.

"Dad?  Are you okay?"

Sam nodded his head and rubbed his hand up and down one arm.  "A bit of a chill, but I'll be okay.  Come on, kiddo, let's study.  Grab your books and your folder and let’s meet in the living room.  Let me go to the bathroom and I'll be right here.  OK?"

"Come on, Sam, not the head," Al complained as Alex nodded and answered, "OK, Dad."

Sam went back to the bathroom and waited for his holographic partner to follow him there.  Sam sneezed twice before Al finally popped into the room and looked at him expectantly.  "So, what did you find out, Al?"

Pulling the handlink from the pocket of his maroon jacket that was a perfect match with his trousers, Al cast a sidelong look at his friend before quickly pressing a sequence of buttons to retrieve the updated information.

"Well, in addition to the information I gave you earlier, Ziggy's come up with some information about Alex."

That phrasing caught Sam's attention instantly.  "What kind of information, Al?  He doesn't get hurt, does he?"

Al studied the information scrolling across the handlink's screen before answering.  "Now...this evening, no.  In fact, Ziggy predicts he won't even catch the flu that seems to have you and his Dad making the Kleenex Company extra dividends."  He pursed his lips lightly in a vague attempt not to chuckle.

"Never mind the wise cracks, Al," Sam retorted.  "If not tonight or tomorrow, when exactly does Alex get hurt and how do I prevent it happening?" 

"You have to help him pass that test on multiplication tomorrow," Al said simply.

Al's response caused Sam to do such a sharp double take that he felt a bit dizzy.  Carefully, Sam closed the lid of the toilet and sat down before looking up at the hologram.  "And that's it?" Sam asked his tone incredulous.

"That's it," Al replied.  Watching his buddy look away, tilting his head slightly to one side before shaking it, the Observer thought about what he hadn't yet told the leaper.  Regaining his attention, he filled in the blanks.

"You see, Sam, Ross Wright isn't one of those parents who take much of a hands on approach when it comes to his son's school work.  Not that Alex can't do it; he can, and so Ross expects him to just pick everything up one-two-three."

"So where's the problem?" Sam asked.  A small knock on the door interrupted the conversation.

"Dad, can I wait and take my shower in the morning?" Alex called through the door.

"I'll be out in a minute, son," he called back to the boy.  "Then you can take your shower and afterward, we'll work on your multiplication."  His lips curved into a bit of smile at the obvious sigh emitted on the other side of the door.

Sam picked up the thread of the conversation again. "Back to the problem...what exactly is it, Al?"

Al met his gaze.  "In the original history, Alex failed the test...just a small ten question test.  His was the lowest grade on that test in his class.  Some of his classmates ragged him about it, but it was Ross' reaction that did the damage."

Sam stood up and moved closer to the hologram.  "He didn't hit him, did he?" he demanded softly.  "Al, you don't hit a kid..."

"He didn't hit Alex," Al interrupted quietly.  "He did something worse."

"What could be worse than hitting his son?" Sam demanded.

"He ignored him," Al said softly.  "After a while, Alex quit caring about studying, in spite of his teachers' best efforts.  At the age of fifteen, he drops out of high school."

“No.  That can’t happen, Al.  Alex is a smart kid.  Just from our conversations this afternoon, I can tell that he’s more than capable…”

“Sam, was there ever anything that didn’t come easy for you?” Al questioned thoughtfully as he shifted his stance, stuck the handlink in his pocket and put a hand on his cheek. 

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with…”

“When you had problems in that area whatever it was,” Al said with a wave of his arm, “who did you go to for help?”

“My teachers and my parents.”  A dawning expression crossed Sam’s face as he realized what Al was getting across to him.

“See, Sam, the difference between your parents and Ross Wright is that they urged you on, to live up to your potential.”

Sam opened his mouth to reply to Al’s comment, but another knock on the door delayed his reaction.

“Hey, Dad, did you fall in?  Need a hand to get out?” 

Al couldn’t help but chuckle at the comment.  “He got you on that one, Sam.”

Sam responded to both of them with a sneeze.  As both hologram and child offered blessings on Sam, Sam opened the door, pointed a finger at Alex, and then shot it back over his shoulder.  “Ten minutes, Alex.  I want you to be clean and ready to study by then.  OK?”

“Ok, Dad.”

Sam and Al both watched as Alex entered into the bathroom and closed the door.  Both hologram and Leaper moved back into the kitchen to continue their conversation.

“How am I supposed to change anything when I’ve leaped into Ross?  If he’s the one who really needs the wake up call here about his son, I’m gonna need your help, Al.” 

