Message-ID: <vNcKWfAmDeu1MwJK@sam-tech.demon.co.uk>
Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1998 14:43:02 +0100
From: Heather Markham <Heather@sam-tech.demon.co.uk>
Subject: alternus-tempus.p02

CHAPTER TWO

   Sam closed the door to Pendrell's apartment, loosening 
his tie, he made his way into the room and took in the 
surroundings. The apartment wasn't what you'd call expansive 
but it was warm, bright and had an air of comfort about it. 
The living area was tastefully decorated and furnished. Two 
big soft sofas sat one each side of a mock fireplace. The 
log fire within the grate was also there purely for effect.  
A large white animal-skin rug was spread out in front of the 
fire-place. It looked like wolf skin, he hoped it was a 
fake!  A huge wide-screen television stood over to one side, 
a deep leather chair sat invitingly in front of the state of 
the art piece of tv equipment. Tall bookcases had been 
arranged sectioning off one corner of the room in order to 
create a study area. There, a PC stood amid a mass of 
papers, note pads and books, on an elegant pine desk.  The 
comfort and design of the apartment would suit him just 
fine.

   Being a time-traveller of several years experience, Sam 
was quick in adjusting to new situations and was very used 
to making himself feel at home in his new abodes. He dropped 
the tie and the newspaper onto the chair and wandered around 
the room inspecting Pendrell's possessions, searching for an 
insight into the man's personality and life.  

   Walking over to the shelves of books, he tipped his head 
to one side, running the tips of his fingers from one book 
to another reading the titles embossed upon their spines. It 
seemed that the young forensic expert had a curiosity much 
like his own. The books gave a good insight into the man's 
mind. Apart from the books on forensic medicine and forensic 
criminology, science and medicine, there were such books as, 
Bio-chemistry, Genetics and Geno-Engineering, Virology, 
Physics, Quantum Physics, The theory of time travel, 
temporal mechanics and oddly enough, several fiction stories 
one of which was H.G.Wells "The time machine". The books 
indicated a wide interest in academic and medical subjects 
but it was the latter three titles which raised his eyebrows 
in a quizzical look. It seemed he and his host had many 
interests in common. 

   Catching the slight odour of fertilizer on the sleeve of 
his jacket, he decided that, at that moment, a shower and 
change of clothes took precedence over curiosity.  It took 
no time at all to find the room he was searching for, the 
bathroom was next to the bedroom. It contained a large and 
quite deep tub and shower fitment. Deciding on a bath for a 
change, he ran the hot water. He searched through the other 
man's stack of toiletries, sniffed at each bath additive, 
found one he liked and added it to the hot steamy water 
which frothed and foamed in response, sending pleasantly 
scented wisps of steam into the air. It looked and smelled 
so inviting. Emptying his pockets out onto a shelf above the 
hand basin, he quickly undressed, dropped the soiled 
clothing into a laundry bin and climbed into the tub.

   Sam lay there, luxuriating in the hot soapy water. It 
felt so good to relax. All his worries and tensions seemed 
to flow from his body out into the warm frothy water 
supporting his body. His eyelids flickered and closed, he 
felt he could stay like that forever, floating in a 
peaceful, worry-free womb of suds and soap.

   Thoughts drifted gently at the edge of a warm relaxed 
sleep. Oh, how wonderful it would be if this leap were just 
for something simple, like rescuing someone's cat or dog. 
Maybe that's why Al hadn't shown up yet, it was because he 
wasn't needed. He grimaced, no, that was just plain wishful 
thinking. For one thing Al would always turn up, even for 
the simplest of missions. 

   Opening his eyes and wiping the suds from his face, he 
puffed out his checks and blew a soap bubble from the back 
of his hand. He watched it idly drift on a current of warm, 
steamy air as he considered the second thing. He somehow 
sensed there was a lot more to this leap than met the eye, 
it didn't feel as though it was going to be easy or simple. 
He decided it would be best to assume the worst and not to 
allow himself to be lulled into a a false sense of security, 
that way he wouldn't be disappointed if things became 
difficult. 

