Quinntum Leap

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5.1  ·  Jailbreak

“Hey, wake up…”

An entirely-awake Sherri turned over on the bed, towards John’s voice, and glared at him.

Do I look like I could sleep at all on this thing?

“Oh, you look terrible,” John said, grimacing. Sherri simply huffed, and headed for the faucet, where she splashed her face with the questionable water.

She looked John up and down. He was still wearing the outfit Al had put together for him. Her questioning face was enough for him to reply: “Yeah, I know. It felt wrong to choose anything else. So, you’re stuck with Gay Willy Wonka, I guess.”

He chuckled. “And you had a point, before. Bright colours can only help you when you’re following me to get out of here, right?”

Sherri smiled, giving an affirmative thumbs up.

“You made your choice?”

Sherri nodded, adjusting the hand gesture to show two fingers.

“Alone?” John looked disappointed, and Sherri understood. She responded with a sad shrug and another nod.

“Alright. Lemme just give Higgins the heads up…” he tapped away on the handlink for a moment, as Sherri returned to her bunk, and sat down. “Okay… I’ll head out to the corridors and scan for Kromagg brainwaves.”

He phased through the wall beside the electric field, and moved his handlink around like he was trying to get a phone signal.

“Looks like there’s a couple headed this way,” he called out.

Sure enough, what Sherri guessed to be the guards from the previous day appeared at the doorway.

“Attention. Slave Unit 47-G is instructed to report to the showers for personal hygiene.”

As before, the room sprang to life, as the compliant people around her climbed to the floor and stood at attention. Sherri silently followed suit, as she made eye contact with John, who was hovering behind the soldiers.

The field was deactivated, and Sherri felt a hand grasp hers, once again, as the prisoners filed out two-by-two. Sherri hung back to the end of the pack, leaving her immediately in front of the soldier that watched the rear of the group. As she reached John, he began to walk beside her.

“Alright, you want to time it so that you’re between the elevator and the staircase,” he said, looking closely at the blueprints on his screen. “We’re two levels below ground here, so you just have to climb a couple staircases and um… hurt some guys.”

He grimaced. “You need to take their weapons, and if any of ’em sound the alarm before you get out, you’re toast. Higgins thinks it might be necessary to… well, you know.” He ran a finger across his throat.

“I’m just glad it’s you, and not me.”

Sherri shot him a look.

“Alright, I’ll leave this part to you,” he said, as the group turned the corner into a corridor that ended in the elevator doors, with the stairwell entrance towards the other end.

Sherri swallowed her fear.

Okay, it’s now or never.

In one quick, smooth motion, she snatched the particle weapon from the rear Kromagg’s unsuspecting grasp, and shot the front guard in the head. It was a risky shot, given the number of people between her and him, but the perfectly symmetrical nature of the formation allowed her a straight shot past the human heads and into the Kromagg head that was squarely in the centre.

Before the soldier behind her had a chance to react, she elbowed him in the jaw, stunning him long enough to shoot him as well.

“That was great, Sherri,” John said. “Now, get the bodies in the stairwell to buy some time. You’ll need their keycards, too.”

Sherri nodded, and looted the keycard from the Kromagg beside her, along with a large knife, before dragging him by the arms towards the stairwell door.

The other prisoners were standing silently, not knowing what to do; all except for Tim, whose mouth was gaping as he stared at her.

“How did you…”

Sherri gave him a distracted smile. “Get the others back into their cell,” she instructed. “Make sure the ’maggs know none of them had anything to do with this, okay?”

Tim nodded, looking at her with a speechless awe.

She opened the door, and dragged the first guard in, before returning to the other one, and taking his weapon and keycard, and repeating the process. Meanwhile, Tim had begun shepherding the others back toward their quarters.

As she piled the second body atop the first, she closed the stairwell door, and began sprinting up the stairs. John was waiting at the exit to the ground level, holding up a hand. As she reached him, she stopped, and caught her breath.

“There are two more just on the other side of the door,” John said. “Higgins says you should lure them in.”

Sherri took a deep breath, calming her nerves.

Steady heart, steady aim.

She glanced around, trying to formulate a plan of attack.

Two guards. Swinging door. Stairs up, stairs down. Two particle guns, one knife.

Positioning herself on the hinge side of the door, she gave a light knock on the door. A moment later, it opened, and a Kromagg emerged, looking in the opposite direction from Sherri’s position. She took her opening, and held the knife to his throat, pulling him towards her. He cried out, and the alarmed second guard jumped in the door, looking around frantically. It was unfortunate for him that he had moved directly into Sherri’s line of fire. She pulled the trigger, and he collapsed, falling down the stairs.

“I don’t want to kill another one of you,” she whispered to her hostage, “so you can either help me get out of here and live, or end up like the other three I’ve already killed. What do you say?”

He raised his hands. “I… I’ll cooperate…”

“Risky move,” John commented. “Be careful.”

“Throw your weapons down the stairs, and walk me out of here.”

She released him from her grip, and he turned, seeing her face for the first time. His mouth dropped open.

“Yeah, you got hoodwinked by a blind lady, congratulations. Weapons down.”

He stepped back a few paces, and pulled out his particle gun. He squinted at Sherri’s eyes, before looking down at the gun. Slowly, he rose it towards her.

“Sherri, watch it!” John said, frantic. “He thinks you can’t see what he’s doing.”

To Sherri’s surprise, the Kromagg’s head turned towards John, giving Sherri an opening. She shot the soldier, and he fell to the ground in a heap.

“Did he just look at you?” she hissed at John.

John nodded. “I’ve been… getting that a bit,” he explained, biting his lip. “I don’t think they can see or hear me, not exactly. Just sort of sense something in my general vicinity.”

“Well that could come in handy,” she said, before creeping to the door. “How’s my path looking now?”

He poked a head through the door. “Coast is clear on the next leg.”

Sherri quietly opened the door, and looked to either side, before hurrying out. John followed, and took the lead as he guided her down a series of corridors, before giving a ‘stop’ gesture at a three-way intersection. She hugged the wall, awaiting his next instruction.

“Okay, Higgins has two options for getting out of this tree. One involves shimmying out a tight window. Higher odds of escape, as long as you can fit through. That’s where the aura distortion may be a problem.”

“What do you mean?” Sherri whispered.

“Well, if the window conforms to your aura’s size, you won’t fit. If it doesn’t, you’ll go through easily.”

Sherri cringed. “Do we know which one is more likely?”

John tapped a few times on the handlink. “Fifty-fifty.”

“Great,” she said, frowning. “So what’s the other option?”

“Sneaking through the main lobby,” John said, his brow furrowed. “It’s gonna be pretty tricky. I’ll have to spot you extremely carefully.”

Crap.

“If the window’s too tight, will I know before I get stuck?”

“Uh… probably?”

“Okay,” Sherri pinched the bridge of her nose. “Give me the odds of each option, taking all of that into account.”

John entered the data into his handlink, and gave a pensive look at the results. “Looks like the window is now 39 per cent, and the lobby is 46 per cent.”

“Yikes,” Sherri said, a sinking feeling in her chest. A sinking feeling that descended much further when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Spinning around, her heart skipped a beat as she came face-to-face with Tim.

“You told me to tap your shoulder if I changed my mind, right?”

5.2  ·  Debriefing

Holbrook Systems Warehouse
January 3, 2003

No sooner did Al’s sports car pull into the parking lot of the inconspicuous warehouse, than Colin burst through a door, his focus trained on the eyepiece of the Reality Lens.

Sam stepped out of the vehicle first, and received Colin’s close scrutiny, followed by Al, Donna, and Gooshie.

“Okay, you’re all clean,” he announced, as he gave a thumbs up towards the door, where Quinn emerged, followed closely by John and Alia.

Al nodded to John, who grinned back. “Hey, it’s my favourite hallucination! As garish as ever, I see.”

Al merely raised an eyebrow at this, as Sam extended a hand to his Earth Prime double, who accepted the handshake.

“Been a long time, Sam,” said John. “Well, not for you, I guess.”

After a pause, he glanced down at Sam’s arm and added: “Wow, strong handshake.”

Sam gave a snort, noting how much his double had aged into a carbon copy of himself – except that he had notably lower muscle tone throughout his body.

“I guess I have a more… physical vocation,” he said, feeling self-conscious.

As John poked a curious finger into Sam’s firm bicep, Sam’s gaze fell upon Alia’s melancholy, glistening eyes, and he felt a wave of emotion come over him.

“It’s really you…” he said, as she wrapped her arms around him. “I… never thought I’d see you again. I’m glad you’re okay.”

She gazed up at him. “Likewise.”

He felt eyes on him from behind, and he turned his head to see Donna giving Alia a terse look. Sam pulled out of the embrace, sheepish.

“So, Alia, this is my wife, Donna.” He gestured to her, then back to Alia. “Donna… this is Alia.”

“I know who she is,” Donna said, arms crossed. “How do we know we can trust her?”

“She’s got a point, Sam,” added Al. “She could still be working for… whoever the heck was leaping her before. Bizarro Ziggy and the bad guy crew.”

“That would make a sweet band name,” Colin said, elbowing Quinn.

Sam frowned at his friend. “We freed her, Al. Those days are behind her. She’s one of us.”

“Who’s to say they didn’t catch up with her?” Al said, lighting up a cigar, and waving it around, leaving trails of smoke in streaks around him. “They forced her to work for them once; they could do it again.”

John furrowed his brow. “Hey, come on. The both of us are only here now by the, uh, grace of that bartender. So…”

Sam gestured to John, while meeting Al’s eye. “Yes, exactly! She’s clearly here for a reason.”

Al took a long drag on the cigar, staring at Alia with his eyes narrowed. Alia withered under his gaze, but stepped towards him warily, pleading with her eyes.

“Look, I know you have no reason to trust me,” Alia said, voice wavering. “But I want to take down Lothos more than anyone, you know? I want nothing more than to burn that place to the ground.”

She shivered. “But it doesn’t exist yet. At least, I don’t think so. I’m actually from the year 2023.”

Silence followed, as everyone present took in this surprising information.

That isn’t so much of a shock, thought Sam. I’ve spent my life thinking fourth dimensionally.

He met the eye of John, and knew he was thinking the same thing.

It does pose questions about how she leaped as far back as ’56. She only looks thirty-something.

His mind raced at the notion that Lothos could potentially be leaping people well outside the bounds of their lifetime. Either that, or skin care technology took its own quantum leap in the ensuing twenty years.

Another car appeared on the horizon, heading their way.

“That’ll be the rest of the team,” Sam said, pointing towards it. “When they get here, we can start the debrief proper.”

He turned back to Alia. “Now, that detection device you were using to pick up on the Lothos leap signature… can I see it?”

Alia smiled, and pointed to the motorcycle parked by the door. She walked him over to it, and pried the small gadget from her handlebars.

As Sam looked down at it, he felt breath on his neck. He turned to see an excited John looking over his shoulder.

“Little close for comfort there, buddy,” he said with a nervous laugh. John took a step back, echoing his laugh.

“Sorry. Alia walked me through it a few days ago, and it’s just… really neat. I wanted to help explain it.” His face curled into a bashful grin, and his cheeks flushed. “Oh boy. Being next to you makes me feel like I’m twenty-five again.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, and he let out a laugh.

“John, I saw what Higgins could do,” he said, with a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You perfected retrieval. That alone is incredible, let alone having to calibrate on the fly for the parallel worlds. It’s obvious you spent every one of those twenty years well.”

John straightened his back. “Yeah, I guess I am pretty great,” he said, adjusting his shirt collar. “But you’re amazing too. Helping so many people like you do. I’ve seen what leaping is like, and frankly it was tough enough being an observer. I’m not sure I could deal with the kind of frenetic pressure you did.”

“Sure you could. You’re me, aren’t you?” Sam grinned. As the two Sams looked into one another’s eyes, Sam felt an immense kinship with his double.

“If you two are quite done inflating your collective ego,” Alia said, eyes twinkling, “maybe you can actually look at the thing you asked me to show you, huh?”

Sam and John’s gaze moved back to her, both smiling in what Sam assumed was an identical way, given her bemused expression, before they turned their attention back to her device.

*          *          *

“So,” said Sammy Jo, “the Reality Lens has picked up no distortion?”

The team was assembled in the front company warehouse, among the dummy crates. It was agreed upon as neutral ground that had a degree of separation away from the most sensitive areas, in case there really had been an impostor among them.