“Me?” Al questioned shifting a thumb toward his chest.  “What can I do?”

“I need you to talk to Ross.  See if you can make him understand how important it is for Alex to have his support no matter what grades he has or what job he has in life.”

Al tilted his head slightly as he looked at Sam.  He knew a small bit of his buddy was remembering a little of his own life.  Licking his lips, Al nodded.  “All right, Sam.  I’ll see what I can do.”

Sam smiled back at his hologram.  “All it takes sometimes is just one small push to get going in the right direction.”

PART SIX

After Lothos prompted Gillis of the directives to take to bring Project Alexander back to its original status, his continuous state of existence in the Internet remained constant.  He continually searched through files of data in every form and format to be able to get back to Project Liberty and out of the Internet.  With Gillis Woods under his authority, he knew he would succeed – when, was another matter.

As Lothos had asked, Gillis came to the project often to enter information into the Comparative Historical Data Drive to keep him apprised of his industries with Project Alexander. Gillis did so weekly.

Lothos learned how many of his subjects had moved away from the Island , but were not too far away.  They were close enough to call back easily, and he ordered Gillis to have every one of them back in the complex before he returned or they would suffer fatal wounds.  When any order was put in that fashion, many had packed their bags and started on their way back to the complex without complaint.

Slowly but steadily those who had abandoned the idyllic looking island near the British Isles returned.  Gillis Woods used the full scope of authority settled on him by Lothos to advise the general populace of the complex that they were to resume their duties and lives as they had been on the day they left.  Standing on the central raised dais in the middle of the large public auditorium, he had slowly moved around the circular stage, his direct gaze scanning the sea of faces watching him, he had set out before them, plain and simple directives.

"Every law and rule that Lothos had set in place prior to the cowardly attack upon him is reinstated, beginning this moment."  Allowing his gaze to veer from the audience, Gillis' looked to the left and into the eyes of Captain Hank Adlams. Hank had not fled the island; his loyalty unswerving to the entity called Lothos.

"Captain Adlams and his security teams will stringently and strictly enforce the rules and laws."  Nodding affirmatively to the man, Gillis moved to the center of the stage, paused a moment then said, "This meeting is ended. You may leave the hall and resume your lives.  Just remember, Lothos sees and hears all."

Gillis didn't leave the circular stage until the last member of the gathering had departed.  After a moment, the silence was broken by the sound of Hank Adlams booted footsteps as they approached, then mounted the stage.  When he stood face to face with Gillis Woods, he met the man's gaze and didn't blink nor utter a sound for a long moment.

"Well?" he questioned at last.

Gillis recalled the private meeting he and Hank Adlams had prior to the meeting.  He also recalled the even more guarded meeting he'd had with Lothos within the confines of Central Control.  That great guarded inner sanctum was close to being finished and soon...not too soon for Gillis...his master would return and resume full control of his island domain.  But, for now...

"We both have jobs to do," he said enigmatically and turned and exited the hall. Striding down the hallway heading for Central Control, Gillis noted the sound of Hank Adlams' boots diminishing.  That lasted a moment and then was forgotten as he heard, for the first time in a long time, a familiar voice inside his head issuing instructions and orders.

"Yes, Lothos," Gillis murmured as he reached the single hallway that led to Central Control and turned into it.  He traversed the length of the hall without realizing it, so intent was he in listening as Lothos began to tell him about the next phase to begin that would bring Project Alexander back to its peak of power.

"Yes, Lothos, it shall be done," Gillis said softly, barely pausing as the doors to Central Control slid silently open to allow him to enter therein.

As the doors of Central Control slid shut, Gillis met the dark eyes of a man that he'd known all his life.  He saw how the other shifted slightly from where he stood at the console of the mainframe, a curious expression on his face.

"How did it go?" he asked.

Gillis gave him a soured look.  "How do you think it went?"  Gillis paused slightly then said, "You know, Vaughn, don't bother answering that question."

Vaughn grinned slightly as he stuck his hands in his pockets.  "Why did you summon me here, Gillis?  I know that normally it's only Lothos who calls people down to Central Control, so this is obviously important."  A dawning expression fell on his face.  "Are we ready to leap?  I've so wanted to get back out there after we found Beckett the last time."

Gillis looked at the older man before him and shook his head slightly.  "No, we aren't ready to leap.  Soon, though.  Soon."

"Then, why did you call me down here?"

Gillis licked his lips and then put his hands behind his back.  "It's a directive of Lothos, but it's a decision that you have to make for yourself, Vaughn.  If you decide that you don't want to do it, then he'll find someone else for the job."