   He began to steel himself, mentally, for the task to 
come. It was a thought which brought him back to reality 
with a thud. He had things to do and probably places to go 
and a very important phone call to make. Reluctantly, he 
climbed from the comfort of the warm bath, dried off, 
wrapped Pendrell's thick bathrobe around himself and padded 
into the bedroom.

   This room was softly lit but had a very masculine look to 
it, pine clothes closet, pine bed and chests of drawers and 
a large oak sea-chest at the foot of the bed. He noticed 
that a suit had been laid out on a chair next to one of the 
chests. He inspected the contents of the wardrobe looking 
for a fresh shirt to wear with it. It contained all the 
conservative style clothes relevant to a man working for the 
FBI. It also held a stock of casual clothes. It seemed to 
Sam that Pendrell's tastes were not unlike his own. He 
rifled through the drawers in one of the chests and found 
fresh underwear. Hopping from one foot to the other he 
quickly pulled them on under the robe and padded barefoot 
back into the living room.

   Picking up the paper and sinking into the comfort of the 
large chair, the tired quantum physicist, stretched out and 
scanned through the articles in the paper searching for more 
news of the plane disaster. His mind kept going back to it, 
he wasn't usually so morbidly fascinated by that kind of 
thing......unless...unless, somehow he was connected with 
it. His heart lurched sickeningly, what if he was in the 
persona of the guy who had sabotaged the plane! Even as he 
thought it, he shook the idea away. No.....no...that didn't 
sit right, he felt he was the good guy here, as usual. He 
needed to know for sure, though. Where was Al? His earlier 
fears were returning. He put down the paper, picked up the 
tv remote and channel hopped until he found a News Network 
giving coverage of the disaster. The News reader gravely 
presented the horrific details. Early indications suggested 
that a bomb had not been the cause of the crash. However, 
the Special Air Services Investigators and officers from the 
Bureau had inspected the wreckage and sabotage of some kind 
was still being attributed to the cause of the mid-air 
explosion.

  The case was being investigated by the FBI, was that the 
connection he was looking for? Even if that was the case, he 
wasn't a field operative, he wouldn't be sent out to 
investigate anything, he had a nice safe job back in the 
departments lab. If this leap was anything to do with the 
crash, how would he become involved. Had he been sent to 
discover something whilst working on a piece of evidence in 
the lab,  evidence, perhaps, brought to him by one of the 
agencies special operatives. Was he to work on an X-file 
classified case? Was he there to uncover a vital clue in 
solving the mystery of the downed plane? He turned the idea 
over in his mind and came to the conclusion that Pendrell 
would have all the qualifications necessary for solving any 
amount of forensic clues. Why would the man need to be 
replaced by him? What could he do that the other man 
couldn't?

   The news report ended and a commercial for Kentucky Fried 
Chicken came onto the screen. His stomach took notice of the 
advert even though his mind hadn't. A loud grumbling noise 
came from within his abdomen. Sam suddenly realized just how 
hungry he was. He got up and wandered into the small kitchen 
to rustle up something to eat. The fridge was well stocked, 
so were the cupboards. He guessed the man he'd replaced was 
used to cooking and preferred to eat at home but he didn't 
feel inclined to cook. Collecting together the required 
ingredients, a cup of strong black coffee and a 'mile high', 
tuna and mayonnaise sandwich were soon prepared. He decided 
that as soon as he'd eaten, whether Al showed up or not and 
whether he liked it or not, he *would* make that call to his 
mom.  

   Meanwhile, Al had materialized from behind the television 
set, he was wearing his white Naval Uniform. The holographic 
observer walked through it and turned to see what his friend 
had been watching. He paused, raised his eyebrows in 
surprised admiration, 'Baywatch' had just begun. Several 
'babes' dressed in scanty red swim suits were running along 
a sun-drenched Californian beach. Al stood transfixed by the 
sight, a huge leering grin spread across his face, he hadn't 
noticed his friend walk back into the room behind him. Sam 
fought the urge to immediately start firing questions at 
him, he grinned impishly, it wasn't often he got the chance 
to turn the tables and surprise Al for a change. Putting 
down the tray containing his meal, he quietly crept up 
behind his distracted  friend and yelled, "Gotchya" into his 
ear!

