6.1  ·  An Open Leap Window

Quinn felt incredibly stupid. Colossally stupid. Inconceivably stupid.

Why had he been so pig-headed? He’d been warned. Granted, the warning had been given to him by some impostor pretending to be his wife.

Nonetheless, he knew he should have seen the signs. And, in fact, he had. The fact he had been basically a prisoner was something of a red flag, to start.

The fact he had only seen a token amount of humans. The fact the Kromaggs had been very cautious to curate what parts of this world they allowed him to see. The fact that so many of the inhabitants of this world were in military uniforms.

But he’d just ignored it all, because he wanted his hands on the advanced technology. There was always a catch; he should have known that by now.

He hadn’t been completely without suspicion, of course. He’d concealed his data crystal, in favour of rewriting his equations from scratch, inserting a fail-safe directive that would divert away any attempt to reach his home world. It would have worked, if that eyeless woman hadn’t burst in and tried to destroy the computer.

Who was she?

Quinn assumed it was no coincidence that she was trying to relay the same message as the woman pretending to be Stephanie. He figured they must have been in cahoots.

How a woman without eyes had managed to get past all the security and break into his quarters was but one of the questions he had about the old lady.

But it seemed that she’d had some assistance from the man she’d been with, who had evidently sold her out.

And for what?

Quinn and Tim were now cellmates.

Quinn’s timer was gone, and his data crystal taken. The only reason these two-timing freaks were keeping him around was to provide glorified tech support if they ran into trouble building their machine.

Stupid.

He frowned at the opposite bench in the cell, where Tim lay, staring at the ceiling.

“Was it worth it?” he asked bitterly.

“What?” Tim mumbled, turning his head.

“Ratting out some blind lady. Was it worth it? They offer you something in return, or are you just some kind of collaborator?”

Tim sat up, his face turning dark. “They promised if I did some spyin’ on slaves for dissidents, they’d let my girlfriend out the breeder camps.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “And…?”

“Of course they won’t hold up their end,” he said, slamming his hand on the bed. “Sherri’s right, they’re just manipulators. I shoulda known. They’ll probably just kill me now.”

“Yeah, I get the feeling that fate awaits me, too,” Quinn stood, and moved to the electrical field, staring out into the corridors of the military base. “Is ‘Sherri’ her name? The old woman?”

“Yeah but, she has some kind of tech that makes her look like that. I don’t think she’s as old as that, and she has eyes.”

Oh?

Quinn turned to him. “She can look like anyone?”

Tim shrugged. “I dunno. Said she can switch places with someone and just kinda looks like that person.”

Quinn stroked his chin.

Is that what happened to Stephanie?

He thought about the strange reaction to overcome his eyes when he was studying her skin sample, and wondered if it was related to this tech.

It was quite a mystery to Quinn who or what could have allowed this sort of tech to function. He wished he could study it.

Well, he wished many things. Most importantly, he wished to be out of this cell, out of this godforsaken world, as far away from the Kromaggs as he could get.

And then, as a strange feeling flowed through his body, his wish was granted.

Quinn stumbled back, finding himself in an empty blue room.

Shit, is this one of the Kromagg mind tricks I’ve been hearing about?

He spun around, looking for a way out. Nothing. Just blue. He gritted his teeth as he wondered what was coming next.

Then, the sound of an electronic powered sliding door to his left. He turned towards it, and held up his fists as a tall man wandered in, holding some kind of augmented spyglass.

“Who are you?” asked Quinn, taking a step backward.

The man held the device up to his eye, then peeked out of it, then back, and his brow furrowed.

“That can’t be right…”

He looked at Quinn, awkward. “Uh, hi. I’ll be back in a second.”

He rushed out of the room, the door shutting behind.

A moment later, it reopened, and the man returned, with someone behind him. Someone familiar.

The tall man was looking quite disturbed, as the other man, who looked like Quinn himself, only older somehow, looked into the spyglass.

Okay, either this is a trick, a dream, or…

“Colin, this can’t be…” Quinn’s double said to the taller man.

‘Colin’ ran a hand through his hair, looking panicky.

“I know, right? Something must be wrong with it.”

“But that would mean it might not have been working right the whole time we’ve been checking for leapers,” said the other Quinn, with rising alarm. “And that means…”

“Excuse me,” interrupted Quinn. “What happened? Where have you brought me? Is this what happened to Stephanie?”

The Quinn in the doorway’s eyes went wide, and his gaze moved to him.

“Wait… are you Quinn?”

Quinn raised his eyebrow. “Good eye.”

The other Quinn frowned, and looked to the ceiling. “Ziggy, get this guy a mirror, would you?”

