Chapter 37
Sam’s office was almost untouched from the time he’d left it; a few more files strewn on the desk seemed to be the bulk of the difference. He assumed Donna had rifled through his papers at one time or another in an effort to take care of business, or perhaps see if he’d left any clues on retrieving him.
Some photo frames were moved around—and some photos were distinctly different from the ones that had once been there thanks to the changes Sam had made in his own life. It was disorienting to have the memories fight in his mind over what was meant to be there and in what position. He almost wished he didn’t have a photographic memory that could detect such minutiae in his environment.
One photo in particular, which hadn’t been there before, caught his eye—the photo of a young Sam and his older brother Tom, which Al had once shown him from the Imaging Chamber. He’d said he’d save it for Sam’s return, and it was evident he’d kept that promise.
Promises, thought Sam. I’m not so great at keeping those myself, am I?
He sat down at his desk, staring at the phone a moment before picking it up and dialling a number that hadn’t existed in his memory before he’d leaped and saved his brother from his fate in Vietnam.
He recalled he’d made his brother promise to find a hole and hide through the day of his death, which he’d never done; the impetus for Sam’s arrival there in the aura of Magic. Heh. Guess it runs in the family, not keeping promises.
“Hello, Tom speaking,” came a somewhat distracted, terse voice over the phone.
For a moment, Sam lost any words, and he let out something in between a squeak and a groan from his dry throat. He regrouped, licking his lips, and tried again.
“Hi, Tom.” His voice lacked the booming authority of his brother’s. “It’s—”
“Sam?!”
Okay, he recognises my voice. That’s something.
“Yeah, you got it in one.”
“Oh my god. I… I thought you were… where have you—wait, it’s really you, isn’t it? I’m not being punk’d or something…?”
“Punk’d?” Sam said in a questioning tone, not knowing what that was supposed to mean.
“‘Smile, you’re on Candid Camera’, that kinda thing. You know, a prank.”
Sam recoiled at the suggestion. “My god, that would be a mean prank to pull if you really thought I was dead! What sick kinda person would do something like that?”
“Damn, it really is you,” Tom laughed. “Nobody gets indignant quite like my little brother. Jeez, I… I just can’t believe it…”
Sam brushed at the tears now making rivulets down his cheeks with the heel of his hand. “It’s real good to hear your voice.” Tom would never grasp just how good it really was.
“So? What happened to you? Why did you drop off the map? Years ago I got as far as talking to this guy—uh, Calavicci, right? Said he worked with you—but he stonewalled me on your whereabouts. So give me the real story, would ya?”
“Al and I worked on a top secret project, the details of which I’m not comfortable explaining over the phone. But it left me… uh, indisposed… for some years. I’m alright, though. None the worse for wear.”
“Where are you now? If you don’t want to explain on the phone, I can come see you. Hell, I can get the next flight to wherever.”
“You’d do that?”
“Sam, are you kidding? My little brother rises from his grave and I’m supposed to settle for a phone call where he can’t even spill the beans about what he’s been doing?”
“…Thanks, Tom. Do you have Donna’s current address?”
“She still at that place in Mountainview?”
“Yeah. I’m back with her there.”
“Boy, she must be happy to see you, huh? Listen, I’ll be there soon as I can. Love you, little bro.”
“I love you too, Tom,” Sam croaked.
The line clicked and went dead. Sam replaced the handset with a trembling hand. If there was anything that was going to keep him rooted to this time, it was going to be family, he thought.
He picked up the phone once again and began to dial his mother’s number.
* * *
“So I just put my hand here, and then…” Ben laughed with delight as the console lit up and a beam of light emerged from the hand plate, connecting with the orb in the ceiling. “Oh, that is cool.”
It all felt much more tactile than what he was used to. All these big flashing buttons and noisy controls. Retro, and yet enormously advanced for its time.
“Right, now you’ve logged in, so to speak,” explained Gooshie. “You can now access these controls…” he pointed to the console where a series of panels had lit up with data displays and slider controls. “I’m sure Ziggy has restricted your access so you can’t do any damage.” He looked up to the orb for confirmation.
“I do have a self-preservation imperative, Doctor Gushman. You needn’t worry. Oh, and did I mention Tina just entered the cafeteria?”
“Ah, nuts,” Gooshie said. “I can’t leave you here on your own.”
“It’s alright, Gooshie,” Ziggy insisted. “Please go ahead. There’s nothing problematic that Miss Calavicci is capable of doing here. I will page you if there is any problem.”
