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From: krk1@pyuxe.uucp (24220s-knights)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: LEAPTREK - PART II
Keywords: Story in 4 parts
Message-ID: <1992Jun8.154708.22519@porthos.cc.bellcore.com>
Date: 8 Jun 92 15:47:08 GMT
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Organization: Bellcore, Livingston, NJ
Lines: 469


LEAPTREK

by Katriena Knights

PART II

On the bridge, another person had taken his post behind the captain's chair.  
Sam swallowed a great deal of air in his effort to contain an 
exclamation of surprise as he stepped out of the turbolift.  
In fact, he nearly turned around and got back on the turbolift.  
He wasn't sure he wanted to be anywhere too near this large, 
dark-skinned creature with a forehead that looked like a beetle's carapace.  
But then the man -- or whatever -- looked at him, and he saw 
respect in the dark, hooded eyes.

"I am glad you are well, Captain."  The voice was deep and resonant, 
pleasant in a dour sort of way.  Sam forced a smile.

"Thank you."

Riker switched to his own chair as Sam approached, letting 
Sam take the captain's chair.

"Mister Data," Riker said, settling back in, "give the Captain a full report."

The pale android swung around in his chair.  Most of his movements, 
Sam noticed, were smooth and precise, but when he spoke his head 
bobbed back and forth like a robin investigating a wormhole.

"The turbulence we experienced appeared to be caused by a spatial 
anomaly combined with the gravitational effects of our return to 
impulse power from warp speed, as I suggested earlier.  
However, it appears now that the anomaly was temporal as well as spatial, 
and has affected our normal placement on the time continuum."

"You mean we've travelled in time," Sam stated.

"That seems to be the case, yes, Captain."

"Any idea how far, or in which direction?"

"Analysis of star positions in this sector indicate late 
20th century, Captain."

"Any suggestions on how we might get back?"

"If the anomaly still exists, we may be able to utilize it to 
create a reverse effect.  Otherwise, we can make use of the slingshot 
approach by accelerating around the planet.   
However, given the unlikelihood of the first possibility and the 
inherent dangers of the second, it would be worthwhile to 
investigate further."

"How long will it be before we have enough information to make a decision?"

"One could spend an infinite amount of time analyzing the possibilities, 
Captain.  And even then, given the difficult nature of the problem, 
one could never be certain of a definitive answer . . ."

"Take two hours," Riker broke in.  "Come up with a couple of 
reasonable alternatives with input from Geordi and Worf.  
Then we can meet and discuss."  He looked at Sam, awaiting confirmation.

"That seems appro --"

"Holy Great God Almighty!"

"Captain, I have detected an unusual reading off our port bow."

Sam jerked around in his chair, trying to look like he was responding 
to the announcement from the non-human officer behind him.  
In truth, Al's sudden exclamation had just about sent him out of his skin.

"What the hell is that?" Al continued.  Apparently Picard made some 
contribution, for Al turned his head away from Sam.  
"Oh, I see.  That's Lieutenant Worf, Sam.  He's a Klinger.  
What?  Oh, sorry.  Kling -_on_.  God, is he ugly."  
He gave Sam a knowing look.  "Makes me glad I'm a hologram.  
Don't get this one mad, huh, Sam?"

Sam dropped his face to one hand.  "Can we see it on the screen, Mister Worf?"

There was some beeping and clicking from behind Sam's shoulder as Worf 
fiddled with the controls.  "Negative, Captain.  Composition still
uncertain, but it is not visible."

"Do some checking," Sam said.  "See if you can figure out what it is.  
Data, you find out what you can about alternatives for dealing with 
this situation, and have Commander LaForge provide information on 
the ship's ability to manage any of them.  
We'll meet in two hours formally to discuss our findings."

Sam looked at Al.  He was talking to thin air, apparently 
discussing something with Picard.  At his station, 
Data stood and turned toward Sam.

"Permission to join Commander LaForge in Engineering, Captain.  
I believe it would be easier to make judgements on viable alternatives if 
we work together."

"Granted," Sam said.

"You need to get to your little office over there, Sam, so we can talk," 
Al put in.  "Picard here says he doesn't like the idea of you 
impersonating him, but as long as you seem to have the welfare of 
his ship in mind, he'll help you out.  But you need to get some 
information from him as soon as possible."

Sam turned and gave Al a questioning look over his shoulder.  
Worf apparently thought it was aimed at him and began 
poking at his control panel again.

"Tell them you want to do some investigating yourself.  Give Riker the conn."