   Al jumped in sudden surprise, coughing and spluttering, 
he clutched at his heart, almost swallowing the small piece 
of cigar he had been chewing on. 
   "Sam! Don't do that......dammit, you scared the hell outa 
me....you nearly gave me a heart attack!". 
   Sam was curling up in laughter, "Hey, little buddy, makes 
a change for me to pull one on you." He was still grinning 
broadly as he peered over his friends shoulder to see what 
was so interesting, 
  "So, what fascinating little programme has caught your 
discerning eyes. Uh huh, thought so.....girls! Girls in swim 
suits!  Why did I just know it would be girls?!" 
   Al kept his gaze firmly rooted on the tv screen, 
  "Hey, Sammy boy, don'tcha just love this tv set, makes you 
feel you're really there. And the girls! Would ya take a 
look at all those girls in those itty bitty tight little red 
swim suits. Hey, Sam, look at those girls run. I love it 
when they run like that, don't you? Ohhh....wow.....double 
wow. This is my favourite show, Sam, it's called 'Babewatch' 
and it can be real exciting at times." 
   Sam raised one eyebrow and pulled a quirky expression at 
the scene on the screen, 
   "It doesn't look very exciting to me. Is it really called 
'Babewatch'?"
  "Well...er..no. It's actually called Baywatch but from 
where I'm standing....." Al glanced sideways at his friend 
and grinned, "And, yeah, well, I suppose it wouldn't do 
anything for you Sam, you being Mr Morals and all, but it 
really gets to us hot-bloodied Italian types." 

  Slowly tilting his head sideways, Al watched one of the 
'Barbie' clones race out of the sea, having rescued some 
hapless male swimmer, having dragged him up onto the beach 
and was about to administer mouth to mouth resuscitation.  
Sighing enviously, he remarked, "Aw, lucky guy! What I 
wouldn't give to be the guy lying under that pair of...." 
Sam cut his fantasy short. "Yeah, yeah, okay, okay! I get 
the picture." He picked up the remote and clicked off the 
tv. Al rounded on him peevishly,  frantically scrabbling at 
the tv remote, trying to reset the 'On' button and cursing 
silently as his fingers slipped through the piece of 
gadgetry only to close on thin air. 
   "Hey, what'd ya do that for, I was enjoying that!" 
  "Al, come on, at least try and get your hormones under 
control. You didn't come here to watch tv, you're supposed 
to be here to help me......at least I hope you're going to 
help me, 'cos boy, do I need it, things are real weird. Have 
you any ideas as to why I'm here, what this leap is all 
about? Why were you so long in getting to me....you just 
better not give me one of those 'I was just getting to know 
this real cute girl' excuses!"

   Al shot his friend a look of hurt indignation, "Calm 
down, calm down, when have I ever abandoned you in favour of 
a woman?" Sam raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to one 
side, a thin tight smile on his face. Al shrank a little,     
  "Yeah, well, I admit I sometimes get a little side-tracked 
but I would never leave you on your own for so long without 
good reason and in this case the reason wasn't a 
woman....not even Tina!"
   "So, what happened, what kept you? Was it something to do 
with the way I leaped out? Al, I've been getting flashes of 
memory from my last leap but I can't remember the end part. 
Did I complete my mission, what happened?"