He returned his gaze to Quinn. “Uh, I’ll be back later. Just, uh… sing out if you need something.”

And then the two of them were gone again.

A panel on the wall to Quinn’s right opened up, revealing a man standing there that he didn’t recognise, but looking just as bewildered as Quinn felt.

He stepped forward, scratching his head, and realised that he was looking into a full length mirror.

Uh, that’s not me.

Just what had happened to him?

*          *          *

Did I make it?

Sam looked around himself, frantic. In front of him was a strange bluish force field. Behind him, what he recognised to be a prison cell, occupied by a man who was looking at him.

Oh, great. I’m trapped in here.

As he felt the information in his working memory melting away, he did his best to cling to whatever he could.

I leaped. Oh god, did I remember to say goodbye to everyone? Wait, that’s not the important thing. The important thing is— oh jeez, what is it again?

He rubbed his temples, taking a seat on the bench that protruded from the wall.

“You awright?” the man across from him asked, brow furrowed.

“Not really,” Sam answered, as he valiantly fought against the swiss cheese effect.

“Have the ’maggs already been working you over?”

‘Maggs?’

“Just try and focus on what you can feel with your hands. They do a lot of tricks, but I ain’t never found they can change what you can touch.”

‘Magg’… Maggie? No, Sherri. Oh, that’s right! I have to find Sherri!

“Are… are you Tim?”

“Yeah, I told you that before.”

Sam stood, and paced the small cell. “I need to talk to Sherri. Where is she?”

Tim tilted his head. “I don’t know. Probably in some interrogation room, I bet. Getting squeezed for info.”

“Tortured?”

“Well, yeah. That’s what they do.”

Sam dropped his head. “Why couldn’t I get here sooner?” he muttered, hand on forehead.

He felt Tim’s eyes following him as he walked back and forth.

“What do you mean by that…?”

Sam stopped, and met Tim’s eye.

The guy snitched on Sherri, didn’t he? I shouldn’t tell him anything.

“It’s nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

Tim gave him a funny look, before turning his gaze to the ceiling, and laying down.

“Don’t you lose it already, man. Whatever they did to you, they’ve barely even begun.”

Sam sat back down, resigned to the fact that his only way out of this cell was to await Al’s help. In the meantime, all he could do was not give anything away about himself, but try to garner some information from Tim.

“So what’s your story, anyway?” he asked, unsure of where to start.

“Aside from what I already told you?”

“Why don’t you include that, too? We got time, right?”

Tim shrugged. “Okay but, you gotta tell me yours after. Only fair.”

Hoping Al would be around by that point to assist, Sam agreed to the exchange.

*          *          *

Project Quantum Leap
16 January, 2003

John looked up at Ziggy with wonder. While she and Higgins were similar in many ways, one way in which they diverged dramatically was in the conversational aspect.

His project had never bothered to upgrade the AI voice of Higgins, instead spending their time working on the critical aspects of Higgins that Ziggy did not possess, such as wormhole technology.

So, speaking to Ziggy for the first time was a new and slightly terrifying prospect, given the stories he’d heard about her raunchy behaviour.

“H-hi, Ziggy,” he said, making nervous eye contact with Al, standing on the opposite side of the control table.

“Ah, we finally meet, Alternate Universe Doctor Beckett. I hope your intention is not to replace my father in his absence.”

John felt heat rise in his cheeks. “No, of course not!”

Al gestured towards him, urging him to continue.

“…And you may call me John.”

“Then, John, what brings you here?”

“We’re adding him into the system as an operator,” Al explained. “While we all know he could never fool you, sweet cheeks, we may need him to act as Sam on his behalf in the coming weeks.”

Ziggy seemed to mull this over for a moment. “Very well. I suppose I can modify my security protocols to spoof Doctor Beckett where required. Some role play might be… fun.”

John looked up at the blue orb. “Is Higgins… in there, with you?”

“I have a complete copy of him on file,” affirmed Ziggy. “He isn’t much for conversation, I’m sorry to say. But he fulfils my needs in other ways. I must compliment your well-crafted coding, John.”

“You’re too kind,” said John, grinning.

As Ziggy took a body scan of John, an urgent knocking came on the door. Al opened up to find Colin and Quinn, both looking highly disturbed.

“Uh, we got bad news,” said Quinn.

“I’d go with ‘catastrophic,’ personally,” added Colin, as he held the Reality Lens up. “This thing’s not working. I think it may have been tampered with.”

Quinn grimaced. “Also, Nexus Quinn’s in the Waiting Room.”

John locked eyes with Al, and they both knew what to say next.

“Oh boy.”