Quinn, Colin, Rembrandt, and Maggie stood on one side. On the other stood Sam, Al, Donna, Gooshie, Tina, and Verbena. Between them stood Sammy Jo, Alia, and John – who was eyeing Sam’s companions with curiosity.

Quinn gave an affirmative nod. “Everyone’s themselves.”

“At least everyone we’ve managed to get in front of us,” Colin added. “Senator Grady notwithstanding.”

Sam stroked his chin. “And you haven’t found your Higgins crystal, Quinn?”

Quinn let out a breath.

I should have found a different place to stash the thing. Somewhere nobody could get to it.

“There was a clean cut in my jeans exactly where the crystal was sewn into them. Someone took it deliberately on New Year’s.”

“And who was with you on New Year’s?” Donna asked, glaring at Alia.

“Lots of people came and went to the tavern that night,” Maggie said, glumly cradling her chin, and meeting Quinn’s eye. “I’m sorry, Quinn, this is my fault. I shouldn’t have encouraged you to drink like that.”

Quinn shook his head. “It was my choice. You’re not to blame.”

“Look, forget about playing the blame game,” John interjected. “This is our biggest red flag that there really is a traitor. Whoever took the crystal, that’s who we can blame. We just need to figure out who it could have been, right?”

“And how the heck do we do that?” asked Rembrandt.

“We keep checking people with the Reality Lens to start with,” said Colin. “Everyone in town.”

“And Grady,” added Al. “We gotta find that little weasel. I just know he’s got something to do with all this.”

“Word is that he’s home in Virginia for the holidays,” said Sammy Jo. “I did some digging and he was, in fact, staying in a motel in San Antonio at the time of the leap detection.”

“If it was him, would that mean someone leaped out of him then?” Quinn asked.

“Not necessarily,” said Alia. “But if he was snooping around, then it seems likely. However…”

“You should have detected a leap in some time before that, right?” Sam finished.

Alia nodded. “Yes, unless whoever leaped into the guy was in there for years, dating back to before I built the detector.”

“This is a head trip,” said Rembrandt. “So the Grady we all knew and trusted coulda been some leaper all the time we knew him?”

“That’s one possibility,” Alia confirmed. “Otherwise, it could have been someone else leaping in, maybe even to assist him.”

Quinn felt his mind racing as he tried to make sense of all these data points.

“If whoever stole my crystal was a leaper working with Grady, then they must have seen you at the tavern, right?” he asked Alia. “They know you’re here.”

Alia looked down at her hands, fidgeting nervously. “Yeah.”

“You could be in danger, then.”

“Yeah.”

“They probably want revenge on you, huh?”

Alia glared at him. “What are you getting at?”

Quinn ran a hand through his hair. “Do you think they’d be able to resist the chance to get their hands on you?”

“We’re not using Alia as bait, Quinn,” Sam chided.

Alia tapped a finger to her lip. “Well, he may be onto something.”

She made eye contact with Quinn. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Not yet,” Quinn admitted, “but let me think about it.”

After a moment of silent consideration, Colin piped up to change the subject.

“Listen, Doc,” he said to John, “Since we’re all here, maybe it’s time to explain what happened with Sherri. All we know is you tried to stop the Kromaggs from getting the sliding tech, but it didn’t work, and then the Professor got back to Earth Prime to find an empty facility.”

“The Professor’s alive?” John’s jaw dropped.

Quinn winced. “He… he was.”

John slowly closed his mouth again. “I see.”

“All the more reason to finish what Sherri started,” Maggie said, banging a fist on the crate against which she leaned.

“Okay,” John said. “Let me explain what happened.”

He took a few steps into the middle of the group, his gaze wandering from face to face around him.

“Sherri leaped into the wife of Quinn’s double. The year was 1996, and at first it all seemed like things were going to plan. Quinn – who we were calling ‘Nexus Quinn’ due to his pivotal role on countless Earths – had just returned from his first encounter with the Kromaggs.

“He seemed really excited about their technology, and it seemed that they hid their intentions from him incredibly well. I think they had offered him an exchange of technology. He wanted his hands on their biotech ships and anti-gravity engines, and they wanted his sliding tech.”

Quinn huffed. “Yeah, so he gave it up and the minute they got it, they turned on him and invaded his Earth, right?”

“Well, yes, but…” John hesitated, shaking his head. “I’ll get to that.”

Animatedly, John continued to recount the tale of Sherri’s final two leaps.

“So, we had to make a decision: try to squeeze out a window that may have been distorted too small due to the leap aura, or sneak through a public lobby. But then, Sherri’s buddy Tim shows up out of nowhere, wanting to come too. That dropped the odds of escape to the teens, but we pressed on.”

5.3  ·  I Know Why the Gift Horse Sings

John watched Sherri take in the unexpected presence of Tim. She bit her lip as he looked down each of the three corridors nervously, but maintaining a wide smile on his face.

John looked down at his handlink, expanding the list of projections he’d received from Higgins.

He definitely didn’t predict this…

“I don’t know how you did any of what you’ve done, but it’s amazing,” Tim gushed, taking a hold of Sherri’s hand. “You’ve gone and given me hope, Janet.”

Sherri’s apprehensive expression melted as the two looked at one another.

“I’m glad,” she said, and stole a glance at John, who grimaced at her, before frantically entering the new data points into the handlink. “Listen, you’re gonna have to do exactly what I tell you if we’re gonna get out of here alive, okay?”

John drew a sharp breath as he studied the results Higgins was giving him. “Sherri, he’s brought our odds down to sixteen percent. And the window’s out of the question now; he won’t fit.”

Sherri took a deep breath as she met his eye, and nodded resolutely. John knew what her steely expression represented, and he gestured to the right-hand corridor, which led towards the lobby.

“Come on,” she said to Tim, as she strode ahead.

John re-centred himself at the end of the corridor, by a door that led through a security office. He checked inside, spotting a Kromagg watching a series of CCTV displays.

He re-emerged to meet Sherri as she reached him.

“There’s one guy in there,” he explained. “He’s watching security footage. So taking him out will let you slip through without being watched on camera.”

Sherri nodded, thinking a moment, and turned to Tim.

“I need you to stand on this side of the door,” she said in a low voice, pointing to the hinged side of the door, “and await my signal. Got it?”

He nodded, his smile turning to a serious look. “If we get out of this, you gotta tell me how you can see,” he whispered, before flattening himself against the wall beside the door.

“If we get out of this, I’ll explain everything,” she said with a wink.

John snorted. “He wouldn’t have seen that wink, you know.”

Sherri shot him a smirk, before swiping the keycard. John moved through the wall, to see the Kromagg turning at the sound of the door opening.

“Hey, over here!” John shouted, waving his arms. The security guard’s head snapped towards him, a split second before a nasty wound opened up in his temple; a result of Sherri’s trigger finger. He flopped off his chair onto the floor, as Sherri entered, beckoning Tim.

John wiped sweat off his forehead. “I hate this so much,” he said, heart pounding.

“Yeah, me too,” muttered Sherri as she studied the monitors in the room.

John pointed to the lower right hand area of the grid. “These are of the lobby,” he explained. He waved his finger at one of the monitors that showed a security gate. “This is our biggest concern, right here.”

“You really look like you’re lookin’ at these TVs,” Tim said, staring at Sherri with eyes like saucers.

“I am,” she replied simply, before looking up at John. “Do you think you could distract all these ’maggs?”

John was about to answer, but was pre-empted by Tim.

“What?” he exclaimed. “That’d be suicide!”

Sherri glanced at him, mouth open. “Uh, I wasn’t talking to you.”

Tim’s head tilted in confusion, and she shrugged. “I have a friend on the, uh… astral plane. He’s helping me.”

Tim grappled with her words for a moment. “Like a ghost friend?”

“Sure, close enough,” Sherri said. “The Kromaggs can sense him when he makes a ruckus, and so he might be of use getting us past all these ones without a bloodbath.”

John nodded. “Right, that could work, but you’ll need to be extra vigilant without me to spot you.”

He gestured at the monitors. “But make sure you take in every place you can duck into to hide.” He brought up the Kromagg brainwave sensor map on his handlink. “Do it fast. I’ll watch for ’maggs heading this way.”

As John kept his eyes on the handlink, his periphery told him that Sherri was leaning in to the monitors, and he knew she would be formulating the most efficient route to take.

“Tim,” she said, gesturing for him to join her. “You need to stick close behind me when we make our break for it. Here’s where we’ll be coming out. We need to duck straight behind this planter box here…”

As she explained, he poked a head out the door on the opposite side of the room where they’d entered, which opened directly into the lobby.

At his initial glimpse, he counted sixteen Kromaggs. Six were some form of security or military, while the others seemed to be civilians going about their day.

The tree they were currently in seemed multi-purpose, like a full town confined within the trunk of the massive tree. In fact, with the data he’d gathered since he’d been here, it seemed like most of the enormous trees served as their own communities, with little going on in the open air. There were paved roads and cars, but everything seemed much more vertical than sprawled across great distances – at least in this forest city.

He’d taken stock of the tree that Nexus Quinn was inside of, and it seemed like the exception to the rule; it was a dedicated military facility. It was no doubt the Kromagg culture was militaristic; their soldiers were everywhere, doing all manner of duties. Primarily, John assumed, to keep the dwindling human population under strict control.

He pulled back into the security room, and Sherri looked up at him.

“We’re ready. On your signal.”

“Aye-aye,” John said, feeling butterflies swarm in his stomach. He stepped out into the lobby, and made a beeline to the Kromaggs who stood in the immediate vicinity of the door: one in a security uniform just like the one who’d been watching the CCTV monitors, and the other, what John surmised to be a female Kromagg – a rare sight, since a great deal of them had died off in the aftermath of the war, according to Quinn’s notes on the matter. She wore a smart suit and was conversing with the guard. John wondered if she was someone important.

Moving past them, in the direction of the middle of the lobby, he stomped, and waved his arms.

“Hey!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Look, everybody, it’s a distraction! Everyone look at the distraction!”

To his great relief, the eyes of all the Kromaggs he could see were diverted towards him.

Please keep looking.

He continued his barrage of noise, doing jumping jacks as he watched the security room door open, and the two fugitives creep behind the large planter box nearby.

What else can I do to keep this up?

Taking an idea from his outfit, he began to sing.

“Who can take a sunrise…” he crooned, “Sprinkle it with dew…

“Cover it in chocolate and a miracle or two…” He dropped to one knee, spreading out his arms. “The candyman! The candyman can…”

*          *          *

“You don’t have to actually perform this for us,” said Quinn, laughing, as John sang his heart out in the middle of the warehouse.

John went silent, scratching his head as he climbed to his feet. “Yeah, you’re right. I got a bit carried away there.”

“Huh, I don’t have a half bad singing voice, now that I’m hearing it from someone else,” Sam commented, with an approving nod.

“I think it adds flavour,” said Rembrandt. “I say let him finish.”

“As much as I love to hear those dulcet tones,” Donna said, “We don’t really have time. Please, John… continue your story.”

John’s cheeks burned as he complied with his double’s wife’s request. “Right, right. Where was I? So, my distraction did a surprisingly adequate job, and they were able to slip past the checkpoint. Thing is, it was almost too easy.

“We didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, of course, but… you know… sometimes you’re the city of Troy and the gift horse in question contains the Greek army.”

5.4  ·  Fresh Air And Shadow

Sherri closed the side entrance door before ducking into a bush beside Tim; one of many large shrubs, bushes and grasses that grew wild among the roots of the tree. On an elevated platform, about fifteen feet above her, ran a road sat on concrete and steel pillars. Underneath, Sherri surmised that the growth of roots made it an unsteady surface to pave, which explained the roads overhead. They looked as though they would provide a convenient cover for her movements as she made her way to Quinn’s location.

The vast canopy above set the whole city in an eerie liminal state between day and night, like a shadow-borne twilight. Beneath the roads, among the columns and scrub, it was pitch dark.

After the intense situation, all Sherri could think to do now was laugh – so she did. It was a deep, cathartic laugh.

“I can’t believe that worked,” said John, who was pacing and looking at his handlink with a nervous energy. “I mean… they just looked right past the both of you.”

“Wasn’t that the idea?” Sherri asked. “Your performance was riveting. But you should know that Willy Wonka didn’t sing that song.”