   The older man jerked back astonished and surprised at the 
sudden revelation, "You can recall things? Sam, you don't 
usually remember your leaps, at least not without me 
prompting you, even then you have a real hard time. 
Sometimes that swiss-cheesed memory of your's won't even 
allow you to remember your own name!" 
   Sam rubbed, absentmindedly, at the back of his neck,
  "Well, this time's different. It all seems so strange. 
I've leaped into a guy called Pendrell who was working in a 
crime laboratory at the FBI building, I seemed to 
instinctively know the place, like I had someone else's 
memories. What's going on here, what's happening to me?" 
The Navy  man narrowed his eyes, he seemed deep in thought 
as he took out a fresh cigar, lit it and sucked it into 
life. Blowing out a small cloud of grey smoke, he directed a 
concerned gaze at his questioning friend, 
  "You leaped out ten days ago, for a while there we thought 
we'd lost you. I can't tell you how worried we all were.." 
Sam broke into Al's explanation, "But I've been 'out' for 
that long before, what was so different that it caused you 
to worry about me this time?" 
  Al stared at him, "Because, nozzle-head, the events 
surrounding your leap-out were far from normal, Sam.  What 
kind of memory flashes are you getting? How much do you 
remember?"
   
Pacing the floor Sam tried to explain, "I remember being an 
FBI agent. I remember being a guy called Fox Mulder. As far 
as I'm concerned, it feels like everything happened 
yesterday!" 

   Another agonizing flash of memories and feelings jolted 
him. Al watched in horror as Sam buckled with the pain and 
slumped back into the chair clutching his head. Gasping, he 
rubbed at his temples and slowly stared up at his friend, a 
look of sudden realization in his eyes, 
  "Al.....Ohh Al, I...I remember Dana. I can remember 
everything about her. I can recall everything that happened 
between us, we....we spent the night together back at the 
project apartments." 
  With trembling fingers, he tapped distractedly at his 
forehead. "Everything is so fresh in my mind, how could I 
have forgotten her....I'm still in love with her." Al looked 
on sympathetically as his friend hung his head in despair.    
  "And I know I'll probably never see her again." a look of 
torture darkened his eyes, "It hurts Al, it really 
hurts....we were meant to be together.......forever." 
   "I was kinda hoping you wouldn't remember that part. I 
knew you'd be upset. You never know your luck, kid, you 
might run into her again some day." 
  His young friend cast him a look that said, 'Oh yes, like, 
in a million years!'

   Al, moved as if to put a comforting hand on his younger 
friends shoulder and cursed quietly, he couldn't touch his 
friend, he couldn't give his friend any physical consolation 
or comfort whatsoever. Even thought he was right there with 
him, he felt so far away, so out of reach. He knew how Sam 
had felt about Dana, perhaps that was why he could remember 
things. Perhaps Sam's thoughts for Dana were so strong all 
the other memories surrounding her had indelibly imprinted 
themselves onto his mind and now they were all surfacing 
together.

   Albert Calavicci knew what real love felt like, he knew 
what it was like to find true love and then to have it 
snatched away. He knew how Sam felt about Dana, their 
relationship may have been short-lived but he knew that for 
Sam, it had been the real thing, the one and only deep love 
of a life-time. It was the love which his best friend had 
been so desperately searching. It was the main reason why he 
had  tried to advise his friend to be careful and not to get 
too involved, he knew how upset Sam would be if it ended 
badly. He hadn't expected his time-travelling buddy to start 
remembering things after the leap had ended. Usually, the 
interim period in limbo wiped all thoughts and memories 
away, helping him to cope with difficult memories and the 
next mission. 

