From: aa811@cleveland.freenet.edu (Terri M. Librande)
Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative
Subject: That Terrible Price Part 2
Date: 16 May 1993 15:01:18 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio (USA)
Message-Id: <1t5kvu$gg@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu>

The I.C. doors opened obediantly and I left the room numbly, 
knowing there was only one place I should go to.  The Waiting Room, 
where Sam had to be now, must be, and I had made him wait long enough.
The satisfaction of crashing through the doors was lost to me; they
were wide open.  Med Team, crash cart, the works.  Verbena tried to 
coax me out.  I shook her off, my eyes on Sam's motionless body, my
ears ringing with the flat tone coming from the monitors.

"What happened?"

My words made every head turn. I could only imagine what I must look
like to them; wild, madness making my eyes crazy.  I'd spent a few nights
with that insanity, and not too few hours staring at him in the mirror.

The sound of the monitors became less of a tone; a rythmic beating of
artificial life, perfectly sustained.  With a jarring shock I knew, just
by the expression on the doctor's face, that tight look the man got when
things were beyond his skill.  "Damn it," I said, keeping my voice jsut
under control.  "Tell me."

"We lost him."  Dr. Swann shook his head, never much for words, that one.
"Sam is on life support.  I think the 'host' ...died.  You tell me."  His
eyes were dark and sad, questioning me, wanting answers.

"He was shot."  That was it, all I could say.  I tossed the link to the 
floor and slammed out of the room, ignoring Verbena and all those faces.
Sam's face at the end, all that blood....  The men's room was quiet
and not condemning.  I threw up, like a kid after the prom who'd had too
much to drink, down to the bile in my stomach that burned my throat like a
bad memory.  Pressing my head to the cool porcelain, I flushed away the
pain, and tried to think.  My chest hurt, my head was worse, and the t
sight of Sam Beckett was firmly ingrained on my mind.  Ziggy.  He'd
know, I thought, if anyone would, where Sam had leaped to, or if he'd...

I splashed cold water on my face, avoiding the mirror image, wiping the
wet off with a brown paper towel.  As I exited I tossed balled up wad of
paper against the wall, heading my butt to Control and answers.

As I entered, Gooshie looked up at me.  "Bring Ziggy on line," I shouted.

"Ziggy," he began, his eyes tipping down, avoiding mine.  I knew what he
wanted to say; that the computer was was depressed or upset.  I didn't want
to hear that.  Nope.  I wanted results, not minor or major computer 
breakdowns.

"ZIGGY!"  I literally screamed at the blue panel above me. "Where's Sam?"

DR. BECKETT'S IMPLANT SIGNAL IS...GONE, ADMIRAL.  I CANNOT DETECT HIM IN
ANY OF THE STREAMS OF TIME.  SEARCHING IS UNDERWAY, AND I WILL DO THE BEST
I CAN TO EXPLORE EVERY ALTERNATIVE.

"No signal."  Glancing from the computer, to Gooshie, and back again, I 
the awful truth settled over me.  We had lost him.  Without the signal, we
had no way to center on him, and with no way to center, I couldn't communicate
with Sam.  If this was true, he was truly lost to us.  It was my fault, all
of it.  I'd chosen this night to get the damned car serviced.  That 
lousy twenty minutes of lube and oil had cost Sam his life, and me, my
best friend.

"Find him, Ziggy," I asked, my voice as quiet as the despair falling on
my soul.  "Just do it, and soon."

Verbena, damn her, was waiting outside the Control doors, her face 
concerned and a little pissed.  "You're blaming yourself."

"Don't start with me," I muttered, heading for my office.  I could think
better behind closed doors, privacy.  "I'm not blaming anyone, but I'm
going to find him."

"Find...?"  Verbena maneuvered her way around me, blocking my way with
her hands braced on my chest.  Stopping, I sighed, head bent, ready for
her words.  "Al," she said, reasonably, as if I were a child, and I
HATE that.  "Dr. Swann thinks that Sam died at the same time the host did.
There was no transference, and by all indications, no Leap.  We can keep
his body on monitors and life support til kingdom come, but it's just
a shell.  As his legal guardian, you have to make the decision..."

"I'm not ready for that, not yet, not now!"  My words were rude and 
cutting, and I didn't care.  "Right now, all I"m thinking is that Sam
is alone out there.  Until we've exhausted every possibility, I won't
say he's dead.  I don't feel it; doesn't that make some kind of differance?
My tone had turned to pleading, wishing someone would listen to me.  Her
impassive face told me volumes.  Not only did she not believe me, but
she thought I was being unreasonable.

"To hell with you,then," I said bitterly, and pushed past her and into
the relative quiet of my office, locking the door behind me.  Ihated
to even think it, but it seemed Ziggy was the only one on my side, searching
for Sam.  I sat down at my desk, bare of paperwork.  That's when the 
adrenalin rush ebbed, and I shook like a frightened child, waiting for
the nerves and guilt to stop.

Down to brass tacks.  First of all, Sam wasn't dead.  I made that perfectly
clear in my mind, blocking out that damning voice that told me to be
logical.  No, God or whoever wouldn't let me die far from home, and the
people that cared about him.  Secondly, I had to get myself together
or I'd be in no shape to help, Sam, once we found him.

more to come...

Terri L.

--
"Girls who have glasses have lots & lots of energy!" Al--Single Drop of Rain
Terri Librande aa811@cleveland.Freenet.edu--Assistant Sysop
The Science Fiction and Fantasy Sig--Go SCIFI

-- 
"Girls who have glasses have lots & lots of energy!" Al--Single Drop of Rain
Terri Librande aa811@cleveland.Freenet.edu--Assistant Sysop
The Science Fiction and Fantasy Sig--Go SCIFI