Sam nodded.  From behind him, Worf announced, "The anomaly appears 
to be unchanged, Captain.  It also appears to be stationary.  
Shall I continue monitoring?"

"Yes, please do."  He stood, administering a yank to the perennially 
creeping tunic.  "I'm going to do some investigating, myself.  
Commander Riker, you have the conn.  I'll see you in two hours."

   ****

As usual after a long session of brainstorming with Data, 
Geordi LaForge was beginning to feel as if he had a head full of oatmeal.  
He had reached his limit about twenty minutes ago, 
what with the continuous tingle of residual pain in his mended 
wrist and the deeper ache of pain from other recent events.  
He had about forty minutes until they were due to meet in the 
conference room, and it was just past the time he had been 
starting his sessions with Counsellor Troi.  
Normally, under an emergency situation, he would have foregone anything else.  
But lately he felt like his own systems were working on little more than 
auxiliary power, and he wasn't sure he could make it through the day 
without at least a few minutes with Troi.  Besides, Data and Ensign 
Lara had things well in hand, and anything was better than sitting 
here next to Lara, trying not to think about what had passed between 
them and been ended so abruptly three days ago.  
And today, for once, he had something else to discuss with the Counsellor.

Geordi swiveled his chair away from Data's, rubbing his wrist.  
"If you think this is all under control, I'm going to slide down to 
sickbay and have this wrist looked at again."

Data answered without looking up.  "That would be advisable, 
Geordi, if your wrist is still causing you distress."

"Right."  Geordi allowed a glance at Lara.  "Keep up the good work."

"Aye, sir," the ensign replied.  She didn't return his glance.  
He forced himself not to look at her again, though the delicate 
curvature of her faced danced at the edge of his vision, daring him.  
Resolutely turning his back, he left Engineering and headed for the turbo lift.

Of course, he did not go to sick bay.  Deanna 
Troi was in her quarters when he arrived.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Geordi said as, smiling, she waved him in.

"Oh, not at all, Geordi.  I assumed you wouldn't be here because 
of everything else that's going on.  Come in and sit down.  I was just 
watering my plants."  She gestured with the small watering 
can she was carrying. 

Geordi did as bidden.  He was certain, after some limited research, that 
Deanna had the most comfortable furniture on the ship.  
Of course, it was logical, considering her job, but a nice perk nonetheless.  
Deanna disappeared into her bedroom for a moment, letting Geordi settle in.  
When she came back, she had her Counsellor face on.  
She sat down across from him.  She always looked so 
relaxed when she sat down; it was hard not to follow her example.

"So, how are you doing today, Geordi?"

"I don't know.  I was feeling all right this morning, but now. . ."

"I do sense a great deal of turbulence."

Geordi laughed mirthlessly.  "Yeah.  Turbulence.  That's a word for it, 
I guess."  He paused, looking at his hands.  "I've been in 
Engineering all morning brainstorming with Data and . . . 
Kylaree.  It wasn't easy."

"Have you spoken with her at all?"

"No.  She doesn't want to talk.  She won't even look at me.  
It just makes it that much more difficult to understand."

Deanna nodded.  "As much as we hope these things won't happen, 
sometimes they do.  And when they do, sometimes they take a long 
time to heal.  But it will get better.  I promise."

Geordi took a deep, slow breath, trying to get his insides to settle down.  
He had heard the words before, and from anyone else he would have 
considered them patronizing.  But from Deanna he could take them to heart, 
because he knew she knew exactly how he felt.  
He was not certain what exactly had gone on between her and Will Riker, 
but he knew she must have suffered something similar to 
what he was feeling now.

"I think it would be easier if it hadn't been so sudden.  
I mean, it all came out of nowhere and it was one of the most intense things 
I've ever experienced.  Then she just . . . decided it had to be over . . ."  
Vaguely, he felt Deanna's light touch on his hand as his words trailed off.  
More than anything, he wanted to ask her if Lara had been coming to see her, 
if she was hurting the way he was.  But Troi wouldn't tell him even if he 
had the nerve to ask.  He put his hand over his VISOR, 
blocking himself off for a moment.  Forcefully, he turned his mind to the 
other reason why he had decided to keep his appointment with the counsellor.

"Have you sensed anything unusual from the captain lately?  
I mean, since we struck the anomaly?"

Deanna looked puzzled, probably as much by the sudden change of subject 
as by the question.  "I can't say I've been concentrating too 
strongly on the captain since I went off duty this afternoon.  
Everything seemed to be well in hand.  Why do you ask?"

