Chapter 5
“What’s the damage, ’Beena?” Al asked as he leaned into the door of the Waiting Room.
Inside, Verbena had a thermometer gun pointed at Bobby’s ear as he lay on a hospital bed, face pale and beaded with sweat. He was hooked up to a drip and a heart monitor, which appeared erratic.
The psychiatrist looked up at Al with a grim smile.
“He’s very sick, but we still haven’t been able to figure out exactly why. He’s going to need close observation and a team standing by in case things take a turn for the worst.”
She leaned in to his ear, whispering. “We did find traces of…” she cleared her throat, “uh, LSD in his blood. But most of his symptoms aren’t consistent with the effects.”
“Acid, huh? Maybe he still thinks that’s what’s goin’ on.” Al looked down at the patient, whose eyes were open but unfocused. “Hey, kid. You with us?”
Bobby blinked , his eyes flicking up toward Al and squinting at his burgundy blazer.
“Huh?” he mumbled through a slack jaw.
“Bobby, can you understand what I’m saying?” Al continued.
Bobby responded with a nod, but he accompanied it with what may have been a disapproving groan, and brought a hand to his face. “Stop,” he croaked.
“Bobby, if you can describe your symptoms a little more, we can help you feel better,” Verbena said, gently rubbing his shoulder.
Bobby groaned again. “Stop… stop saying that…” he muttered, hiding his eyes. “I’m not—” he cut himself off, turning himself over and leaning off the bed, retching. Verbena grabbed at a sick bag and placed it at his mouth as he lost his lunch.
“You’re not what?” Al asked, as Bobby continued to dry heave.
“I’m…” he said, and finally settled back on the bed, burying his head in the pillow. “I’m not Bobby, man,” came his muffled conclusion.
“What…?” Al turned him over to look into his face. “What do you mean by that?”
But the kid had passed out.
Al exchanged a bewildered look with Verbena.
“Any ideas?” Al asked, raising an eyebrow.
Verbena shook her head. “I don’t know. He was the one who gave me his name to begin with. He seemed fine with it earlier.” She licked her lips. “Well, he’s not exactly in his right mind. It could just be feverish nonsense.”
“Or the acid?”
“Or the acid,” Verbena repeated with a smirk. “That could be a factor.”
Al nodded. “Well, you keep at it when he comes around.” He turned to leave, but paused, looking back. “You know, the Imaging Chamber just went kaput. I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to get back to Sam any time soon. But, well, Sam’s havin’ a bit of a crisis. Up here.” He tapped his temple. “You oughta get a relief doctor in here and get some rest, ’cause you might be needed for him later.”
Verbena furrowed her brow. “What kind of crisis are we talking about here?”
Al snorted, but met her eye with an uneasy look. “The kind of crisis you’d expect from someone who’s been through what Sam has the past four years. Maybe it’s finally caught up with him.”
Verbena gave Al a sad smile. “I see. Well, in that case I’ll take your advice.”
“Okay, I’ll see you round, Beeks. I’m gonna go get a real cuppa joe, since I’ve gotta wait around for the Imaging Chamber to come back online.” He waved, and headed for the door, taking one final look back at the man on the bed with sweat drenching his hair. He realised that to everyone else here, the kid had Sam’s appearance. It must have been real hard to see him that way.
Al shook his head and continued out, still wondering if whatever was wrong with Bobby was the reason Sam was so out of sorts, though he couldn’t quite connect the two seemingly very different problems in his head.
* * *
In a tract ranch house in the San Diego suburbs, Sam awoke in a bed next to a woman he’d gratefully found sleeping the night before, rather than awaiting his entrance with lacy lingerie and a come-hither look.
Still, he hadn’t had a peaceful night at all. He’d spent most of it staring up at the ceiling, trying to quell the deep unease he felt in the pit of his stomach. Al had assured him he’d feel better in the morning, but if anything he felt worse, because he was so tired. Not to mention all his hours alone with his thoughts, which twisted and writhed into anxiety.
And he still hadn’t seen Al since his hologram had glitched out the night before, which only added to the ruminations. They had time to fix whatever the problem was before he was due to be killed, but knowing that did little to calm his nerves.
More than just his impending deployment, he’d reviewed what he could recall about all his leaps, and began to realise just how much he’d suffered. Whoever was putting him through all of this had a sick sense of humour, he decided. Having him fix everyone else’s problems, and all the while, never giving him a break. Was he doomed to this servitude forever?
Sam gingerly pulled back the covers from his bed and crept out of the room, letting Brenda continue to sleep off her overindulgence. The less he had to deal with her, the better.
It was now seven in the morning, and Sam rubbed his eyes as he headed into the kitchen for breakfast. He began systematically looking in each cupboard and drawer to find out where everything was located; something he tended to do when given the chance, to save him grief later.
“Sam!”
Sam looked up from his crouched position under the kitchen bench. The voice came from… he couldn’t tell where. It sounded like a bad radio signal.