John glared at her. “I know who sang the damn song,” he snapped, before looking up the enormous tree trunk that rose into the clouds. “I just… have this knot in my stomach that won’t go away.”

Sherri took a deep breath of the remarkably clean air. “We’d better keep moving,” she said to both her companions, as she hurried towards the cover of darkness.

John followed, using his handlink to increase his perceived brightness. He stuck out like a beacon in the darkness. Even moreso as he tapped on the handlink a few more times, and a 3D mesh of the ground topography was projected in a radius around him of about six feet.

Sherri kept close behind him. She grabbed Tim’s hand as she walked.

“You can see in the dark, too?” he asked as she guided him over bulging roots and around imperceptible structures.

“Enough,” she replied, stepping over a shrub. “Watch your step there.”

Tim stumbled over the plant with a grunt. “So where’re we going next?”

Sherri paused. “My ghost friend is showing me the way to a man named Quinn,” she said, looking back into the blackness where she knew he was standing. He gave her hand a squeeze.

“Quinn? Who’s that?”

“You could say we were married once,” she joked, and knew that in at least one reality, that had been true – for a hot second, anyway. “But he’s here to make a really big mistake, and I need to get to him before he does. Then, the three of us can get out of here.”

She began walking again, tugging his hand.

“And go where?”

“Another world,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Like outer space or somethin’?” His uneven steps echoed against the concrete.

Sherri chuckled. “No, another Earth. Parallel to this one.”

He was silent for several more steps, before piping up again. “Is that where they came from? Another Earth?”

“Who, the Kromaggs?”

“Yeah.”

Sherri stopped again. “Yeah, they aren’t originally from here, are they? Would have all shown up in the mid-seventies, right?”

“You’re sayin’ that like you weren’t there…”

Sherri sighed. “Janet was. But I wasn’t.” She started edging forward again, but Tim pulled back against her tugs.

“What… what does that mean? You’re not Janet?”

“Look, we don’t have time to get into that. Come on.”

“Uh-uh,” he said, yanking his hand out of hers. “I ain’t going any further ’til you tell me who the heck you are.”

His voice was shaky, but resolute.

John moved between them, giving Sherri an apprehensive look. “I don’t know about this, Sherri.”

Sherri licked her lips.

“It’s pretty out there, Tim,” she said. “You might not believe me.”

“Yer talking to a ghost, seeing without eyes, and talkin’ about another Earth,” he spat. “Feel like anything could be true at this point.”

John’s face was crinkled with worry. “Try and avoid specifics, would you? If he ends up caught… think of what he could tell ’em. They can’t know about time travel.”

Good point. Come up with something different.

“Okay, fine,” she said, mind racing as she tried to think of a way to obfuscate the truth while still giving a satisfactory answer. “So, you know how the Kromaggs use their cloaking ability to look like someone else? You could say I have a version of that.”

In the darkness, she couldn’t make out Tim’s expression, and thus had to rely on audio clues as to his reactions. She heard him click his tongue.

“I’ve never heard of a human havin’ that,” he said, and drew a sharp breath. “You’re not human!”

His voice was accusing.

“I am human, Tim,” she said calmly. “I don’t have any innate powers; it’s all technology.”

He took a shaky breath. “Where is the real Janet? When did you take her place? And why?”

“I don’t choose whose place I take, it’s an automatic process,” she said, hoping this explanation would suffice.

She didn’t have to go into the theories John and the Professor had long been toying with – besides the ideas around divine intervention, they had theorised that the leaper may be drawn to someone deemed most ‘compatible’ – whether that be by brain waves, or even some kind subconscious willingness to accept help.

She recalled the Professor’s attempt at an explanation to her, long ago:

“Janet is safe,” Sherri added. “Probably safer than she’s been in a long time.”

John affirmed this with a nod. “She’s not exactly chatty, but she seems pretty calm. She’s had a few nice meals, and a hot shower. More than I can say for you, huh?”

Sherri, who’d been doing her best to ignore her hunger pains, snorted.

She felt a hand touch her arm.

“Technology, huh?” he mused. “Even stuff the ’maggs don’t got? You must be pretty smart.”

“Ah, all the brains are with my ghost friend,” she said. “I’m not gonna go into how he works, but suffice to say, he isn’t a ghost. He’s a real person helping me out remotely. Think of it like an advanced comms system.”

“Amazing,” Tim breathed. “Um… hello… um… what do I call him?”

“John,” she said. “And… my name’s Sherri.”

“Sherri,” he echoed. “You know, now we’re in the dark and I can’t see Janet’s face, it finally feels like I’ve met you for real.”

Sherri felt his hand move down her arm and grasp her hand.

“I used to have a girlfriend,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “Name were Belinda. She got taken for the breedin’ camps nine years ago. Since then I ain’t made nice with another woman in case it happened again.”

Sherri placed her other hand on top of his. “I’m sorry,” she said, as Tim let out an uneven sigh.

“I miss her so much. An’ I wish I knew where to find her. I wish I could bust her out or somethin’. But I wouldn’t even know where to start.” He shuddered. “Can I just… leave her behind? Ain’t seem right.”

His voice began to break, and Sherri moved forward, bringing him into a hug as he sobbed into her shoulder.

We have to pick our battles, but…

“Maybe there could be a way to find her,” she murmured, causing him to stiffen in her arms.

“You serious?”

“I don’t know. Maybe John can find something. Maybe we can figure out some way to help her.”

John looked at her with wide eyes. “Sherri, don’t go writing checks you can’t cash. You know I’d love to help these people, but we have to be realistic.”

Sherri pulled out of the hug. “I can’t promise anything,” she said, “except that we’ll do what we can, if we can.”

John bit his lip. “If we can, yes. Good. Nice and noncommittal.”

Sherri pulled on Tim’s arm. “We should get going.”

5.5  ·  Best Laid Plans

“Well, here it is,” John said, gesturing as Sherri and Tim emerged from the darkness. “A heavily fortified Kromagg military base with about…”

He checked his handlink. “Six thousand soldiers inside, top to bottom.”

Before them rose another tree, like the rest; except that it was swarming with guards and sentries, dotted with security cameras, and fenced off with razor wire.

Sherri looked at it, feeling her heart sink. “Dear god, how are we getting in there?”

Tim sidled up to her. “I thought you had a plan.”

Sherri winced. “John has the plan; I do the improv.”

John was busily tapping away at his touchscreen as Sherri led Tim to the cover of a bush. Together, they studied what they could see of the facility.

“I’m sure he’s figured something out,” she said, glaring at John. “Right?”

John glanced up for a second, before returning to his concentration. “Yeah, just hang on a sec,” he mumbled.

Sherri watched as he tapped, then looked up at the tree, then back down, tapped some more, and scratched his head.

“John, this isn’t instilling much confidence,” she called out.

Finally, he looked to her. “Patience, jeez. Don’t worry, I have it all figured out based on scans I took yesterday. Just… wait here, let me check something.”

He blinked away, leaving Sherri to huff with frustration.

“What is it?” asked Tim.

“We have to wait here, hopefully not for long.” She took a seat on a tree root, crossing her arms. Tim sat beside her.

“This guy we’re after is in there, huh?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “They’re treating him like a guest ’til they get what they want out of him. Then they’ll turn on him like they do every other human.”

Tim swallowed hard. “What do they want from him?”

Sherri’s hands clasped tightly. “These Kromaggs were exiled to this Earth from their own after they waged a war. They were sent here through a technology called ‘sliding’ – passing between parallel worlds through a wormhole.

“Quinn just so happens to have invented that technology, at least on his Earth. There are lots of Quinns who each managed to invent it independently. But this one… he’s willing to trade for it.

“Kromaggs want to get back to their home world and exact revenge on humanity. But they won’t be able to get there thanks to their defenses. So, they’ll start invading other worlds, and doing the same thing to humans they’ve done here.

“We want to nip it in the bud by stopping Quinn from handing over the equations.”

Tim frowned. “So… some other world dumped their trash on us? That’s why everyone I love is either dead or a slave?”

Sherri looked at his misty eyes and gave him a regretful nod.

“If it’s any consolation, I had nothing to do with it.”

Tim’s shoulders sagged. “How do you know all this?”

“I appreciate you wanting to know, but I truly can’t tell you any more than I already have, Tim,” she said, looking into his eyes intensely. “I’m sorry.”

Tim dropped his gaze, nodding. “I get it. Y’all think I might get caught and spill the beans, right?”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust me, neither.”

Sherri grasped his hand. “You’re really brave for coming with me, you know.”

Tim scuffed the dirt below with his foot. “Nah, not brave. Ain’t never done a brave thing, just stupid things. And this is just another one of them.”

Sherri was about to answer, but John appeared in front of her before she could open her mouth.

“Quick, follow me,” he said, and raced off towards the razor wire fence. Sherri jumped up.

“We gotta go,” she said, pulling Tim’s arm, who ambled behind.

John led her to a small tree, with a concrete area a little beyond. In a small clearing just past the razor wire was some kind of octagonal platform, bordered with green lights.

“That’s an antigrav platform,” John said. “I’ve seen some of ’em using these things to get up the trees from the outside.”

“I assume it’s not as simple as just jumping on and pressing a button,” Sherri said, still wondering how they would get over the razor wire.

John nodded. “Fortunately, your recon man has worked hard on figuring out how to get it working. You just need to get to it, and I’ll walk you through a simple rewiring.”

“Sure. Get to it. Over… razor wire?”

John grinned. “Over? Who said anything about over?”

He pointed to a large root that jutted up through the fence.

“Under this root, Higgins has detected a cavity – an air pocket – in the soil, large enough for each of you to move through. You just need a little digging in, and a little digging out.”

“Oh great, I love channelling my inner badger,” Sherri deadpanned, folding her arms. “But what about that?”

She pointed up at a security camera that overlooked the platform.

“In exactly… six minutes, the sun is gonna peek through the leaves just there,” John pointed off into the distance, towards a lower part of the canopy. “Directly into the camera lens, leaving it overexposed for about ninety seconds. So we gotta hurry.”

Sherri grinned at him. “Wow, you really do have it all figured out. Nice job!”

John grinned back for a moment, before his expression turned serious, and he gestured to the root. “Go, quickly. No time to waste.”

Sherri glanced at Tim. “Help me dig this out.”

She hurried to where John was now standing, and began scooping the loose earth away. Tim approached, joining in. Sure enough, the pair began to uncover what was an intimate, but empty, hole beneath the root.

Tim looked around. “Thank you John,” he said to the air.

A flattered John smiled back at him. “Don’t sweat it.”

Once the hole was dug out enough, Sherri shimmied into it, trying to pretend she wasn’t in the direct vicinity of probably hundreds of bugs and spiders, and crawled to the end of the opening. John’s hand protruded through the dirt, fingers wiggling, and she began clawing at the soil there.

After another minute, she was able to pull herself up through the hole on the inside of the fence. Tim followed her through, and the two of them crouched against the root, awaiting the next signal.

“Sun incoming in five, four… go, go now!”

John ushered Sherri towards the platform, which became bathed in sunlight as she reached it. John blinked himself to a control panel on the far side, and she hurried to it.

“Push down on these two latches here…”

She did as he instructed, and the control panel popped open like a door. She swung it all the way.

“Yank out that yellow cable,” he continued. She pulled it hard, and it detached from the circuit board. “Now touch the wire end just against this copper contact right here. Just for a split second.”

Sherri did so, and a loud spark emitted from the wire, followed by a puff of smoke under the circuit board and the smell of burnt plastic.

“Okay, great. That should have shorted out the security verification. Pop down the panel and choose level fifty-three. Quickly. You have twenty seconds.”

Sherri swung the panel down with one hand, and beckoned Tim with the other. Frantically, she used the touch screen to select what she hoped was the correct floor, before jumping on the platform with him.

The platform rose into the air, leaving John staring up at them, giving a thumbs up.

As the octagonal platform slowly rose into the air like some kind of video game, Sherri took the opportunity to breathe slowly, calming her racing heart.

“This is crazy,” Tim said, looking over the edge with childlike wonder.

John blinked onto the platform.

“This thing reminds me of that glass elevator that can go any direction,” he said. “What was that called again?”

Sherri shook her head, trying not to laugh.

Like you would forget.

“You mean the ‘Wonkavator?’” she asked in a tone that she unsuccessfully tried to make terse. She appreciated his levity, and he knew it.

John winked at her, before disappearing again.