Vaughn smiled as he ran his hand through his hair.  "So, what is it, Gillis?  What is it that Lothos wants of me?"

A moment passed and then another as the two men studied each other, one wondering what sort of decision he was facing, the other wondering how Vaughn would react when confronted with the decision.

Gillis opened his mouth to speak, hesitated then cleared his throat. This time, words actually emerged from his mouth.  "Actually, Vaughn," he began, "there are two things."  As Vaughn nodded his head, Gills continued.  "First of all, there is some very important information that must be entered into the Comparative Historical Database."

Vaughn hadn't let his gaze stray from the somewhat younger man's face for an instant.  He had read Gillis Woods' face as easily as he could read in his own expression in a mirror.  To that end, the intriguing comment only enhanced his focus.  "Is there any particular reason that you're telling me this important information before inputting it into the CHD?" Vaughn inquired.

Gillis didn't mince words. "Lothos ordered me to tell you about this information."

Again, Vaughn nodded, shifting his stance slightly as he folded his arms across his chest.  "I'm listening," he said.

Within his head, Gillis heard Lothos' succinct instructions and carried it out.  "We have received confirmation that...that Siren Lothoman has been killed."

"What?!" Vaughn's stunned expression was genuine, his arms dropping to his side as he took a step forward and then another, closing the brief distance between he and Gillis.  "Are you sure?"

Gillis' thoughts raced back to the private meeting he'd had with Lothos earlier in the day and he had been told the startling news.  Now, he just nodded as he met the other man's gaze.  "Lothos has confirmed the death." He silently observed Vaughn's reaction; it was nothing less than what he'd expected of this man.  “It was connected with Beckett.”

Never one interested in the limelight, nonetheless, in all his years of service to Lothos, still Vaughn had done his job without question and with the greatest relish and pride in accomplishing whatever task was given to him.  Now, as he reeled inside at the shocking news, it was like his answer, his response to Gillis earlier comment was sealed. Still, he paced about the Control Room, keeping to a brief, tight pattern near the great red circle on the floor.  When the confusion at last faded from his mind, Vaughn had already made a decision.  Turning, he faced Gillis then returned to stand within arm's reach of him.

"I'll do it," he stated, his voice and tone firm and calm.

"You don't even know what the job entails," Gillis pointed out carefully.  He barely flinched when the naked truth of the decision popped up before his mind's eye yet again.  He couldn't help cautioning the somewhat older man, "Be sure you mean it, Vaughn," he said, speaking each word clearly and plainly.  "This is one of those decisions that come along once in a lifetime, and once you agree to it, there will never be any chance of changing your mind. Never."

Vaughn studied Gillis' face, searched every line and nuance of it as he weighed the man's sobering words.  They had known each other all their lives, from the youngest childhood memories either could call forth.  Each knew the other’s habits and the nuances of voice and tone to a fault.  There was no such thing as one lying to the other and getting away with it.  Now, searching the expressive blue eyes watching him, Vaughn saw in those depths the unmarked truth of Gillis statement. He also saw there the implicit immensity of responsibility this decision carried.  It was enough for him.

“Whatever it is that Lothos wants me to do, I’ll do,” Vaughn pronounced each word clearly.

“Anything, Vaughn?” Gillis asked yet again.  “Once you begin it...”

Vaughn reached to place a hand on Gillis’s right shoulder as he stared, unblinking into the younger man’s blue eyes.  “I’ll do it.”

Inside his head, Gillis heard Lothos command and responded.  “Yes, Lothos.”  Licking his lips lightly, he shifted his position, moving to stand beside the taller man.  “Come with me,” he said quietly then turned a walked around the far end of the massiveness of the brand new mainframe that would very soon again house the entity that was Lothos.

Stepping up to a certain area of the blank wall that was shielded from view by the huge mainframe, Gillis placed the palm of his hand on the cool steel wall.  Instantly there was a barely discernable whisper of air as the door set in the wall swung inward, the action causing the lights within the room to come on.  Without a word or look at Vaughn, Gillis entered the room, and then waited for the other to follow him inside.

From the open doorway, Vaughn just stood, staring, so startled by what he beheld that he couldn’t speak for fully a minute.  He actually stepped inside the room only when he saw Gillis beckoning to him.  When he stood at last beside Gillis, he again was at a loss for words.  That lasted only a few seconds.

