Date: Sat, 16 Oct 1993 17:20:15 -0500 (CDT)
From: 2EI5ZEMANP@vms.csd.mu.edu
Subject: "In Your Eyes" - Part II
Message-Id: <01H46SAAGOCY90NLAT@vms.csd.mu.edu>

                                   IN YOUR EYES
				      Part II
                                  By Philip Zeman
                             2ei5zemanp@vms.csd.mu.edu


     Sam returned to the table after a few moments, not really ready to face
Janet and the group.  He was still amazed by how they accepted Neal for who he
was, not what he looked like.  `Must be terrible at college,' Sam thought. 
Then he stopped for a minute, trying to remember if he was accepted at college
or not.  `This swiss-cheese memory can be hell sometimes.'  Taking a deep
breath, he steeled himself for what was always unpleasant - making small talk
without any knowledge whatsoever.  Hopefully they wouldn't ask too deep
questions.
     "Neal, you were gone so long, we thought you fell in," Janet said, and
Karen giggled.
     "So, anyway," Sam continued as he sat down, "what were we talking about?"
     "We weren't, we were ready to eat.  Don't worry, it's still hot."
     Sam took a bite, and he wished Al was there, so he could gloat a bit. 
This was some good food.  "Mmmmm.  That's some good ravioli!"
     "You've always liked ravioli.  Hey, remember Homecoming a year ago?  We
went to Geppetto's, and you, Mara, and I had the ravioli races around the large
bowl rims?"
     "Yeah!  That was, er, funny," Sam laughed slightly, wondering what she was
talking about.
     "Don't worry, it was the crouton's fault!"  Janet broke into laughter, and
a few people around them stared, then continued eating.
     "The crouton's fault?  I don't get it...." said Karen.
     `Neither do I,' thought Sam, but he laughed anyway.  "Yeah, Janet!  How
did that start again?"
      "Well, we had ordered a large salad, and Mara said that she didn't like
croutons.  When it came..." Janet went into a long story involving bread crumbs
and digestive discomfort that Sam wished he hadn't heard.  `Oh, boy.......'

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     * 
     
     Al braced himself for the next task.  Each Leapee reacted somewhat
differently to him, and the whole Project, but most were scared out of their
minds.  He hoped Neal would be different, as he always hoped.
     Entering the Waiting Room, Al motioned to Verbena Beeks.  "How is he
doing, Verbena?"
     "Surprisingly, very well.  He has adjusted well to the effects of time
displacement.  In fact, the only other person who adjusted as well was Maxwell 
Stoddard.  Remember him?  He was the elderly gentlemen who was thrilled that we
were aliens."
     "Yeah, I remember him.  What does Neal think we are?"
     "He hasn't said anything about that, but I foresee no problems with him
 talking to you."  Verbena let the two men be alone.
     "Hello there Neal.  I'm Al.  Al what, I can't tell you.  First, how are
you doing, kid?"  The "kid" was almost automatic.  He saw Neal, but he also saw
some glimpses of his friend Sam Beckett in there.  Whether it was seeing traces
of Sam's physical aura or seeing the resemblance in youthful looks, Neal
reminded him of Sam.
     "I'm doing great, uh, Al.  But drop the `kid', okay?  I get enough of that
at college and Dairy Queen."
     "Sorry, Neal, it's just that --"
     Neal didn't let him finish.  "It's okay Al, didn't mean to jump down your
throat.  Everybody does a double take when they find out I'm 18.  So, what can
I do for you?"
     Al silently gave thanks that Neal was going to be cooperative.  "Well,
first of all," he said as he pulled out the hand link, "you can tell me what is
the last thing you remember."
     Neal grew quiet for a moment, and closed his eyes.  "Let's see.  I picked
up Janet, then we went over to Karen's house.  After that, we went to, um," he
stuttered. "Al?  I can't remember where I was going!"
     "It's okay ki- I mean, Neal.  That's to be suspected after... what you
went through."
     "And just what did I go through?  Was I drugged and carried away
someplace?  No wait - you shocked me!  I remember a blue light and electricity,
right as Janet - My God!  I didn't take Janet to Homecoming, did I?  She's
never going to speak to me again!"
     Al calmed him down.  "No, she's all right, you weren't drugged, you are
part of a government experiment."  He immediately thought, `Why did I tell him 
that?'
     "An experiment?  Me?  Cool!"  Neal seemed to be delighted with his
situation.
     ADMIRAL CALAVICCI?  The sexy voice resounded through the room.
     "Yes Ziggy?"
     FROM WHAT RECORDS I CAN PULL AND WHAT INFORMATION YOU HAVE GATHERED FOR ME
I CAN PREDICT WITH 89.6 PERCENT PROBABILITY --
     "Hold on Ziggy, I'll be right there."
     "Ziggy?  Who's Ziggy?  And can I see her?"
     Al decided there was no real harm in telling Neal a little bit.  "Ziggy is
our computer, and maybe you can see her later.  I gotta go, Neal.  I'll be back
later."  As Al left, he could see Neal's incredulous expression at the
mentioning of the word "computer".
     When he reached the Control Room, Al admonished Ziggy.  "Ziggy, you know
you should never reveal facts about what is really going on!"
     WHY NOT, ADMIRAL?  YOU DO IT ALL THE TIME.  The voice seemed to grow smug,
then grew lighter with feeling.  BESIDES, NEAL PHILLIPS REMINDS ME OF DOCTOR
BECKETT.
    `You too?' Al thought.  "Okay, what have you got."
     BEFORE I WAS INTERRUPTED, I WAS GOING TO SAY THAT THERE IS AN 89.6 PERCENT
PROBABILITY THAT DOCTOR BECKETT IS TO KEEP NEAL PHILLIPS AND JANET WILLS
TOGETHER. 
     "Or what?" Al asked, already not liking the answer.
     OR ELSE JANET WILL FIND A NEW BOYFRIEND AND GET MARRIED, AND IT LEAVES
NEAL DEVASTATED.  HE CAN NEVER REALLY GET OVER THIS LOSS AND HE DRIFTS FROM JOB
TO JOB, NEVER REALLY HAPPY.
     `Okay, so he's a little like Sam... and a little like me.'