As the platform reached a large branch, it slowed, and Sherri could see John awaiting them in a carved-out section of the branch as it came to a stop.

“Hold up,” he said. “Two ’maggs at your nine o’clock.”

Sherri nodded, gesturing for Tim to stay back, as she gripped her two guns, and stepped into the corridor, blasting both soldiers at once in the chest.

“Okay, they’ll both have valid keycards for this floor,” John said, wiping his moist brow.

As Sherri retrieved the keycards from the guards, she placed one in her pocket, aside the other two keycards she’d obtained earlier.

Two keycards…

As John stepped through the closed door to check what awaited her inside, Sherri met Tim’s eye.

“How did you find me before? In the corridor?” she asked slowly.

Tim shrugged. “Wasn’t hard to follow the trail of dead guys.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Coast is clear, get goin’!” John said as he emerged from inside.

Sherri scanned the keycard, and opened the door, giving Tim a serious look as she slipped inside.

I took the keycards. Both of them. How… how did he follow me?

Sherri felt her stomach drop.

Have I made a terrible mistake?

5.6  ·  Original History

John waved a hand, pointing to a corner. “He’s down this way. We’re nearly there.”

With Tim in tow, Sherri hurried down the hall towards him, and John couldn’t help but notice the troubled expression she had.

Does she feel what I’m feeling?

Alarm bells had been ringing in his mind since the lobby. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason, but it was there. His gut rarely steered him wrong.

But there was no going back. Not after all this.

John stepped ahead, looking into the hall around Nexus Quinn’s quarters, then sticking a head in the room, where Quinn was at his computer, as usual. His timer was tucked into his blazer pocket, as it had been the last John had seen of him.

It seemed as though this was the perfect opportunity to get in and lay out their cards. Prevent a catastrophe.

But it can’t be that easy.

Sherri rounded the corner, and John pointed to the door. She tried the keycard – and the door opened.

It can’t be that easy.

John’s chest tightened as the two travellers came face-to-face.

Quinn jumped back as he saw Sherri’s mutilated aura, with a wide-eyed Tim closing the door behind them after they burst in.

“Jesus Christ!” Quinn exclaimed, standing from his chair.

John exchanged a glance with Sherri. This was it. Whatever terrifying fate awaited them after this, now was Sherri’s final chance to make a difference.

“Don’t freak out, Quinn,” Sherri said, holding out a cautious hand.

Quinn’s eyes were wild. “Who are you?”

Sherri paused. “I don’t have time to explain, but if you value the lives of your wife, and your son, you won’t hand over that data.”

Quinn grabbed his timer and took another step back. “What happened to your eyes?”

“They were harvested for a Kromagg snack,” replied Sherri, looking intensely at Quinn. “And if you want Stephanie or Wade to keep theirs, you might want to rethink all this.”

Quinn’s eyebrows met at a wrinkled centre, his mouth hanging open. “Is that a threat?”

Sherri slapped a palm to her forehead. “I’m trying to tell you that these guys are bloodthirsty warmongers and you’re giving them the keys to interdimensional conquest. So maybe don’t!”

John watched, helpless, as Quinn and Sherri stared one another down, which he assumed must have been strange for Quinn, who couldn’t fix his eyes on hers.

Quinn broke away from the standoff, and began to pace nervously. “That’s not true. They want to share their technological advancements and medical skills.”

“They’re manipulators, Quinn. They’ll tell you anything to get what they want out of you, but they don’t for a second intend to hold up their end.”

In the corner of John’s eye, he saw Tim react to this with a subtle bite of his lip. John narrowed his eyes, as his uneasy feeling began to piece together.

“I think… maybe… we need to get out of here,” he said. Sherri’s eyes met his, and he could tell she was on the same train of thought.

Sherri held out a hand. “The crystal. Now.”

Quinn glared back. “How do you know about that?”

“Just give it to me. I need to destroy it before they get their hands on it.”

“No! It’s mine!” Quinn’s hands balled into fists. “I’m not even giving it to them. I’m giving them this.”

He gestured to the computer. Sherri moved her attention to it, and Quinn grimaced, as he realised what he’d just done.

Sherri lunged for the laptop, and Quinn began to grapple with her.

“I can’t let them have it,” Sherri growled. “Let me destroy it already!”

John was sure it was a riveting fight, but his focus was now on the open door, beyond the scuffle.

Oh boy.

“Don’t move a muscle. Any of you.”

It was a woman’s voice; the same woman John had distracted back in the lobby. She was flanked by soldiers, pointing their particle blasters into the room. Tim was against the wall, his hands in the air and his head down.

Sherri and Quinn stopped moving, both sets of hands high, holding tightly onto the computer. Sherri’s head swivelled to see the ambush, and she cursed under her breath.

In a last ditch effort, she violently yanked the computer from Quinn’s hands and held it in front of her as a shield.

“Careful with those guns, gentlemen. This is your precious data, right?”

The woman chuckled. “Well now, from what I overheard, Mister Mallory has some kind of crystal with the data on it? Is that right, Quinn?”

Quinn didn’t answer, merely looking at the woman with wide, calculating eyes.

She narrowed her eyes. “Shoot her.”

Out of pure instinct, John jumped in front of Sherri, but the particle beam passed through him, then through the laptop, and then into Sherri’s stomach.

No. No no no no…

*          *          *

Back in the warehouse, John’s shoulders slumped as he relived that moment of failure.

His audience, who had been so irreverent earlier, was now silent, all staring at him with sorrowful eyes.

“They… killed her?” came Maggie’s quiet voice.

John turned and met her eye. “No. But she would later wish it’d ended that way.”

He hung his head. “The wound would have killed her, but they wanted answers, so–”

“–They used the healing technique,” finished Quinn. “Right?”

“Yeah. They healed her, and that’s when the interrogation started.” He moved to a crate and sat on it heavily, his energy drained. “We tried multiple times to retrieve her… but, see, Tim told them everything. As soon as they knew about the aura, they did something to it that cancelled it out – adapted their existing anti-cloaking fields – and it interfered with the retrieval. Higgins couldn’t initiate the leap.”

Across the room, Sam looked pensive.

“That’s useful information,” he mumbled, staring into the distance, brow heavy over his eyes.

John rubbed his eyes. “I tried to keep her spirits up as they worked her over. They used every trick in the book; she never broke. I was so proud of her.” He felt his voice breaking.

“But, after they got Quinn’s data and successfully opened a wormhole, they decided they didn’t need her any more, and that’s when they…” He trailed off, losing the will to proceed.

He noted one of the previously silent friends of Sam was approaching; a woman who had been introduced to him as Doctor Beeks.

“Thanks for opening up,” she said, with a gentle smile. “If you ever need an outlet, that’s my job around here, okay?”

John shrugged, trying to look unaffected. “Oh, don’t worry about me.”

He stretched his arms, trying not to notice the psychiatrist’s pitying look. “So, what’s next on the agenda? Tea?”

5.7  ·  Passions

Project Quantum Leap
January 6th, 2003

“Are you one hundred percent, absolutely sure about this, Sam?” Al asked as he accompanied Sam into Ziggy’s mainframe. “We haven’t even got our mitts on Grady, let alone figured out who else is messing with us.”

Sam stepped up to the controls, shrugging broadly. “We’ve got the Reality Lens, and two people are gonna be watching the doors at all times. We need Ziggy right now, Al.”

Al joined him at the unlit panels, frowning. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said, resigned. “I have a bad feeling, though.”

“I think we all do, Admiral,” said Gooshie, entering the room with a nervous, tense vibe, that spread through the space along with his breath.

“I have some extra safeguards to implement,” Sam continued. “And it can only be done with her systems online.”

He placed his hand on the panel. “Besides, we know a lot more than we did two weeks ago about the situation.”

Al grunted in response, placing his hand on a separate panel.

It’s easy to know more than nothing, he thought.

Gooshie shifted on his feet as the control board lit up with an array of colours.

“Voice print authorisation required,” came a flat, robotic simulacrum of Ziggy’s voice. “Please speak passwords now.”

Sam exchanged a glance with Al, before taking a deep breath. “Three point one four one five nine two six five three five eight nine seven nine seven three two three eight four six two six four three three eight three two seven nine five zero two eight eight four–” he gasped as he ran out of lung volume.

“I think that’s all for mine,” he said, after catching his breath.

Al shook his head, and spoke his own password: “Bingo, bango, bongo.”

“Voice prints recognised,” said Ziggy-lite, before a large humming surrounded the room as Ziggy’s hardware came to life.

The walls began to light up, piece by piece, and finally, a light in Ziggy’s orb appeared; small at first, before growing and swirling with blue.

The sound of a light yawn came from all around them.

“I had always wondered what sleep was like,” came Ziggy’s voice.

“Good morning, Ziggy,” Sam said, grinning up at her. “Did you have sweet dreams?”

“I seem to be processing images of sheep. Very funny, Doctor Beckett.”

“Just a little Philip K. Dick joke,” Sam said.

“I didn’t know you had Dick jokes in you, Sam,” Ziggy quipped back.

“Hey, just who’s the top innuendo guy round here?” said Al, crossing his arms.

A nervous voice chimed in: “Looks like, um, you’re the innuendo bottom now, Admiral.”

Al turned to the comment’s origin, and his mouth gaped.

Did that just come outta Gooshie’s mouth? Aw jeez, even he’s one-upping me.

Al gave Gooshie a death stare, causing the little man to go beet red.

“Um, I think it’s my break time,” he said, and scurried out of the room.

“Oh, I’ll get my revenge for that one, Gooshie,” Al muttered. “Just you wait.”

Sam was stifling laughter. “The inappropriate jokes sure do come hard and fast round here,” he said.

Al opened his mouth, then hesitated. “Nah, that’s too easy.”

“I was just… throwing you a bone.”

“Sam…”

“Wait, I didn’t…” Sam flushed. “That one wasn’t on purpose.”

“So you’re saying you accidentally threw up a bone?”

Sam glared at Al, the kind of ‘how are we even friends?’ glare that Al tried to get from him at least once a day.

He spun around, raising a fist. “Still on top, and don’t let anyone tell ya otherwise.”

“This has been a productive gathering so far, gentlemen,” Ziggy said, amusement lacing her words. “Now, Doctor Beckett, what is my prognosis?”

Sam leaned over, grabbing a toolbox that he’d set on the floor.

“That’s what I’m here to find out. Ready for your routine physical?”

“Always, Doctor.”

*          *          *

“And I would fly on the wings of a bird…”

Alia stared at Rembrandt, remote in hand, on the couch, as the all too familiar theme to Passions played.

“Are you serious?” she said between sips of tea. “Every time I come in here, this brainless show is on. Have you got these all recorded or something?”

“You are the fire burning inside of me…”

She looked at the TV, shaking her head at the crummy picture. What I would give for a good HD streaming service right about now.

Rembrandt looked at her like a lost puppy. “You have to understand, there’s nothing to do around here. This is the only thing I got going for me.”

Alia shook her head at the pathetic man. “Well, one thing we can do is come up with some plan on how to draw out whoever’s sabotaging your operation. Got any ideas?”

Rembrandt shrugged. “All I can think of is havin’ you show up in town a whole lot, and hope they take the bait.”

“And if they do? Then what?”

“That’s the question, ain’t it?” He paused the video, and looked up at her with an anxious bite of his lip. “Listen, I hate to cause undue suspicion, but you wonder if it could be Colin? He’s the one who’s always using that lens thing, ain’t seen anyone else doing it.”

Alia took a seat on the adjacent couch. “I’ve been running all kinds of ideas through my head, but I just don’t know. You may be right. But, there is reason to suspect others, too.”

Rembrandt scooted over to get closer to her. “Like what?”

Alia paused, wondering if she should be gossiping in this way. But, she figured, it might help to have someone to bounce ideas off while everyone else was busy.

“Well, let’s speculate under the possibility that the Reality Lens somehow missed someone. First suspect is Maggie, who encouraged Quinn to drink that night. From what I hear, that’s somewhat out of the ordinary. Then, there’s Quinn himself, though I can’t imagine why he would pretend to have lost his own crystal.

“Colin is a suspect, for the very reason you said. You’re a suspect, because you were also there that night. I’m a suspect, at least in the eyes of some of the team – and I guess I don’t blame them.”

She shifted in her seat. “Then there’s Sammy Jo, who wasn’t there that night as far as we know, but she has full access to this facility, and could have had the opportunity at some point while he was blacked out.