"Well . . ."  Geordi considered, trying to figure out how to 
explain this without sounding foolish.  "I saw him in sick bay 
just after we took that jolt and he just didn't look right.  
It was like . . . well, it was like his image was coming from 
a different set of wavelengths.  And when Dr. Crusher was 
checking him to be sure he hadn't suffered a concussion, 
the scanner registered the wrong blood type."

Troi shrugged.  "It could have been a defective scanner."

"Yes, you're right.  It could have been.  But when Dr. Crusher 
tried to get another one, to double check, Captain Picard 
effectively ordered her to leave him alone."

"Well, that sounds typical.  You know the captain hates being fussed over."

"I don't know.  It just seems weird."  He shook his head.  
"Maybe I'm reading something into nothing, just because I'm wound up."

"That's possible."

"Well."  He stood.  "I think I'll go have Dr. Crusher take a look at my 
VISOR, just in case it's malfunctioning.  
Although it seems odd that it would malfunction only on Captain Picard."

Deanna smiled.  "That sounds like a good idea.  
And then see if you can get some rest before the briefing."

     ****

After a briefing from the real Captain Picard -- via Al -- 
Sam felt much more sure of himself.  
The briefing, however, had not changed the magnitude of the 
problem he was facing.  It had only given him an idea about how to handle it.

When he arrived at the conference room, all the requested 
participants were there except Geordi LaForge.  
Sam watched them while they waited, reminding himself of names, 
ranks, and functions.

Commander Will Riker, Second-in-Command; 
Lieutenant Commander Data, android, repository of multitudinous information, 
useful and otherwise; Lieutenant Worf, Klingon, head of security, 
inclined to assume hostility from anything unfamiliar; Deanna Troi, 
ship's counsellor, half human, half Betazoid, who according to 
Picard could often supply unique insights in situations dealing 
with alien intelligences.  Sam was not completely certain why she was here, 
but Picard had said she was usually included in these meetings.  
Sam had already braced himself for Al's reaction to her presence; 
she was an extremely attractive woman, and the low cut of her 
tunic flattered her nicely.

Al, however, was surprisingly restrained.  He walked around her a 
couple of times, going through the table to get all possible views, 
sucking thoughtfully on his cigar.  Sam tried not to watch him, 
though he, too, was intrigued by Troi.

After a time, Al removed the cigar, looking thoughtful.  
"I wonder if she's just like a human woman."

Sam shook his head and wondered why he had expected anything else.

"Oh, don't tell me you don't look at her, too."  
Al was talking to the empty space next to him again.  
"Man, if I was captain of a ship full of women like that I'd . . ."  
He broke off.  "You," he said, pointing emphatically to nothing with the 
cigar,  "are worse than Sam Beckett.  I'm stuck in a world of prudes . . ."

_So that's what I look like talking to Al_, Sam thought.  
_No wonder everybody thinks I'm nuts._

Geordi appeared then.  He sat down next to Troi, who smiled at him.

"Well, we're all here, so let's begin," Sam said.  
"Commander LaForge, what conclusions have you come to?"

LaForge nodded to Data.  "I'd like to allow Commander 
Data to summarize, if I may."

Sam nodded approval to the android.  Data was sitting very straight, 
his too-white hands folded primly on the table.  
His head rotated precisely to face Sam.

"Captain, analysis of the anomaly indicates that
it is a rudimentary form of time bubble."

Al's attention jerked from Troi to Data.  "_What_ did he say?"

Data had more bombshells to drop.  "Its shape and size 
are remarkably regular, implying that its source is artificial.  
In addition, it appears to be stationary over a particular point 
on the planet, indicating a source from the planet's surface."

"What point on the planet appears to be the source?" 
Sam put in, but he had a feeling he knew the answer.

"It appears to be emanating from somewhere in New Mexico."

_Oh, boy_, Sam thought.  Al was poking furiously at the handlink.  
"I'll be back," he said.  "I'm going to check this out."

Sam nodded to him.  Across the table, Deanna Troi was watching him rather 
closely.  He wondered if he had betrayed something in his face when 
Al had spoken.  The Counsellor's expression was neutral -- 
almost too neutral, like a poker player holding a royal flush.

Data was continuing his discourse.

"In any case, Captain, if we were to try to duplicate the effect 
which led us here, we would have to strike the bubble while returning from 
warp speed.  I see no reason why we would not be able to reproduce this 
combination of factors, but I cannot 
guarantee it will produce the desired results."

"And what about the slingshot approach?  What's the viability of that?"