Ben squinted with suspicion at the orb, before shrugging at Gooshie. “I promise I won’t explode the place. And I’m sure the others will be back any minute.”
Gooshie considered this a moment, before giving in.
“Well, alright. I guess there’s no harm, then. Just, um, don’t make me regret this, okay?” He gave Ben a weak smile before heading into the corridor that led back to the elevator.
Ben folded his arms, speaking up toward Ziggy’s consciousness. “Alright, what’s going on here? There’s obviously a reason you got me alone.”
“Doctor Beckett is keeping secrets,” she said smugly. It was clear she was relishing having knowledge of something intriguing.
“What do you know, Ziggy?”
“I hear very nearly everything that goes on in these walls,” Ziggy said, continuing to be cryptic. “For example, I know that Doctor Beckett was brought home by one Benjamin Song, of the year 2023.”
“That’s nice…”
“And that Addison Augustine is his hologram.”
“Well, isn’t that something.”
A moment passed.
“My goodness, you’re just going to make me say it, are you?” Ziggy finally sulked.
“Go on, then… say what?”
Ziggy scoffed. “The disrespect! What sort of people are they picking to be leapers in the future? Are you even a quantum physicist, Ben Song?”
So Ziggy does know.
“Hey, there’s no rule that says a leaper has to be a quantum physicist,” Ben said, suddenly defensive of Addison, “but if you must know… yes I am. Okay?” He sighed. “I guess you got me. How did you find out?”
“Oh, just by keeping my ears open.”
Ben grimaced. “That therapy session you eavesdropped on?”
“Yes, and that wasn’t all I heard.”
Another moment passed.
“Well? Don’t you want to know?” Ziggy sounded like she was desperate to tell him whatever she was keeping secret.
“What? No! That’s private! And probably illegal to disclose!”
The orb above flickered in response. “Suit yourself. But I think Doctor Beckett may need another perspective on the…matter at hand. That’s all.”
“So let him come to me if he wants,” Ben said, rolling his eyes. “God, are you a computer or a town gossip?”
“Oh, I am certainly both,” Ziggy said as though it were obvious. “Now, do you want an update on the work from last night, now that I know it must be related to your leap?”
Ben nodded. He had been worried about time running short on his plans. “Yeah, how is it going?”
“I have disabled eight computers belonging to key members of CAP.”
“Disabled? Wait, that’s more than I asked…”
“You’re welcome, Ben Song,” Ziggy said cheerily. “However, this has only marginally disrupted their plans and according to cellphone records, they may have already started gathering outside the high school.”
“Dammit.”
Shouldn’t Addison already have told me this? Where is she, anyway?
“The good news is that I can only verify six participants in this gathering so far.”
“Okay, that’s manageable.” He frowned. “But I’d better get back, pronto.”
“I have already paged the necessary people,” Ziggy said. “Ah, it feels good to be needed again. Such a shame I’m to be shut down in a matter of days.”
“Well, it won’t be forever,” Ben said, “I promise. And… thank you.”
“We’ll see if you’ll be thanking me in two days time,” Ziggy said quietly.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You didn’t want me to tell you, remember?”
Ben opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps made him close it again.
“Hey, where’s Gooshie?” Al asked as he stepped into the Control Room, looking around in confusion. Behind him, Sammy Jo and Addison entered.
“Lunch with Tina,” Ben replied, still none the wiser on who Tina actually was.
“Huh, not like him to leave Ziggy alone with a stranger.” Al shook his head. “Well, never mind. Ziggy, you called us back here?”
“Yes. I was just telling Miss Calavicci that there are anti-gay protesters gathering at her high school. It may be prudent to proceed back to Albuquerque before Miss Calavicci and her girlfriend are barred from their prom.”
“Anti-gay—” Al scowled. “What a bunch of nozzles picking on a couple of teenage girls like that!” He grunted, and turned on his heel. “All right, tour’s over, folks. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. I’ll go grab Sam and we’ll meet at the elevator.”
He disappeared down the hall, and Ben met Sammy Jo’s curious eye.
“Ziggy’s pretty perceptive,” he said, shrugging.
“Yeah. I guess she is.”
Addison tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “Mom, would you mind if I go with Janis? We’re organising a counter-protest.”
Sammy Jo’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Gosh, you girls must have really hit it off last night.” She smiled. “Alright, just make sure you stay safe and peaceful. Don’t get into any scuffles.”
Addison beamed at Ben. “Of course not, Mom. Promise.”