Message-ID: <19980829063311.467.qmail@hotmail.com> From: "Carol Belyea" Subject: A Shining Star for a Lonely Heart - Chapter 1 Date: Fri, 28 Aug 1998 23:33:11 PDT A Shining Star for a Lonely Heart by Carol S. Belyea Chapter 1 Rebuilding Project Quantum Leap from the ground up was certainly not a simple task. Miraculously and for the very first time, the congressional committee actually sympathized with the project. Since it was finally proven to them that time travel was in fact possible, they obviously must have seen the opportunity for the future. But the grant that was allocated to Dr. Sam Beckett for the project was only half of what Sam expected. Amazingly, neither he nor his partner, Admiral Al Calavicci, were upset by this. It was, after all, much better than nothing at all. So, by using the funds that the committee granted them for rebuilding and putting that together with some funding left over from before, Sam and the rest of the PQL staff were able to reconstruct a new project compound. They had to clear out the old location, the same cavern in Stallion's Gate, NM, since it would have taken more time and funds to start in a new one. During rebuilding, everyone on the staff had found new places to live that weren't on location. Everyone, including Sam and Al figured it would be much safer that way. It was a miracle that there were no casualties from the explosion that had destroyed the initial site in the first place. Most of the junior staff found apartments in the near by city of Alamogordo. The rest found small housing conveniently located in the suburb of Stallion Springs, only a few miles away from PQL. The three years went by very quickly as PQL was being reconstructed. The walls were up, the electricity worked, the new hybrid computer built but programming was still under way. All the conveniences and luxuries of the previous project had to be sacrificed to increase security and update the technology. Now the only thing holding everyone back was learning all the new technology that came out in the past few years. Catching up to all the new capabilities of current state-of-art computer hardware and software was still a frustrating task for the staff. Especially for Sam and Al. Not only was it daunting but it also made them feel old. Much in the same way that people had once felt when they traded in their manual typewriters for a word processor. Professionally Sam and Al were able to overcome the humiliation that came with learning the new technology. This for the sake of putting the project back together. Personally, their friendship drifted further apart as time went by. It didn't help Al's dignity when he had to watch his best friend enjoying a family and a "full" life from the wheelchair that Al was confined to. To Al, it was as though his paraplegia was a lifetime sentence to loneliness. No one on the project staff seemed to be helping either. Verbena Beeks, the project psychiatrist, treated him like a patient more than a friend, turning all his questions around to, "What do you think, Admiral?". Dr. Gushie Crosnolf tried to ignore him every time they happened to run into each other, sometimes literally. The rest of the staff were just plain uncomfortable around him. So much that they managed to be over compliant to the point of showing pity or completely forgetful by Al's intimidating bitterness. That still hadn't changed much at all in three years time. ********************** Stallion Springs February 18, 2003 It was evening by the time Al Calavicci arrived home after a typical day at PQL. Home was very differently decorated compared to the apartment he lived in three years before. Living in Stallion Springs since the destruction of the original Project has shifted his tastes in interior decoration. That, and one incident involving Donna's desperate attempt to cheer him up. Though the inside of his home was under furnished and lightly decorated with a Southwestern style, it was thankfully not as drab as the military gray theme Al had once used in his living quarters of PQL before moving out to the suburbs. All superficial traces of his military decor had disappeared with the request for his resignation from the service. The excuse the brains at the pentagon mentioned was that his disability made him incapable of carrying out the duties his rank required of him. Parking his customized forest-green Camery in the drive way of his little house, he pulled out his wheelchair from the back seat, transferred into it and closed the car door. Originally, the house he'd bought had steps to get to the front door. He'd long since modified the steps into a ramp but every time he'd used the darned thing, he couldn't help but be reminded of what he wouldn't be able to do for the rest of his life. Back when the whole thing started, he'd been borrowing a wheelchair from the hospital, thinking the paralysis was temporary and would eventually go away. A few months after that, he was forced to buy one of his own and though it was sporty looking, with a black frame, slanted wheels, and a low cut back, it meant that it was permanent. As he approached his front door, he picked up the mail from the mail box next to the door when the phone began to ring. Quickly opening the door, he briefly wondered who on Earth would want to call him. Due to his anti-social manner, he was usually left alone. And Donna knew better than to call before visiting because Al would most likely talk her out of even coming over. Closing the door behind him and throwing his scarce mail onto a small table by the door, the phone rang two or three more times before Al picked up. "Hello?" "Good evening!" came an overly cheerful female voice from the other end, "I'm Laurie Shannon from the DCS in New York City." "Don't tell me," he said cynically, "I might have already won 10 million dollars and a brand new car, right? Well, thanks but no thanks." He hung up before he even gave her the chance to explain herself. He barely got three feet away from the phone before it rang again. He sighed and picked up the receiver up once more. "Please, don't hang up!" Said the woman. "This is official business and I'm not selling anything." Curious, Al exhaled and said, "Okay, I'm listening." "Is this Admiral Albert Calavicci I'm speaking to?" "Retired. Now, what do you want?" Al was beginning to grow a little impatient with this person. But then again, he felt that way with everyone which is mainly why no one bothers calling him anymore. "As I've mentioned before, my name is Laurie Shannon and I'm with the DCS in New York." "Would you mind explaining what the DCS is?" he asked impatiently. "Department of Children's Services. I have a few questions to ask you if you have the time." "Alright. Shoot." "Are you the brother of Catherine Lee Amorello?" "No, I'm not. Sorry to waste your time . . ." But before he could hang up again, Ms. Shannon quickly got out another question that caught his attention. "Are you the son of Katrina Rimsky?" He paused. "What did you say?" he asked slowly. Knowing that she had his attention now, she continued carefully, "Was she your mother?" "Yeah, what's it to you?" "Katrina Rimsky Stevens was also the mother of one Catherine Amorello. I'm assuming you are not aware this woman was your half-sister." "Why do you keep using the word 'was'?" "I'm sorry to report that Mrs. Amorello was murdered some four weeks ago and we have been trying to locate her nearest living relative." He replied bitterly, "Well, I'm sure my mother would fit that description perfectly." "I'm afraid your mother passed away some five years ago." He felt more shock than sorrow from the news and said nothing. "I'm sorry for being the barer of such bad news about two members of your family in one phone call . . ." "So, where does Children's Services come into this?" Al interrupted, ignoring the woman's sympathy, "I'd expect a call from a probate lawyer instead." "Mrs. Amorello had a daughter, your niece. We've been trying to locate relatives before resorting to the next step which would be foster care." "So, where's her father?" "In the New York State penitentiary serving 20 to life for the murder of Catherine Lee Amorello." He froze, trying to comprehend all the misfortunes at once. He wasn't stupid and Al knew exactly where this was leading up to. He decided to cut to the chase. "So what's the kid's name?" Knowing that just by asking the child's name was a sign she was looking for, Shannon smiled slightly, "Her name is Carlie." -----------------------------