"I have calculated the necessary acceleration to achieve the appropriate 
length of time leap using the slingshot technique.  
However, the accuracy of these calculations is, as always, questionable.  
In addition, under these conditions there is always the danger that the 
massive gravitational forces will destroy the ship."

"I see."  Sam couldn't help but feel a little smug.  
They were from the 24th century, and they still obviously had very little 
knowledge of controlling time travel.  
And Picard had had the nerve to call Project Quantum Leap quaint!  
"Well.  Those are the options.  Any further input?"

"I would like to comment, Captain."  
Geordi leaned into the table as he spoke, looking past Data.  
Sam nodded for him to continue.  "I would suggest attempting 
the former option simply because the danger to the ship is less.  
We were travelling at warp 6 when we came out and contacted the anomaly.  
Recreating this situation would cause very little stress to the engines.  
Attempting a slingshot effect would produce considerable strain.  
But, in any case, before we attempt anything, I would like to 
run a diagnostic test on the engines to be sure no hidden damage was 
done in the initial jump."

"That seems wise.  Does anyone else have anything to add?"

Riker and Troi shook their heads.  Worf cleared his throat.

"Captain, has it occurred to you that this might have been 
a trap set by the Romulans to prevent our arrival on Earth 
to discuss the reconfiguration of the Neutral Zone?"

Riker shrugged.  "He does have a point, Captain.  
It seems odd that we encountered this problem so close to Earth, 
and while engaged in so important a mission."

"If this is the case," Worf continued, "then it might be wise for us to 
approach the anomaly very cautiously.  It may be a trap."

"Agreed.  Thank you, Lieutenant Worf."  Sam stood.  
"Mr. Data, continue to monitor the bubble and let me know
if there are any changes, or if you are able to derive
any additional information. I'd like to know as much as 
possible before we make a final decision.  Mr. LaForge, run your 
diagnostics and let me know the results.  The rest of you may 
return to your stations.  Thank you."

As they walked out, Troi took hold of Geordi's arm and began to 
speak to him in a low voice.  Wondering what that was all about, 
Sam sat back down in his chair and leaned back, pondering. 

Al popped back in before Sam could form a coherent thought.  
"Oh, shoot, she's gone."

Sam swiveled in his chair to face the hologram.  
"What did you find out?"

"Ziggy says it's very likely that this bubble 
thingama-whatcha-hoosie is caused by Project Quantum Leap."

"He can't tell you for sure?" Sam was not only disappointed, but amazed.  
Ziggy always had an opinion, calculated to at least two decimal places.  
He was as bad as Data.

"Well, Ziggy's not concentrating too well.  
He's not used to transmitting signals into space."

"Well, hopefully this will all be over soon.  
I'll see if I can find out from here if there's a connection.  
If there is, Data should be able to come up with something."

"That's right, I forgot.  You've got your own little version of 
Ziggy up there keeping you company."  He poked idly at the handlink.  
"I hope it's over soon," he said, lowering his voice.  
"I'm getting sick and tired of this Picard guy."

"Oh, come on, Al, surely he's not that bad."

"Well . . ." Al hesitated.  "Tina thinks he's sweet."

"Ah.  Jealousy strikes again."

"Yeah, well, he could have the decency to not be so friendly."

"Why?  What's he doing?"

"Oh, he's been, you know, talking to her."

Sam gasped in mock horror.  "Oh, no!  Not that!"

"Oh, come on, Sam.  What is a highly educated guy from the 
24th century going to talk to Tina about?"

"I don't think you give Tina enough credit.  She's a very sweet girl."

"Oh, what do you know?  You can barely remember your own name."

"Sam Beckett," Sam said defensively.

"Yeah, but what's your _middle_ name?"

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it again as he found himself 
mentally staring down another of the many gaping holes in his 
selectively edited memory.

"Ha!" said Al.

"Well . . . I do have one, don't I?"  
Encounters with the empty spots in his memory always left 
Sam feeling insecure, and this example was particularly disquieting.

And Al was no help.  He shrugged.  "I don't know.  You never told me."

"Al . . ."  Sam started, but he was interrupted by the return of 
LaForge and Troi to the conference room.  
Which was just as well, because he was not at all certain what 
he had been about to say.

"Look sharp," said Al.  "They look worried."

They did, indeed, look worried.  Sam stood.

"Some final concerns?"  he asked.

Geordi looked at Troi, who looked back at Geordi and nodded once.

"Yes . . . Captain," said Geordi.  
"We'd like to know just who the hell you are."

"Oh, boy," said Al.
--------
Katriena Knights
"Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time!"
                         -- Samuel Beckett, "Waiting for Godot"