Message-Id: <3250CF0E.6225@labs.cc.ukans.edu> Date: Tue, 01 Oct 1996 01:58:06 -0600 From: "Daniel E. Hayes" Subject: Dark Intent: revisions of part 1 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Dark Intent By. Daniel E. Hayes Part One: The Tip Daniel E. Hayes It starts with darkness. Of course, that's how it always is. It is one of the few constants that the weary traveler can count on. The darkness and the memories. For this brief instant in time he knows who he is. He knows why he1s here. Name? Samuel Beckett, Born in Elk Ridge, Indiana. A brother Tom, and a sister Katie. But unfortunately Tom was killed in Vietnam. No,1Sam yells triumphantly into the void,1He1s alive. I saved him1. With seven doctorates, and a Nobel Prize, he is the founder of Project Quantum Leap, and the only man to travel in time. He has friends who care for him, and a place to return to. And for that one second in time, he is at piece. But all too soon comes the familiar tug, telling him that it is time to go back to work. Back to a life of helping others, with no reprieve. No reward except after each new job, when that same little second would return to prepare him for the next. As he feels the edges of his consciousness pulling him he gropes for something, anything, that he could take with him. 'It's not fair,'Sam screamed into the nothingness,'When will I be done? Why can't I just go home?!' **Whack** He stumbled back, attempting to regain his balance before he could fall backwards. Righting himself Sam looked towards the source of his newest troubles. He had to be one of the meanest looking men that god had created. He was tall enough that you had to look up at him, and Dressed all in white. From the looks of his clothing he appeared to be in uniform. And one that had an oddly familiar style. Where was he? Next to the demented expression on his face the most striking thing about him was the thing in his hand. It looked like a night-stick. Where the devil was he? The man before him leaned forward and yelled in his face. "What the hell is the matter with you, Baker? Do you have a problem paying attention, when I'm talking to you?" He seemed to want an answer really badly. But for the life of him, he didn't know what to say. After what seems like a life-time of leaping into other peoples lives, Sam had learned that sometime if you1re not carefull it1s easy to say the wrong thing. Besides, whoever this guy was, it didn't look like an answer was going to suffice anymore. "Oh, boy"He mumbled under his breath. This whole thing reminded him of a really sorry army movie he had seen as a kid. "What was that, Baker? I didn't hear you!"The man bellowed at him. Sam was used to leaping into difficult situations but this was just too much. And where was Al? Almost as if on cue, Sam heard the whooshing sound of the Imaging chamber door opening. "Ugh, oh, Sam. Looks like your in trouble with old Iron but there."Al stated, in what Sam had come to know as his semi-conscerned rasp. "Just say, no Petty Officer, Sam."He commanded, adding quickly,"And whatever you do, don't look him in the eyes. Oh, boy, they really hate that." "No, Petty Officer."Sam said, trying to zero in on the hairs growing between the man's eyes. "Louder, Sam. What are you trying to do, get in more trouble?"Al asked. "Shout it" "No, Petty Officer!"Sam barked out, hoping Al knew what he was doing. "You better not be, you maggot brained, sorry excuse for a sailor,"the Petty Officer bellowed in his face. "Or I'll come down so hard on you, you'd think a train had hit you! Now get back in line!" All too happy to comply Sam backed up into the gap between two other nervous looking kids. As far as Sam could guess, they weren't any older than twenty years old. Where on God's green earth had leaped now? He quickly assumed the rigid stance of the other two young men and stared straight ahead. Al walked around in front of him. He almost wanted to look away when he caught sight of what Al was wearing. In a neon green suit, and matching fedora, he looked like he belonged standing next to a lit bar sign. Catching Sam's gaze Al looked down at himself, and then back up to Sam. "Hey, just because you have no sense of style doesn't mean the rest of us have to be the same."He said with a twinge of hurt in his voice. Al was very protective of his clothing styles. Pulling a cigar out of his breast pocket, which had been specialy altered to hold his stogies, Al began giving Sam the details, as the Petty Officer paced down the line of frightened kids yelling at each in turn. "Ugh, Sam. Your name is Seaman... huh... *thwack* Recruit, Joseph Baker, United States Navy. It's August 5, 1983, and your about three weeks into Basic Training in..."Al paused to hit the hand link, causing a string of high pitched beeps and mechanical sounding gasps to come out of it. " You're in Greek.."He hit the machine again,"Great Mistakes... *thwack, weez, gasp* ...Great Lakes, Illinois. You're about forty minutes outside of Chicago. You're nineteen years old... and"Al paused. Sam sent him a glare that said 'get to the point already'. Al looked less then thrilled with what he read. "We got a problem Sam. Ziggy says that sometime between now and August ninth... Joseph Baker is found Beaten to death two miles south of here. Ziggy's having troubles with the files and we're not entirely sure of it yet, but the only suspectin the death was someone named David Garrett."At Sam's blank expression, he elaborated,"Petty Officer, First Class, David Garrett. Although Ziggy's having troubles with the file and we're not entirely sure of it" "Oh boy!"Sam sighed, to loudly. The petty officer turned and glared at him. The brass name tag on his uniform flashed in his direction long enough for him to read the name. It was almost too much for him to stay standing, the letters burned into his memory. GARRETT. End Part I ***Please stay tuned in for more possible installments as the weeks progress. I hope to hear some of your thoughts and ideas. Hope you like it so far.