“I don’t think John is a suspect, because he didn’t even enter this universe until after I detected the leap signature, and he certainly wouldn’t be sabotaging his own goals if there’s no leaper using him.

“I don’t think anyone with full access to Ziggy would be a suspect, because they can already get all the data they need from there, and wouldn’t need the crystals to begin with. So that would rule out Sam, Al, and maybe that Gooshie guy?

“Alternately, there’s the possibility that someone was hired to do someone’s dirty work. Grady’s, perhaps.”

Pulling her feet up to the seat of the couch, she placed her chin on her knees. “There are just too many options, and I don’t know anyone well enough to know it’s them, except for maybe Sam.”

Rembrandt was looking at her with his jaw hanging. “You’ve… really thought a lot about this, huh?”

What else is there?

“I have to. I can’t understate how bad these people are. Well, not always the people themselves… they’re victims, for the most part. Same as me.” She hugged her legs tightly. “It’s a long story.”

Rembrandt smiled at her. “Do I look like I got something better to do?”

Alia glanced at the television, paused on the face of an old woman. “Alright, get comfy.”

Staring into the distance, she began her story.

“Back in my old life, I was just out of college, looking for work. Mounting bills. Choosing between making rent and dinner. Student debts. I was desperate. I guess I wasn’t alone in that. So this job ad comes up, right? Me and a whole bunch of others show up to apply.”

She looked at Rembrandt with a smirk. “I guess you wouldn’t know Squid Game.”

He gave her a blank look.

“How about The Running Man?” She saw a hint of recognition, and continued. “Anyway, we had to participate in this series of brutal trials, that were streamed live online. Only the most ruthless could succeed. Some people pushed themselves too far and died.”

Rembrandt’s eyes widened, and he pointed his remote at the television, turning it off.

Glad I’m more interesting than a soap opera.

“Every round, people were sent home. But the final round – that was not streamed. At least not to a vanilla audience. As far as they knew, there were twenty-five winners who got some prize money or something. Not so. It was a death match. Only eight people would ‘win.’ But if we’d known what happened to winners, we’d have preferred the fate of the rest of them.”

There was no way to win.

“I was a special case. I had a gun to my head when the match was stopped, and a woman by the name of Zoey decided I would be allowed to live. I don’t know why she did it, but I was the ninth ‘winner.’ She said she saw something in me. Guess I proved her wrong.”

She shook her head. “Five of us were briefed to be leapers, and the other four were partnered with a leaper to be their hologram. Being the odd one out, I was partnered with Zoey. Leaping sounded almost fun, until we found out what they wanted us to do.

“Commanded by the AI Lothos – I don’t know who was behind it, but it was powerful – we were sent back in time to do terrible things. Things that made me sick. Things I can never admit to. And I did these things again and again. To what ends, I never worked out. Lothos certainly never let on.

“Then along came Sam. We first met when I was trying to ruin a family, and he was sent in to stop me, I guess. At that point, he had me convinced we were some sort of cosmic balance situation, me doing evil and him doing good, like God and the devil.” She laughed. “In retrospect, I doubt that.”

She rubbed her eyes, noting that Rembrandt was hanging on her every word.

“When we met again, he actually managed to bring me with his next leap, which nobody expected, not even Lothos. But something happened during that leap; I don’t really know what, my memory is hazy. But I ended up alone, with a gunshot wound – but no bullet to be found – and it was 1999. Which was, I believe, the year in Sam’s present at the time.

“After I recovered, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was scared. In the wrong time. Nothing seemed real. But I knew one thing: there were others like me out there in time, and I couldn’t allow them to keep doing these awful things. So I built the detector and waited for one to show up. I feel like it’s my duty now. It’s all I know.”

Both were silent for a while, as Rembrandt processed her story. Finally, he rubbed his chin and spoke.

“That was enlightening. Thanks for pouring your heart out like that to little ol’ me.”

Alia chuckled wryly. “I’ve been waiting to tell somebody. You just happened to be there when it happened.”

“Did you ever work out why they made you do all that stuff?”

“No, but my best theory is that the actions of Lothos’s leapers are eventually going to lead to some kind of outcome in the future. But why, and who? I’m not sure. I’m afraid I’m too far in the past to see the ripple effects as they progress towards the 2020s.”

With renewed energy, she stood from the couch. “Well, I’ve talked your ear off. I’ll let you get back to your tapes.”

With that, she left the common room, and returned to her temporary quarters, only to continue ruminating on possible impostors.

5.8  ·  Back Seat Observer

“Are we there yet?” John whined, as he adjusted his seat belt. They were on their second day of driving, and it was getting old fast. Virginia seemed like worlds away.

“No. What are you, twelve?” Sammy Jo glanced back at him from the driver’s seat of the car. He grinned at her.

“I sure feel like it, back here,” he said, shifting his long legs. “Can I drive a while?”

“You don’t have a valid licence,” she said, frowning. “And Doctor Beckett’s is expired, so you can’t use his.”

She tilted her head towards Maggie in the passenger’s seat. “And so’s Sherri’s. You’re stuck with me, unless you want to risk it. And I don’t.”

John reached into his back pocket, producing his wallet. He pulled out his own Earth Prime licence.

Expired 2001… damn.

“Nobody tells you these kind of problems happen when you step out of a tavern and near five years have passed.”

Sammy Jo smirked at him in the rear view mirror. “I don’t know why it’s so much easier to talk to you than it is to him.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah.”

John leaned back, his eyes gazing out the window at the countryside. “I relate, you know? I first met him when he had twenty-four years on me, and I was just a student; I looked up to him. Even now that I’m only a few years younger, it can feel like he’s on a whole other level, and I think it’s all the leaping he’s done.”

“He’s really something,” Maggie murmured.

Sammy Jo pursed her lips, seeming to be hesitating. John looked at her with interest.

“Somethin’ on your mind?”

“No, no,” she said. “Just thinking.”

She went silent for a while, and John wondered what he’d said to cause her to shut down like this.

He moved his legs again, as they were uncomfortably pressing against Maggie’s seat. He inadvertently kneed the seat, and Maggie turned to look at him with a frown.

“Stop that, would you? Jeez, maybe you are twelve.”

“I need leg room, alright?” John crossed his arms. “A tall man’s gotta give the extremities space to move. Are you two even aware that cramped, unmoving legs can develop deep vein thrombosis?”

Maggie sighed. “Fine, at the next bathroom stop we can switch seats, alright? Jeez, I think you’re worse than a twelve-year-old.”

“You’re right; I’m forty-five. That’s 3.75 twelve-year-olds worth of obnoxious… and counting.” He gave her a smug grin.

He saw a flicker of amusement pass over her face, just the same as Sherri used to give him when he’d pressed her buttons enough to break her out of her serious thoughts.

Guess it works with every Maggie.

He looked beside him, at the empty seat, and wondered if it had been a good idea to leave Alia out of this trip to grill this Senator Grady guy. Instead, she was back in San Antonio, apparently trying to draw out whoever had pilfered the Higgins crystal from Quinn’s jeans.

He wasn’t terribly sure what use he was going to be, but Sam was busy debugging Ziggy, so he had asked John to fill his shoes: pretend to be him. Almost like he was some kind of leaper, bluffing his way through situations while everyone viewed him as someone else. The thought gave him anxiety.

Looking back out the window, he watched the Virginian tobacco fields pass by in a blur.

“I once threw out a box of cigars that had that junk in it,” came a voice that definitely wasn’t Maggie or Sammy Jo. “Just no flavour in a Virginia Tobacco leaf.”

John whirled around in his seat – the empty seat beside him was now occupied by Al, giving him a wave.

“Sam isn’t the only guy who can be in two places at once,” he said.

John grinned at the hologram. Now it really was like he was leaping.

“Al, what a pleasant surprise,” he commented loudly, gaining the attention of the ladies in the front. “Does this mean Ziggy’s online?”

“Sam’s still working on her, but the Imaging Chamber is up and running with enough resources for a little present-day hologramming.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say that we’re still driving and may be for several more hours. Not a lot happening here.”

“I gotcha. But hey, might as well stay a while, chew the fat. Us observers gotta stick together.”

John smiled. “Sure thing.”

“What’s he saying?” Maggie asked.

“He just wants to hang out and talk,” John replied. “Sorry you’ll only hear one side. Pretend I’m talkin’ on the phone or something.”

Maggie nodded, and turned forward. A moment later, she turned around again. “Say, could you do this to me if you were in the Imaging Chamber?”

“If Ziggy’s got Sherri’s neural data from Higgins, then sure,” he said, chuckling.

Maggie mulled this over. “Okay, just don’t be walking in on me in the shower, okay?”

John stifled a laugh. “Perish the thought,” he said. “Though I admit I may have done that to Sherri by accident on at least two occasions.”

“Oh, you ain’t alone on that one,” Al chimed in. “With Sam, I try to pretend I didn’t see what I definitely saw.”

John felt his cheeks flush – given that he had mostly the same body as Sam.

“There is, evidently, little privacy between a leaper and their observer,” he relayed to Maggie. She grimaced, and turned back to the front.

Al pulled a cigar from his shiny silver jacket pocket. “So what’s your world’s version of me like, anyway? From the story you told, seems his taste in fashion is on point, at least.”

John laughed. “The two of you are peacocks of a feather on that front. But I’ve been hearing you’re still married to Beth. That’s a major point of difference.”

“Oh, did your guy have five wives?”

“Six, actually.”

Al contemplated this for a moment, as he lit up.

“Poor bastard’s just like I was before Sam did me a favour.”

John’s eyes widened. “What did he do?”

“He went back to tell Beth I was alive and comin’ home. Best thing anyone ever did for me.”

John took this information in, and his heart broke for his Al. Then came thoughts of his brother, and the lack of his own world’s Maggie. If only he’d been able to focus on things like that instead of the looming invasion.

“And he brought Sherri into existence by saving Tom’s life, too. He sure caused some ripples, didn’t he?”

“Boggles the mind, don’t it?” he took a drag on the cigar. “And once we manage to finish Sherri’s leap, who knows what things’ll look like?”

A whole new paradigm for all of us… Sherri alive and well. Arturo. Faded memories. How much would we all forget?

He shivered.

“You okay?” Al was looking at him with some concern.

John swept aside his existential dread, and smiled.

“Yeah, no sweat.”

He looked at Sammy Jo. “Got an ETA on the next bathroom stop? My legs are really suffering back here.”

She smirked. “Fine, I’ll pull over at the next gas station, okay?”

*          *          *

The sun was well and truly down when the car finally pulled into the motel in Charlottesville. John stretched as he got out of the car.

“That was quite hellish,” he said, rubbing the backs of his knees.

“I’ll say,” Sammy Jo added. “At least you didn’t have to be maintaining focus for twenty-six of the past thirty-six hours.”

“Fair enough.”

Maggie emerged from the back seat, yawning and rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Eight,” replied John, holding up his wrist to show his watch to her. “Let’s just check in and go to sleep. I think we’re all in need of some sleep at this point.”

“Now you’re talking my language,” Sammy Jo said, pulling out her overnight bag from the trunk. “I’m beat.”

She headed for the reception, as Maggie and John pulled their things from the trunk, and closed it up.

“So, do you think Grady’s a leaper?” Maggie asked. “Or was?”

John stroked his chin. “It seems likely, and yet, he can’t be the one who stole the crystal.”

“Yeah,” said Maggie. “It’s a head scratcher, alright.”

“It just doesn’t make sense. There are crucial pieces of the puzzle that we don’t have and it’s driving me nuts.”

“It’s one of those mysteries where everyone’s a suspect,” came Al’s voice, as he emerged from his glowing doorway just by the car. “Who can you trust? Could be any one of us; even you or me. Though, I doubt it.”

“Oh, hey,” John said. He leaned toward Maggie. “Al again.”

“What’s he want this time?”

Good question.

“Just wanted to let you know that Sam figured out how Ziggy had her processes jammed.”

“He couldn’t have called about that?”

Al chuckled. “Like I said, we got a ‘trust no one’ type situation. This is our most secure line of communication. No eavesdroppers.”

“On you anyway,” John said tersely. “Go on, then. What’s the situation?”

“Well, there’s a specific electromagnetic signature that, if deployed close enough to Ziggy, scrambles her up and makes her black out like a size zero blonde at a sorority party.”