   Al questioned him gently, "What else do you recall?" 
  "I remember getting back to the Project. I remember 
re-writing the retrieval program, Dana helped me. After that 
everything is shrouded in a thick grey fog."  
  A look of non-comprehension passed across his face, "Why 
didn't I leap home, what went wrong, everything was ready, 
wasn't it?" 
  Al drew in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, 
  "I'm sorry, kid but you never got around to trying it out. 
Don't you remember? Think, think real hard!" 
  Sam began rubbing at his temples, "No, no I don't. I don't 
know what happened after that night with Dana, everything is 
blank." The holographic observer appeared to sit on the arm 
of the chair, 
  "You never got the chance to test the retrieval program 
because you had to go back into the desert to play the hero 
and rescue a guy called Langly from the clutches of some 
little green aliens!" 
  Sam looked up at Al in shocked disbelief, "What!"  The 
observer's eyes began to sparkle excitedly, 
  "Oh boy, it was out in the desert, it was dark and there 
was this huge silver spacecraft hanging way up in the air, 
coloured lights were flashing all around it, there was a 
beam of spiralling multi-coloured lights shining down from 
it, spinning around on the dirt floor and there was this 
God-awful high pitched noise. Langley was laying unconscious 
on the ground just inside the weird beam. Boy oh boy, you 
should'a been there, it was really somethin' else....what am 
I saying, you were there. You stepped into the circle of 
light, you got him outa there but then you got beamed up!"  
He turned to study his friend's surprised face, 
  "You really don't remember, do ya?" Al tapped the cigar at 
his brow,  "Think.....try and pull it outa your mind. You 
were beamed aboard some sorta strange alien craft! Sam...you 
were abducted by aliens! Ziggy lost track of you....we...we 
thought we'd lost you for-ever. We were all going crazy.  We 
didn't know what had happened to you. Poor Dana, she was  
terrified, she was with you when it happened." Sam gasped 
the question,
   "Was she alright, did they take her too? Al, tell me she 
was okay!"
   "Calm down, she was fine....well, not fine exactly but 
she was okay. I was with her.....as a hologram but I was 
with her. We...she got left behind in the desert, she was 
outa her mind with worry, we both were! The weird craft 
finally returned the next morning. You must have leaped out 
right at the point you were returned, 'cos it was Fox Mulder 
who staggered back into the arms of Dana. She was devastated 
Sam.......then the time lines shifted and changed. I ended  
up back in the Imaging Chamber. I was sorta hoping that, as 
you just said you could remember some of the events, you 
could sorta tell me what happened after you were 
abducted....you know, what happened on board the 
space-craft...what...'they' were like, who 'they' were and 
where 'they' came from?" 

   Sam closed his eyes, a look of extreme concentration 
creasing his face, "Yeah, I...can see something, something's 
coming back to me. I kinda keep getting images of the 
desert. I get a sense of noise, a kind of whining 
sound....and lights...I remember pulsating coloured lights. 
I can sorta remember faces but they were human faces, just 
like you and me." A shudder ran through him, "It's muddled. 
and confusing." Rubbing at his eyes he looked back up at Al, 
"Argh! It's so frustrating, it's there but it won't come 
back to me. What was the point of abducting me if I can't 
recall what happened." 

   Suddenly Sam's mind was off on another track of thought. 
He was out of the chair and back to pacing the floor again, 
He paused, hope glinting in his eyes he asked, "If I 
re-wrote the retrieval program does that mean it's still 
operational? Could Gushie try a tracked retrieval with me 
here? I'm only four weeks into the past, it could work." Al 
shook his head sadly, 
  "I'm sorry kid, while you were on board that strange craft 
something very weird was going on back at the Centre. There 
were massive power fluctuations. Gushie said the whole place 
seemed to vibrate with energy for about ten minutes. A 
terrific surge of power  went through the whole set-up. I 
was lucky to get back through the Imaging Chamber before 
everything blew out. I shudder to think what would have 
happened if I'd been stuck in there. The whole place was put 
outa action. It was the reason I couldn't get to you 
earlier. We've only just managed to get the Imaging Chamber 
back on line and that's still got a few bugs in it. It  
messed up everything real bad. A lot of Ziggy's internal 
hardware was fried, it disrupted her data flows, destroyed 
all the new data we had and it destroyed the retrieval 
program. Every damned line of code was erased. Nothing was 
left to work on, nadda, zip, zilch, zero. The accelerator 
was hit too, burnt out several parts vital to its 
functioning. Every technician we had was put onto the job of 
getting everything ready for your next leap...this leap and 
we had one hell of a job getting the money we needed for the 
replacement parts. He gestured down at his attire. 
  "That's why I'm dressed like this, I had to go before the 
committee again this morning to beg for more funding...they 
didn't like it Sam, not one bit. They were just about 
prepared to abandon the whole thing. I couldn't let that 
happen, no way was I about to let them leave you trapped in 
time and on your own. It took some doing I can tell ya. I'm 
sorry Sam, but I had to tell them about the thing with the 
aliens and the X-Files. That got Wietzman's attention, they 
adjourned the meeting, came back half an hour later and said 
they'd provide more money just so long as we provided them 
with a full report on the last leap and any further 
associations with the FBI's Special Unit."