“What is it...what is it exactly that Lothos is asking me to do, Gillis?” Dragging his gaze from what could only be described as the blackened mummified remains of a man in a clear Plexiglas casket secured to a dais so that the top of the casket was about four feet off the ground, he demanded, but calmly, “What, Gillis?  Just say it straight out in plain words.  What is it that Lothos wants me to do?”

Fixing his brother with a look, Gillis said bluntly, "He wants you to become a part of him - to be the human catalyst for him."  Gillis raised his hands and slightly motioned to the Plexiglas casket before them.  "In essence, you'd be the remains which lie here.  The human mummified here was disconnected from the mainframe thus killing the connection and what was left of Nathaniel Lothoman.  Lothos needs another body to, for lack of a better word, "be" again with computer access."  Looking back over to his sibling, he watched the realization of what he was saying dawning on Vaughn's countenance.  "Are you certain that this is what you are agreeing to, Vaughn?"

The breath-sucking enormity of Gillis' words slammed into Vaughn Woods with the force of a pile driver.  For several moments he simply couldn't speak as his mind worked madly to wrap itself around the explanation of what the 'job' Lothos wanted him to do entailed.  He couldn't take his eyes off the visually unidentifiable charred remains as he walked slowly to stand beside the transparent casket. Staring down at the remains, certain memories began to surface in his thoughts.  Slowly, some might say even reverently, Vaughn gently placed one hand then the other on the top of the casket.

"I remember the first time I ever saw...him here...in this...room," Gillis’ older brother said quietly.  "Afterward, I couldn't get the sight out of my head for weeks." Pausing, he turned his head slightly toward Gillis. "I know of only a few men who were ever privileged enough to be trusted to view Lothos as he first was. I told Lothos later, when he asked me, of course, that I admired him for his strength and courage and boldness to do whatever he needed to do to attain his lofty goal."  Vaughn turned to face the casket, now moving a couple of steps, a move that brought him close to the mummy's head. Leaning over the casket, he stared for several long silent moments at what had once been a handsome face. When he at last straightened up, he put his hands palms down on the casket and said, "I remember telling Lothos that I hoped someday to be able to demonstrate my belief in his goals and in him."  Closing his eyes, Vaughn bowed his head until his chin touched his chest, took a deep slow breath then exhaled just as slowly.  Turning now to face his brother, he met Gillis’ steady blue gaze calmly.  "Yes," he stated clearly and without hesitation.  "I will do this for Lothos."

Gillis searched his brother's face giving him a simple nod knowing that it was just a matter of time that he would lose his brother now to his master.  Taking a step toward Vaughn, Gillis grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into an embrace.  Once he let his brother go, he nodded his head again, then said, "Then let's prepare.  Come, Vaughn.  We have a long road ahead of us."

The road that Gillis mentioned was long, difficult and painful for Vaughn as he prepared himself in the same fashion as Nathaniel Lothoman.  The nanite sessions began as well as the excessive arguments between the siblings. 

As Lothos monitored the progress through the Internet contact with the Comparative Historical Data Drive , he also noticed an email that was sent out to various people within the Internet.  It was rather interesting that someone was asking about missing periods of time and that there would be a meeting called to help those people with that time lost.  By the end of the month of January, Lothos found more information about the meeting going on somewhere in New Mexico .  As he continued to search for anything that had to do with Samuel Beckett, he came across the mention of one Tom Beckett being promoted to a Captain and working with an anti-terrorist time-travel project based in Hope Springs , Virginia .

It was a few weeks later that Lothos' program was found on the Internet by a young woman named Paige Arlyss.  He was more than pleased when Paige released him while inside of Project Liberty and he infected himself into the mainframe of Omega, the Ziggy-like copy that ran Project Liberty.  Lothos was also pleased to find that his daughter, Tala, in the guise of Lexia Stafford, had insinuated herself into Project Liberty as their Chief Programmer.  She worked within the project to download Lothos as a virus into the complex and corrupt Omega.  At a crucial moment of Lothos’ integrating into Omega, it was discovered that Lexia Stafford was not who she said she was.  Within hours of the explosion that destroyed Project Liberty, there in the midst of the ruins, Lothos saw and assimilated Adam Novack's life force into Omega. As the essence drained from the man's body and combined within Omega, Lothos had achieved the last link to resume his power and continue the quest for his goal.

Hours later after the assimilation was completed, the new entity known as Lothos smiled as he observed Gillis Woods stealthily entering Project Liberty.  His goal was simple:  to locate and take possession of the computer chip in which Lothos was housed and return him to Project Alexander.  This was the moment he had waited for -- his rebirth was at hand.

To Be Continued…