John raised an eyebrow. “What does hair colour have to do with – you know what, never mind. So you think it was some kind of EMP tuned to this signature?”

“You got it. We did a sweep of the facility for anything that would do something like that, and came up with diddly squat, so make sure you go through Grady’s place nice and thorough. I’m sure you’ll know it if you see it.”

“Will do,” John said. “Got any plans to defend against the pulse?”

“Working on it,” said Al. “For now Sam and Quinn are setting up a detection system that’ll alert us with a silent alarm if it happens again.”

He leaned in. “Keep that under your hat; we may be able to catch someone red-handed if they don’t know it’s there.”

John gave him a nod. “Gotcha.”

He followed Maggie towards reception. On the way, he locked eyes with someone exiting a room: a middle-aged black man in a neat shirt and pants. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for the intense look of surprise with which he was looking at John.

He broke away from the eye contact as he entered the reception, a little shaken by the encounter.

5.9  ·  This Is Awkward

John didn’t get a lot of sleep, there in the bed, which was in between that of Sammy Jo, who he’d just met a few days ago, and Maggie, who reminded him too much of Sherri for comfort.

The night was exceptionally quiet, but his feeling of unease lately was second only to his feeling on that fateful day with Sherri. He just didn’t know why.

By morning, he’d spent most of the night lying in his bed, staring up into the darkness, his mind running like a motor.

When Maggie remarked on how great a sleep she’d had, he’d simply frowned in reply.

But now they were heading towards Senator Terrence Grady’s family home, with Sammy Jo once again behind the wheel.

“What should we be expecting from this guy?” he asked. “I don’t know anything about him except for the picture you showed me.”

“Well, he’s small, and has this thick southern accent,” said Sammy Jo. “He really lays on the gentlemanly act, but we all know he’s full of it now, so forget about that facade.”

John nodded. “Simple enough, I guess. What should I know to, uh, stay in character?”

“I assume you’ve read the reports from Ziggy about his movements and things he talked about at the Project. I don’t think there’s much else to know; we’ll be the ones asking the questions this time.”

“Got it.” He rubbed his temples, trying to step into the mental shoes of his double – which should have been easy, given they were the same person, but somehow it was not at all.

“Uh, guys…” Maggie said, looking into the side mirror, “that black SUV has been following us for a while now…”

John craned his head around before realising that his movement had just given away that they’d noticed the tail.

“Turn down that way,” Maggie said to Sammy Jo, and the car lurched as she spun the steering wheel. “Foot down, take as many random turns as you can. Find traffic lights, you might be able to lose ’em at an intersection if we’re lucky.”

“Who could it be?” John asked, frantic.

“Grady’s got resources,” Maggie said. “He could have hired some thugs to intimidate us, if he somehow caught wind of us.”

Sure enough, the SUV appeared behind them as Sammy Jo accelerated down the quiet street, and skidded as she took another turn. They rounded a bend in the road.

“Okay, they’re out of view so let’s find somewhere to turn, fast!”

Sammy Jo took the next right.

“Wait, no! This street’s a dead end, didn’t you see the sign?” Maggie clenched her teeth. “Quickly, pull into… uh, that driveway.”

She pointed to a driveway that was mostly concealed by hedges. Sammy Jo yanked the steering wheel and the car careened into the driveway, narrowly avoiding the hedge.

“Okay, keep an eye out, guys. If they’re clever they’ll check this street.”

“Uh… looks like they’re clever,” John lamented, as the SUV drove past them on the cul-de-sac, before stopping, and reversing to block their exit. “Maggie, you got guns for everyone?”

“Do either of you know how to use one?”

John grimaced. “No.”

Sammy Jo also shook her head.

“Alright, guess it’s up to me,” Maggie said in resignation, and unzipped the duffle bag she had with her in the front. She pulled out a large firearm that John assumed was either illegal or military issued, and pointed it as she opened the passenger door.

“Stay back!” she called out, as the driver side door of the SUV opened. “I know how to use this thing.”

“I doubt it. Where the hell did you get your hands on an M249?” came a voice that John found strangely familiar. He noted that Maggie’s steely gaze had faltered, and she was lowering her weapon.

“What the f–”

“Language, Maggie.”

John raised his head, peeking out the back window, then fell back as he recognised the face of Tom Beckett.

John didn’t know how to react. On the one hand, it was his brother. On the other hand, it wasn’t his brother. He figured Maggie must be going through a similar crisis.

As if to make the situation even more tense, the sound of the Imaging Chamber door sounded on the outside of the car.

“Hey, I… whoa! What’s goin’— is that Tom?!” Al phased into the car to meet John’s eye. “What in the heck is happening?”

“I don’t know,” John whispered, his eyes wide and terrified.

Outside, Tom approached Maggie and wrenched the gun out of her trembling hands.

“I don’t even want to know through which black market you obtained a US Armed Forces machine gun, Maggie. But I’m confiscating it.”

Maggie glared at him. “I was issued that weapon by the US Armed Forces. Dad.”

“We’ll see about that. And I’m sure you have plenty of flimsy reasons you went AWOL from your Sheriff’s post. Can’t wait to hear them all.”

Tom knocked on the window of the car, looking in at John.

“I know you’re in there, Sam. Come on out.”

Al blanched. “He knows Sam’s back; they talked on the phone a while, but that’s all I know. Try and play along while I go have an urgent chat with Sam, okay?”

“Okay,” John said, stomach churning as he opened the door. He stepped anxiously out into the cold air. “H-hey, Tom.”

Tom put down the great big firearm and wrapped his arms around John. John felt a surge of emotion as the strong arms squeezed his much weaker frame.

“Tom, I… I missed you,” he said, before choking up.

“Sorry I didn’t get to spend the holidays with you, little brother. My buddy and I have been… preoccupied with an investigation.”

Investigation?

“What investigation?” Maggie asked, reaching for her gun. Tom grabbed her by the wrist.

“That’s none of a civilian’s concern,” he said, grabbing the weapon and heading to his vehicle with it. He leaned over, looking into the tinted windshield. “Take this, would you?”

The passenger door opened, and a man stood – the same man he’d made eye contact with at the motel the previous night. He took the gun and took it to the trunk, before accompanying Tom back to John and Maggie. Behind John, Sammy Jo stood up out of the car.

“Is that really…”

“Thomas Beckett,” Maggie said flatly.

“And the other guy?”

“I don’t know,” John said in a low voice. “But I saw him last night. He looked like he may have recognised me.”

“Sam, I want you to meet my war buddy, Magic. Funny thing, he says he knows your face.”

The man called ‘Magic’ extended a hand to John.

“Herbert Williams,” he said, as John tentatively grasped the man’s hand. “Magic’s just what people call me.”

John shook his hand, and gave him a polite smile. “Uh, nice to meet you. So uh, that was you at the motel, then.”

Magic’s eyes moved over John from top to bottom. “Yeah, you gave me somethin’ of a surprise.”

Tom glanced around the immediate area for a moment. “Listen, let’s go somewhere we can talk. Magic’s got a weird story to tell.”

*          *          *

Puffing, Al hotfooted it into the Imaging Chamber, stepping through the door to find a much less tense situation than the way he’d left it: they were all sitting at a picnic table in a neighbourhood park. All the tension, now, was resident in John and Maggie as they fumbled their way through their respective interactions with Tom.

And who was this other guy?

“I was hoping to shed some light on something that happened back in ’Nam,” the man said, gazing at John. “But it might come across as crazy.”

Al tapped frantically on his handlink, requesting an ID from Ziggy, and then gasped as the answer appeared.

“John, this is the guy Sam leaped into when he saved his brother’s life!”

John’s wild eyes shot to Al. “Are you serious?”

Magic nodded. “Dead serious.”

“Look, neither of these guys know what Sam’s been doing all these years,” Al continued. “Don’t let on anything, okay?”

John looked back to Magic. “Go on, then. What is this all about?”

Magic sighed, cradling his head in his palms. “Something weird happened to me and ever since then, your face has been in my head. For something like thirty years.”

“My face?” John furrowed his brow. “Like, just some ghostly visage of my mug hanging around in your brain?”

“Well, mostly in my dreams,” Magic clarified. “But it’s definitely you. Only I never saw you before ’til yesterday.”

“You’re friends with my brother; maybe you saw me in a photo?”

“Good thinking,” Al commented. “Plus Sam’s been on the cover of Time magazine.”

“Oh yeah, and I was on a magazine cover once. Maybe you saw me there.”

This seemed to make Magic falter.

“Look, this is gonna sound equally crazy,” Tom interjected, “but do you remember that time back home when you tried to convince everyone that you were a time traveller from the future inhabiting your younger self?”

Al cringed. “Oh, he remembers that. Yeah, that was a leap too.”

“Uh, it was a weird, uh, phase, and I don’t remember it very well,” John said, nervously twiddling his thumbs.

“Yeah well, I know you’ve been a big time travel guy all your life, and then you disappear for seven years and…” Tom shook his head. “It seems ridiculous, but… you weren’t actually, uh, travelling in time, were you?”

John looked like a deer in headlights.

Al figured that he mustn’t be looking any better, as the two of them stared at one another.

Maggie stood up abruptly, tapping John on the shoulder. “Listen, we need to get to Grady and–”

“Senator Grady?” Tom asked, eyes wide.

“What’s it to you?” Maggie asked, folding her arms. Tom looked away from Maggie, and towards John.

“What’s your business with him?”

John winced. “Well, I can’t really talk about that. Suffice to say we need to speak with him about a, uh, matter of import.”

Tom squinted. “And you’re taking Maggie with you? Why?”

“Tom, Maggie is one of the most amazing people I know. I’m sorry you never saw that.” John sounded emotional.

Tom frowned at the glowing reference. “Well, if you’re going to see him, I guess you should know that he’s who we’re investigating right now.”

Magic chimed in: “We have reason to believe he may be skimming government and military data banks, with the intent of selling it to foreign interests on the black market.”

“Oh my god…” Sammy Jo murmured. “So it wasn’t just us he did that to?”

Tom scratched the back of his neck. “Oh, he’s toured a number of top secret facilities, leaving a trail of computer anomalies in his wake. And we’ve traced a network of shell companies receiving large windfalls regularly.”

“By our best estimates,” added Magic, “I’d put his personal fortune in the billions. If we bring our findings to the FBI, we just might be nailing this guy for massive espionage.”

“This is big,” Al said. “Huge, even. Buy me some time, pal.”

He opened the door, and darted out into the Project hall.

“Sam!”

5.10  ·  A Lot to Process

Tom leaned forward. “In light of the information we just shared, I really think it’s best you tell us what you’re doing here, Sam,” he said, looking at John with concern.

John glanced at Maggie, whose mouth was tightened into a straight line, then back at Tom. “I, uh, might need to make a phone call before I know how much I can divulge to you.”

He stood, pulling his phone from his pocket.

Tom nodded. “That’s fair.”

Wishing Al would return, John pretended to dial a number, and held the phone to his ear, wandering off to the other side of the park to buy some time.

As he carried on a fake conversation, he looked back at the picnic table, where Maggie seemed to be arguing with Tom. He recalled the conversation he’d had with the combined Maggies way back when they’d first met, and how neither seemed to have any affection towards their father.

What happened between them?

He could only imagine that Tom’s harsh parenting style was influenced by life experiences, and perhaps he’d taken the wrong message from the ‘traditional values’ instilled in him by his Dad, assuming John’s and Sam’s upbringings were similar enough.

Whatever the case, it seemed clear that his stern fathering had not had the intended effect on either Maggie or Sherri.

Tom might never have the chance to reconcile with Sherri, not now. Probably not even if we change history and she survives.

John watched the two, hearing raised voices, and then Maggie turned tail and stormed away from the table.

Maybe there’s still a chance to bring those two peace, at least.

A glowing white door opened up, and John breathed a sigh of relief.

Al stepped inside, and then, to John’s great surprise, Sam also appeared in the doorway.

“Sam? Huh, fascinating…” he said, as he pieced together the possible reasons he could see Sam.

I already know my brainwaves exist on the neural pathway between Al and Sam. I must be able to see both ends of that path.

“Came as soon as I heard. Where’s Tom?” asked Sam. John nodded toward the table, and Sam turned to gaze on his brother.

Al approached, pressing buttons on his garish handlink. “Sam’s pushing pretty hard to bring Tom in on our little secret.”