  Al tipped his Military cap back off of his forehead, "I 
guess it's gonna be a while before the technicians get it 
all running smoothly again though. Ziggy may not have all 
the data we need for this leap, you'll have to bear with us  
Sam, I didn't have time to collect any data before I centred 
in on you. In one way, it's a Godsend that you didn't leap 
sooner or you could'a been stuck without me and Ziggy for 
the duration. You're gonna have to help us out as much as 
you can." Al saw and felt the disappointment in his friend's 
expression.
  Sam's shoulders drooped, he nodded despondently, 
  "Okay. This is what I've learned so far. I'm an FBI agent 
called Daniel Pendrell. I work at the headquarters as a 
forensic expert. What odds does Ziggy give that this leap is 
connected to the last leap?" 
  Al took out the hand link and tapped at the keys. 
  "Uh huh, Ziggy confirms your identity. She also says 
Pendrell is a real clever guy, he's got several degrees and 
a couple of doctorates. He was brought up on a small horse 
ranch in Elm Bluff, which is only two hours drive from 
Washington. Due to ill health...er..heart trouble I think, 
Pendrell's father Bruce had to sell off most of the horses 
and went into semi retirement, he still has the ranch but 
it's more of a hobby now.  He  has a mother called Ammie and 
two sisters. His older sister is slightly disabled, her name 
is Kelly and still lives at home but his kid sister, Joan, 
moved to Alamosa, Colerado a couple of years ago when he she 
married....er...Oh, how about that! Pendrell is about to 
become an uncle. Joanie is about to give birth to 
twins...gee ain't that nice. Now, lets see what else we have 
here. Today is the 24th February 1997, which is only five 
weeks prior to the last leap. Oh, yeah, Sam, Ziggy says 
there's a 70 per cent chance that you're here in connection 
with a plane crash!" 
   "I kinda suspected as much, I have this strange feeling 
about it but the plane has already crashed. Was I too late, 
have I failed already?" 
  Al glanced up at his friend in surprise, "It has? When?" 
  Sam gestured towards the blank tv screen, it was on the 
news just before you showed up. He picked up the paper and 
waved it under Al's nose, "I read it in this evenings 
edition of the newspaper, too! It happened sometime 
yesterday!" Al was back to tapping at the hand-link. It 
squealed and died, he thumped it in annoyance, it screeched, 
whined and re-connected with the hybrid super computer.       
  "Okay, let's see what Ziggy has to say about that."  An 
odd look of surprise and concern darkened his eyes, "Ah, 
You..er..you're here to save two lives. One is an FBI Agent, 
the other is Pendrell." Sam's eyes widened, 
  "How? Pendrell has a safe job, doesn't he?" Al tried to 
skirt around the data he'd just read. 
  "Yeah, well, it's not exactly to do with his job, he just 
happens to be in the wrong or right place......depending on 
how you look at it, at the right time." Sam spread his 
hands, seeking for further enlightenment, 
  "So, what happened, where do I come in and what do I have 
to do to put things right?"

  Al removed his Naval cap, placed it under one arm and 
scratched at the back of his head, 
  "According to news reports, Pendrell was in a bar called 
the "Headless Woman", Ziggy says it's a favourite haunt for 
the guys at the Bureau. A guy called Frisch and the FBI 
Agent were there too. Frisch is a sergeant in the Air Force, 
he was...is a key witness to what happened in the air crash 
case, only it seems someone didn't want the truth to come 
out. Frisch and the special Agent were sitting near the bar 
waiting for a Federal Marshal to turn up and escort the 
sergeant to a place of safety, only the Marshall never 
showed up. It gets a little vague here, Ziggy says reports 
of what happened vary. There was a cover up of some 
sorts......some of this stuff is classified...hang on, she's 
got somethin'. Apparently, some hit guy showed up and tried 
to kill Frisch ...er...it's not quite clear whether Pendrell 
got in the way by accident or intended to play the hero but 
whatever, the result was that he took the bullet intended 
for Frisch. He got shot and died early next morning from his 
wounds." Al looked up and pinned Sam's gaze, "This all takes 
place some time tonight! You gotta go down to that bar and 
stop Pendrell from getting killed, that's your mission!"