“Al?”
“Hey, can you see me?”
“No, I can’t see you at all. What the hell’s going on?” Sam whispered fiercely as he stood and turned himself in a circle, eyes peeled for a flickering hologram.
“Damn,” the crackling audio of Al said. “Listen, we’re having trouble with your brainwave signal, Sam. You gotta bear with us, okay?”
“My brainwave signal?” Sam frowned. “What does Ziggy say about it?”
“She says there’s some sort of interference, but she hasn’t worked it out yet. We’re using twice as much power as usual just to get you hearing me, but that’s better than earlier, so…”
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning.
“That’s great,” he griped. “That’s just great. Well, have you at least got any news for me? I don’t suppose I have a chance of getting out of here any time sooner than you thought?”
“Sorry, buddy, no such luck,” Al said. “And the kid in the Waiting Room is sick as a dog, too. We don’t know what’s causing it.”
“Sick?” Sam rubbed his forehead. This was nothing but bad news, and he was beginning to wish he hadn’t asked.
“But listen, we found LSD in his system.”
“LSD?” Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Nobody mentioned that last night. They were all just drinking alcohol.”
“Well, it was there,” Al assured him. “And meanwhile we have you with the bad vibes turned up to eleven—everything’s gone caca, Sam. But I promise you we’ll fix it. You just keep your head down and wait it out, okay?”
Sam slapped a bowl onto the kitchen counter and started filling it with Rice Krispies. “Yeah, well, thanks for nothing,” he muttered. “I was gonna do that anyway.”
Al was silent, causing Sam to look where he had been calculating the audio had been coming from, and realised that he was now seeing Al, but not hearing him, even with his mouth moving.
“Dammit,” he said. “Now I can see you but I can’t hear anything. This is even worse!” Sam threw up his hands. “You know what, forget it. If this is how it’s gonna be, don’t even bother. You might as well go home. Maybe then at least one of us will get a good night’s sleep.”
He turned from Al, poured some milk over his cereal, and walked away in a huff.
* * *
Meanwhile, in a tepee on Moonstone Ranch, another Sam awoke beside yet another woman he’d not touched, and immediately saw a faded, flickering Al standing in front of him.
He sat up, resting on an arm and brushing the sleep from his eyes with his free hand.
“Al, you made it!” he said, almost laughing with sheer relief to see his best friend. The relief turned to confusion, however, when he noticed that Al seemed to be looking above him, and talking. But Sam couldn’t hear a word of it.
“Al, I can’t hear what you’re saying,” he said, climbing to his feet and waving a hand over the oblivious Observer’s face. “Al?”
“Who are you talking to…?” came Marsha’s sleepy voice from below him.
Sam looked down at her awkwardly. “Uh, nobody. Just myself.”
Marsha yawned. “Oh. You talk to yourself in the second person?”
“Sure, don’t you?” Sam said with a crooked grin.
“Well, sometimes I guess,” she said, and rolled over to get more shut-eye. “Far be it for me to judge whatever alien customs you have. Just don’t be too loud, Al. It’s still so early and I’m not ready to wake up.”
Sam watched her a moment, smiling. This commune was so carefree. Time meant little here, it seemed. He was starting to see the appeal of living this way. No clocks, no deadlines. Everyone helping each other out.
“Look Sam, I’m worried about you,” came Al’s voice quite suddenly.
Sam whipped his head around to the hologram, only to find it was no longer there.
“What do you mean, Al?” he whispered.
“Please just try to relax a little while you can,” the disembodied voice continued. “Promise me that—aww, dammit. Gooshie! He lost audio now!”
“Wait, I didn’t,” Sam insisted. “I just got audio. Can’t you see or hear me?”
“Dammit. This is pointless now if he can’t hear me. I’m gettin’ out of here and we’ll regroup.” With that, Sam heard the Imaging Chamber door open and shut, and then heard no more.
He stood there for a moment, trying to understand what had just happened. It was almost like Al had been incapable of generating the audio-visual hologram of Sam’s environment, and as such was attempting to speak with him sight unseen. It clearly hadn’t worked too successfully.
Well, he thought, shaking his head, At least now I know he’s trying to get to me. I’m sure they’ll figure out how to properly get in contact eventually.
Man, what a great team he had, working so hard just to keep in touch, because they all cared about him so much. It just about brought a tear to his eye. What did he do to deserve them?
Sam smiled. For now, he figured he’d do exactly what Al had requested: try to relax a little. And what better place to do that than here?
Sam stepped out of the tepee, taking a deep breath of the fresh air, and looked out across the flat expanse, with tufted grass and bushes growing wild over sandy soil, with a bright blue, cloudless sky overhead.
Maybe that was why he leaped here. For a nice, relaxing vacation. Sam closed his eyes, letting the sun warm him. Yeah, this was a pretty nice leap. He had no idea why Al would be ‘worried’ about him.