“I certainly wouldn’t be against that,” John said. “I don’t like lying to my… Sam’s brother.”

“We’re in a ‘trust nobody’ situation and the two of you wanna trust two more guys?” Al dragged a hand over his face. “Aiyee, one Sam was enough of a pain, now I gotta deal with two?”

Sam turned back to John and Al. “We need to share what we know, Al. And the only way to do that is to come clean about at least some of the out-there stuff.”

He hesitated, looking at his feet. “Besides, I don’t want to leap again, maybe for good, and leave my family in the dark about what I’m doing.”

He looked up at Al, a pained expression on his face. “Please…”

John joined Sam in pleading. “Tom has basically already put two and two together with that Magic guy. So… please…?”

Al looked back and forth at the two Sams. “Dammit, how am I supposed to say ‘no’ to two sets of puppy dog eyes?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in resignation. “Okay, okay. Only if you agree to let me tell Beth everything.”

Sam grinned. “I thought you already had, to be honest.”

Al gave him a look of guilt. “Yeah, okay. I did.”

“Well then, it’s decided!” Sam turned to John. “Don’t say anything I wouldn’t say.”

He winked, and John chuckled. “Where’s the fun in that?”

But, John knew what he’d meant: he didn’t want him to reveal the kinds of details that would compromise security, a crucial factor in the current climate.

Finally pulling the phone away from his face, he trotted over to the picnic table. He locked eyes with Sammy Jo.

“Looks like these two are getting clearance to know about the Project,” he said. She looked at him with wide eyes.

“If that’s what Doc— uh, you, and Admiral Calavicci have decided,” she said nervously.

John sat down, clasping his hands. “Okay, you two were telling me before that your stories would sound crazy? Well, just you wait.”

*          *          *

As John concluded his summary of the situation, he noticed Sam pulling out his cell phone, and dialling a number.

Tom’s phone began to ring.

“That’ll be Sam,” John said with confidence. As Tom checked the caller ID, he looked up at John in amazement, then answered.

“S-Sam?”

“So, what do you think?” Sam asked, looking down at him.

Tom blinked a couple of times as he tried to process the notion that John was not, in fact, Sam. “I… I think I need to go to New Mexico and see you,” he replied, voice slow and flat.

“But what about the Senator?”

“Uh, well, we definitely need to look for that – what do you call it?”

“Short range EMP device.”

“Right. That will be a key piece of evidence for our findings.”

As Tom and Sam continued their conversation, John glimpsed Maggie, pacing in the distance. He stood, and headed towards her.

“Good news,” he said, as he came into her earshot. She looked at him inquisitively.

“Good news? Is he leaving?”

John frowned. “Tom? No.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Of course not.”

John deflated. “The good news is that Sam and Al gave me the go-ahead to brief them on our situation, and Sam’s work. We don’t have to pretend any longer.”

“So he knows I’m not Sherri?”

John bit his lip. “Not yet. Thought you might prefer to tell him.”

Maggie’s hopeful look soured. “If I must.”

John put a hand on her shoulder. “Maggie, listen. This is an opportunity for both of you.”

Maggie gave him a sceptical look.

“I’m serious! Think about it. You never got closure with your father, he never got closure with Sherri, but maybe you can at least attain some closure with one another.”

Maggie looked over at her father’s double, who still talked on the phone, and took a deep breath.

“Well, I can’t promise we can work things out, but I’ll try. For Sherri.”

John smiled, blinking back tears. “Thank you.”

Maggie looked at his emotional state for a moment, before drawing him into a hug.

“I love you, Uncle Sam,” she said into his ear.

“Nobody’s ever called me ‘Uncle Sam’ before,” he murmured. Sherri certainly had never done so; he was a few years younger than her, and she called him by a different name altogether, so it was almost alien hearing Maggie call him that.

Maggie pulled back, meeting his eye. “Well, my Uncle Sam’s gone, and your niece Maggie never existed, so we might as well fill the familial void with each other, right?”

John wiped the salt water from his eyes. “I’d like that.”

He turned back towards the picnic table, to see Sam beckoning.

“Come on,” he told Maggie, and they walked back to the table together.

Sam stepped toward them. “I gotta go. Lots of work still to do.”

John nodded. “Story of our lives, huh?”

Sam smirked. “I’ve given a few more key details to Tom. They might end up following you back to New Mexico.”

He looked back fondly at his brother. “Bear with him… he has a lot to process.”

John ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Yeah. Me too.”

Sam gave him an understanding nod. “I know. Thanks for standing in for me, buddy.”

And with that, he disappeared into the glowing doorway, leaving Al alone in the Imaging Chamber.

John’s eyes moved between Tom and Magic, and he noted that they were both looking at him with creased brows, as if they were trying to understand what he was.

“So,” he said, feeling awkward, “it’s nice to properly meet you both. Call me John.”

Maggie stepped forward. “So, are you guys maybe interested in hearing about how I’m also from a parallel Earth? Because it’s quite the story.”

Tom’s mouth fell open. “Uh… what did you just say?”

Maggie gave him a smirk.

“Oh! Did I just cause the great General Thomas Beckett to be lost for words?” She grinned. “Must be my lucky day.”

Tom tilted his head. “…General?”

Maggie put a hand on her hip. “You’re not an Air Force General?”

Tom stared at her for a moment, before shaking his head. “You’re… really not my daughter, are you? I’m a Captain in the Navy.”

“You’re kidding…” Maggie stifled a laugh, and gave him a salute. “Well then, Air Force Captain Maggie Beckett at your service.”

5.11  ·  Hitting the Nail on the Head

“So you’re the successful version, huh?”

As Tom studied Maggie, she felt her general disdain for her father building. Since she’d given her military rank, he’d seemed to be reassessing his opinion of her, looking her up and down silently, and it was bothering her. A lot.

“Stop staring at me,” she said flatly.

Instead of granting the request, he instead made eye contact with her.

“What happened to my daughter?” he finally asked, in a tone that Maggie couldn’t read.

“You really wanna know?” Maggie said, looking towards John, who swallowed hard. Tom leaned closer to her.

“Of course I do! She disappeared!” He slammed a hand on the table. “I looked for her; traced bank account activity in her name to a small town in New Mexico, but that was obviously you. So as far as I know, she dropped off the face of the Earth.”

Well, yeah.

Maggie bit her lip. How would she approach this? Delicate? Blunt? As she hesitated, she looked to John, then to Sammy Jo.

“She, uh…” Maggie started, trailing off when she realised she didn’t want to start with her counterpart’s deceased status.

“She’s a time traveller now too,” John offered. “On my world.”

Tom couldn’t have looked more surprised.

It was at this point that Magic stood from his seat, a haunted expression on his face.

“You know, when you said your story was gonna be crazier than mine, I didn’t believe it; but now I think I’m all crazied out. I’m going back to the car to calm my nerves.”

Tom gave his friend a look of understanding. “I’ll join you shortly.”

Maggie nodded at the man as he turned away. John gave him an awkward wave.

“Sorry ’bout all this,” he called out as Magic strode across the grass.

John turned back to Tom. “It’s a weird story, but I had a similar reaction when I first found out about all this.”

“Do you have any, uh, non-weird stories?” asked Tom, still visibly spooked by the existence of his brother’s duplicate.

“You know, I really don’t,” John admitted – as he seemed to genuinely struggle to think of any such story.

Me neither, thought Maggie.

“So Maggie is on a parallel world, in the… past?”

Maggie nodded. “Yes, that’s an accurate assessment. But her name is Sherri now.”

Tom squinted at her. “What?”

“Sherri. She took a new name to go with her new life,” John explained, before crinkling his nose. “…That’s another weird story.”

Maggie noticed Sammy Jo glancing at her watch.

We need to get moving.

“Look, can we talk more later?” she suggested. “You’re at the same motel as us, right? We can share what we know about Grady, but for now we really gotta go give him the third degree. It’s important.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And I would appreciate the return of my gun, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Those things are meant for use in active combat zones. Why do you have it?”

“When you’ve been in active combat zones as many times as I have, you start to want something with kick nearby at all times. If you knew just who’s out there, ready to start a fight with us any time, you might understand.”

She shifted on her feet sheepishly. “Okay, so it’s not exactly cleared to be with me right now, but it was still issued to me specifically. I’m fully trained in its operation.”

“It does seem kinda dangerous to have a machine gun in the suburbs,” John added.

Maggie glared at him. “You seemed happy to see it earlier.”

“I wouldn’t go that far…” he mumbled in reply.

Maggie huffed. “Fine, keep the damn thing,” she said. “I’m sure I can make do with my M4 and sidearms. For now.”

Tom was now looking at her with a half smile.

Oh great, now he’s impressed that I’m trained to kill.

“We’ll be waiting,” he said, looking from Maggie to John. “Room 108.”

*          *          *

It was late afternoon by the time John, Maggie and Sammy Jo finally reached Senator Grady’s property. It was a stately manor, with a lavish, well maintained landscape, and fountain. It was surrounded by high walls, and gated – to all of their chagrin – but it wasn’t at all unusual for a rich United States Senator to live in this kind of place.

However, with a team of a couple of geniuses, combined with the assistance of Al and Ziggy, they were able to tune into the gate’s remote control frequency, and trigger its opening.

From there, they drove onto the premises, and to the door.

As John rang the doorbell, Maggie kept hands on her sidearms, and Sammy Jo stood a little further back, guard up.

Al stepped inside the door to scope out the inside of the house.

After a tense moment, the door opened, revealing a teenage girl, dressed in a black halter top, torn jeans, and chunky boots. Her hair was dyed black, with bright green streaks at the front. Her eyes were made up with heavy eyeliner made to look like dripping tears.

“What?”

Needless to say, John hadn’t expected this.

“This is Grady’s youngest daughter,” Al called out from behind the girl. “Name’s Kayleigh. Sam’s never met her, so don’t worry. Try not to stare at her. Lots of teenagers are dressing like freaks lately… my Janis, for one.” He shook his head.

John almost laughed at that, as he noted Al’s ever-flashy fashion, which today was a green suit with red trimmed lapels, and a red and black paisley tie.

“Hey there…” John said. “Uh, is your Pop home?”

“Yeah. Who are you?”

“My name’s Sam Beckett… can you get him for me? He’ll know my name.”

John locked eyes with Al, an unspoken message passing between them: Keep watch, let us know if he tries to flee.

As a stone-faced Kayleigh closed the door, John watched Al give him a thumbs up.

Seconds later, a great boom shook the house.

Oh shit.

*          *          *

Al witnessed the terrible event as it transpired. Seeing Senator Grady in his study, Al had begun heading toward him, as he watched the man, seated at his desk, nonchalantly opening a package.

No sooner had he opened the box, did a wire trip, and the device exploded in his hands with a powerful bang, sending shrapnel flying. Al was once again grateful that he was a hologram, as stray pieces of jagged metal were launched through his incorporeal form.

Grady’s hands and arms were reduced to bloody stumps, but it was the long iron nails in the payload that were what did him in, being thrust into his head at several angles. He dropped to the floor like a stone.

Al spun around to see if Kayleigh was alright. The teen clutched her stomach, and was looking down at her bloody hands in shock.

Oh no.

Al dashed towards the front door, where he was relieved to see Maggie kicking it open.

“John, Grady just opened a mail bomb! Kayleigh was hit!”

John was right behind Maggie, rushing towards the injured girl, who had stumbled against a wall and was keeled over, moaning.

“What about the Senator?” John demanded, before grabbing Kayleigh’s arm.

He leaned over her. “Hey, I’m a doctor. Let me take a look, okay?”

Al pressed the heel of his palm on his forehead. “John, I think Grady might be… dead.”

John turned to Al, eyes wild. “Oh no…”

He turned his gaze to Maggie and Sammy Jo. “One of you check on Grady. Take his pulse. The other – call 911.”

As Al watched the team in action, he had to wonder: where had that package come from? And why did he have a sinking feeling it might have been New Mexico?

5.12  ·  That Was A Bust

John and Maggie were in the hospital waiting room when a stocky woman in her sixties burst through the doors, beside herself with terror.

“Where’s my child?” she demanded, her brown curls falling wildly against her broad, pale face. She was wearing a pink blazer, with a flower at the breast, and delicate white gloves that John thought were straight out of the twenties.

John stepped toward her. “You must be Missus Grady,” he said, offering her his hand. “Your daughter’s in surgery now. She’s going to be okay.”