   Sam rubbed a hand across his face, "How long have I got?" 
The observer consulted the hand-link once more, 
  "Sorry, kid, we don't know," he glanced at his watch,  
  "you'd better hurry though 'cos it's already nine o'clock, 
it could be anytime. All you have to do is turn up and cause 
some sort of diversion."  
  Sam, turned away biting his lip. His friend walked up 
behind him and asked with concern, "What's up, kid....what's 
wrong?"
    "What would happen if I stayed here? That would change 
things, wouldn't it. If I don't go to the bar, I can't get 
killed. Al, I'm in 1997 I'm not too far in the past. I'd 
kinda made up my mind to call home before this leap was 
finished. If I go to that bar now, if I do what I have to do 
and save Pendrell, I'll leap out and I may not get the 
chance again. I really needed to talk with Mom and Katie."
    "Sam.....you know we've discussed this before. You know 
you shouldn't go contacting your family, it's one of your 
own rules, remember? If you phone them they're not going to 
believe it's you, your voice will be different and even if 
you could cover that, it would make things very difficult 
for us back at PQL. They would want to know what you're 
doing and why you can't go and see them, it would stir up 
everything all over again." 
  Sam let his shoulders droop in despondency and 
disappointment, 
   "I know, I know, but surely it couldn't hurt just this 
once, I could make up some excuse as to why I can't see 
them. Please Al, please let me do this, I miss my family so 
much. I left it too late in the last leap...I thought I 
would surprise mom after I'd leaped home. Tonight may be the 
last chance I ever get to speak to them!"
  Sam turned to his friend, his eyes were full of soft 
pleading. Al sucked at his cigar and looked away, he hadn't 
wanted to say anything to his friend but now he had no 
choice, "Sam, you have to go, if you don't, Frisch will die 
and so will the FBI Agent." 
   His time-travelling friend didn't seem to be listening, 
he seemed to be searching for an alternative solution so 
that he could stay where he was. 
  "Sam......you have to go because......you have to go 
because the FBI Agent is Dana Scully!"
   Eyes wide, Sam shot round to face Al. "She's here in 
Washington? Ohh, Al, I get to see her again.....to talk to 
her....why didn't you tell me, this alters everything!" 
  The smaller man shuffled his feet awkwardly, 
  "I didn't want to get your hopes up, you may not get the 
chance to talk to her and even if you do, she won't know you 
as who you really are."
   "I know that! But just being able to see her again, even 
to be close to her for a brief time, that's something." 
Suddenly his face creased into a look of panic, 
  "Oh my God! She could in terrible danger, I  can't let 
anything happen to her, come on I have to get down there as 
quickly as possible!"

Loping off into the bedroom to get dressed, he called back 
to Al, "Find out where this place....the..er..'The Headless 
Woman' is, I need to know how to get there fast and ask 
Ziggy to search through any data she may have...find out how 
long I've got?  I really need to know what time the shooting 
took place." 
  Al tapped frantically at the hand-link, reception was 
intermittent and broken. "I think the bar is just down from 
the Federal building, yeah, Ziggy says it's about a half a 
mile away, up on the left hand side. Sam, listen, I hate to 
leave you but I'm gonna have to go back and  get this thing 
fixed. I'll get with Ziggy while I'm there and see what she 
can come up with as to the exact time of the shooting 
incident. I'll meet you at the Bar. See ya later, Kid. I'll 
try not to be too long."

-- 
Heather Markham