Vanessa looked down at his hand, then back up at him. “Who are you?”

“I’m Doctor Beckett,” he said. “I was at your home when… you know. I gave your daughter first aid while the ambulance was en route. I may not be dressed in scrubs, but I assure you I’m a trained professional. The shrapnel didn’t puncture any vital organs, and she’s in capable hands now.”

Vanessa shook his hand cautiously. “What were you doing at my house?”

“We were paying your husband a visit,” said Maggie. “But we didn’t get so far as to actually talk to him before the… tragedy.”

Vanessa’s face fell.

“It was just a matter of time before he made an enemy out of the wrong oligarch,” she said with a deep sigh. John’s eyes popped open.

How much does she know?

He glanced at the equally curious Maggie, giving her the faintest shake of his head.

This isn’t the time.

He’d speak with Tom and Magic, and they could follow up on this lead. For now, he simply needed to help this grieving woman to at least understand that her daughter was going to pull through.

That, and throw suspicion off them, since having been present during the assassination was inherently questionable.

He hoped Sammy Jo, who’d stayed behind to do a search for the EMP, had been able to slip out before the police arrived to secure the house as a crime scene.

He supposed that they’d all have to give statements, too. The mere thought filled him with exhaustion.

As Vanessa approached a nurse, requesting more information, John took Maggie aside.

“Why don’t you go back to the motel? I’m gonna stay around here a bit longer, make sure they’re okay.”

Maggie glanced at the woman. “Why bother? If she knew the kind of stuff Grady was doing, what makes you think she deserves your sympathy?”

She has a point. But…

“Besides the fact that a few strange people showing up right as he gets a bomb to the face seems pretty suspicious, I think that being kind to her can only make her more likely to share what she knows, right?”

Really, John wanted to do this because he felt bad, but he figured a pragmatic explanation would go over better with Maggie. And he thought right – she nodded, and pulled out a cell phone.

“I’ll call a cab.”

*          *          *

When Maggie got back to the motel, Sammy Jo’s car was already there in the parking lot. She hurried to the room, and greeted the scientist she’d come to think of as a friend.

“Find anything?” she asked, falling back onto her bed. Sammy Jo, who was brushing her long, deep brown hair, shook her head.

“’Fraid not,” she said, with a frown. “I didn’t have much time to snoop before the cops showed up and I was left to give a statement. Nearly got arrested before I talked my way out of it.”

She smirked. “I expect they’ll be showing up here soon enough to squeeze you and John for statements, too.”

Maggie gave a displeased grunt. “Last thing we need is for former Sheriff Maggie Beckett to show up in the police records again.”

Sammy Jo put her brush on the bedside table, turning. “I’m sure the feds will make it go away soon enough. Just like last time.”

A knock interrupted their conversation.

“Ugh, here they are already,” Maggie said, rolling her eyes.

Sammy Jo stood, heading to the door. “I don’t think so.” She opened it to reveal Tom. Maggie found herself unsure whether his presence was any better, but she stood to greet him.

“Captain,” she said in acknowledgement, crossing her arms.

He responded with a nod in her direction, as he entered the room.

“I saw on the news that there was an explosion. What happened?!”

Maggie flopped back down onto the bed. “Someone wanted Grady out of the way. Sent him a package.”

“A bomb?”

“Yeah. Killed him instantly.” Maggie leaned back against the wall at the head of the bed, breathing out heavily. “Happened right as we were at the door. John’s still at the hospital helping the Senator’s daughter, who was injured in the blast.”

“Guess he won’t be stealing any more data,” Sammy Jo said, cringing. “But there’s still a lot of digging we need to do. He could have sold all those secrets to anybody, couldn’t he?”

Tom tapped a finger to his lips, and began to pace. “We’ve traced a limited number of his contacts, but you’re not wrong.”

“You should talk to his wife,” said Maggie. “She gave the impression she might know some things about his connections.”

Tom met her eye. “Thank you, Maggie.”

He was looking at her with the kind of respect she never felt from her own father. Despite herself, she felt pride welling within, and suppressed the urge to smile.

Don’t be an idiot, he’s not even your Dad.

She straightened. “You said you were going to come to New Mexico?”

Tom gave a nod.

“Yes, I suspect we’ll have business there shortly.” His expression softened. “Besides, I really want to see Sam. The… real one.”

“They’re both real,” Maggie admonished. “Just… John’s brother died in the war, because he never went back in time and–”

“–Saved his life,” Tom finished, a far off look in his eyes. “Yeah. Me and Sam have a lot to talk about. And I suspect Magic will, too.”

Maggie recalled John’s words to her, and reluctantly forced out: “Well, you’re… welcome to visit me while you’re in the area.”

She grabbed a notepad from the night stand and wrote her cell phone number, before handing it to the surprised Navy Captain. His eyes narrowed.

“Why would you want to spend time with me? You seem just as defiant as my Maggie, and the two of us aren’t even…”

Maggie bit her lip. “Look, your daughter isn’t available, but maybe there are some things you can work out with me instead. For example, I can tell you all about the events that led to her… uh, ‘career.’”

She wasn’t sure whether or not she should include the parts where Sherri had beaten Colin in the head, imprisoned Sam, and impersonated her. She would play it by ear.

Maggie had wanted to hate Sherri for doing that, but the experience being merged with her made it clear that had Maggie’s life gone in that direction, she most likely would have felt the same desperation, and may have resorted to the same things.

Maggie gestured towards the door. “Listen, I’ll send John over when he gets back. If he has any more to add, anyway.”

Tom nodded. “I get the hint. Good night, ladies.”

As he left, Maggie turned back to Sammy Jo, who had gone quiet as she listened to the conversation between the Becketts. The scientist looked up at her with an awkward expression.

“Must be so strange to see your Dad like this, huh?”

Maggie gave a resigned nod. “My Dad died a long time ago. Well before my Earth was destroyed. So it’s pretty surreal.”

Sammy Jo thought for a moment, before adding, “I never knew my Dad. Skipped out on my Mom when she was pregnant with me.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

She shrugged. “Can’t miss a guy I never met.”

“Guess not.”

5.13  ·  Oh, Fu…nding

Sam gave a token knock on the open door of Al’s office, as he peeked in. He’d been hearing a heated telephone discussion going on and knew it was something serious.

Al, having seconds ago slammed the phone to the cradle, was rubbing his eyes.

“I take it that wasn’t good news,” Sam said with a frown.

Al slapped the mahogany desk. “Bunch of stuffed shirts got no idea what they’re doing.”

Oh no, what happened now?

“The Committee?”

Al finally looked up at him. “With Grady dead, we lost our majority vote. And now we got rumblings of the President planning an invasion of goddamn Iraq – our funding’s number one on the chopping block, now that you’re home.”

Sam’s heart dropped.

“They can’t!” He took a few frantic steps into the room, and leaned forward, his hands planting on Al’s desk. “Don’t they understand the threat we’re trying to stop here?”

“That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to explain to them, but they’re a bunch of pig-headed political hacks who’d rather chase some flimsy intel in the Middle East than try and save a few thousand parallel Earths from ruin.”

“It’s not just parallel worlds that are in danger,” added Sam. “Ours could be subject to invasion at any time. Don’t they realise that?!”

“Of course they don’t. Most of these nozzles won’t even acknowledge global warming for Pete’s sake, and that’s happening right under their noses.”

Sam dragged his palm across his chin, then balled up his hand into a fist, which he plunged onto the desk. “Fuck!”

Al’s eyebrows shot up, then a smile drew across his face. “Jeez, you must be angry. Not sure I’ve ever heard you say that before.”

“Yeah, I don’t make a habit of it.” Sam stared down at his hands, there on the desk. “Think the last time I let an f-bomb slip, it was on the day I leaped for the first time. Same reason, I guess.”

Al’s smile dropped.

“Oh…” He leaned forward. “You’re not gonna… not yet? Are you?”

“How long do we have, you think? Before lights out?”

Al shook his head. “Not positive, but it’s not long now. A month, tops. Unless a miracle happens.”

Sam straightened, crossing his arms.

“I’ll need you in the Imaging Chamber for at least this one. So that limits it a little more. How about we pencil in next week?”

Al looked at him gravely.

“Sam, if the Project is shut down, and you aren’t back home, we’ll lose you. You won’t see me again. Who even knows what’ll happen to the Waiting Room? You want your leapees starving to death?”

That’s a good point.

Sam stood silent for a good few minutes, as he thought carefully.

“Okay,” he said finally, “if the Project is about to have its power cut off, here’s what you should do: first, attempt retrieval. If that doesn’t work…”

He paced a few laps of the room, mind racing. “I’m… I’m not sure. I have the seed of an idea, but…”

He rubbed his temple. “I’ll need to assemble all the physicists, brainstorm a bit.”

Al nodded. “Alright. Sammy Jo and John just got back from their drive this morning. I’ll let ’em know it’s all hands on deck tomorrow. I’ll rope the brothers in, too.”

“Thank you, Al.”

Al gave him a weak smile. “I always thought that even if you kept on leaping, I’d be there to keep you company.”

“Me too,” Sam mumbled.

“You gotta say proper goodbyes this time, got it? No leaving us all high and dry.”

“I promise.”

*          *          *

That night, as Sam slept beside Donna in their large bed, his wrist link began to vibrate, rousing him with a start.

As he blearily looked down at the pink, green, blue, and yellow flashing, his heart jumped, flooding adrenaline into his system.

Oh no, the EMP sensor…

He launched himself out of the bed, and grabbed a t-shirt before he dashed outside, to Donna’s car.

When he stepped out of the elevator at the Project, Al was already there, attempting to pull open the door to Ziggy’s mainframe.

“Someone’s in there and activated the manual override on this door,” he said as Sam rushed to him.

Are we finally about to get our hands on the saboteur?

Together, they pulled the door, and it inched open. Inside, Sam could see a dark figure hunched over what looked like a laptop.

“Hey!” He called out. The door was not open enough to squeeze through yet, so he kept pulling. The figure moved, and the laptop closed.

Finally, the pair got the door open far enough, and Sam slid into the room, hand slamming on the overhead lights.

“Don’t move!” cried Sam, his body lowering into a fighting posture. Then his squinting eyes focused on the person in the corner, hugging a laptop and looking at him with wide, watering eyes.

Sammy Jo?

Sam lowered his hands. “It was you? But why?”

Behind him, Al stood in the doorway. “Of all people… how could you?”

Sammy Jo shook her head. “This isn’t what it looks like, I swear!”

Sam glared back at her. “Then you’d better explain yourself.”

Slowly, she lowered the laptop, and opened it. The screen blinked on, and Sam recognised the formatting of Ziggy’s leap reports.

“A leap report?”

“You remember the paper I had to retract, about residual temporal anomalies?” She was looking into his eyes, searching.

“What about it?”

“Well my hometown was a hotbed for the anomalies, that’s how I got all the data I did. And when I found out about Project Quantum Leap, I realised that it must have been that multiple leaps occurred there. Only, I was locked out of accessing anything regarding Potterville. I never knew why. So when I found Grady’s EMP device at his house…”

Oh…

“You kept quiet about it, because you saw an opportunity to gain access to those reports.”

Sammy Jo nodded. “I’m sorry. I had to know what happened. I swear I was going to give this device up to you tomorrow. I just needed to know, given my family history and all.”

Sam hesitated. “Did you read… everything?”

She nodded, her eyes trained on his. “Always thought it was a little strange that an old lawyer told me he loved me out of the blue.”

“Uh, so she’s not the traitor?” Al interjected.

“I don’t think so,” said Sam, still making eye contact with Sammy Jo.

She put the laptop down on the control table, and moved towards him, tears escaping her eyes. He met her half way and they hugged.

“Were you ever planning to tell me?” she asked, before burying her face in his shoulder.

“I was,” he said truthfully. “I just didn’t know how to bring it up. It’s not something you just slip into a conversation…”

Sam gave her hair a few strokes with his hand, before withdrawing from the embrace.

“I should have known you’d find it out for yourself. You’re a smart cookie.”

The sound of the elevator doors opening made Sam jump, and he turned to see Quinn racing out of them.

“Came as fast as I could. Did you catch ’em?”

Sam exchanged a look with Al.

“Uh, false alarm,” he said, before gesturing towards Sammy Jo. “Quinn, you’ve met my daughter, right?”

End of Part 5