Part 2 Sam's attempted exit from the club was made rather difficult by the large number of Jack's acquaintances who stopped him to offer congratulations. Among these was a woman whose close embrace made Kim a little uneasy. "I don't care what you say. I still think she has a thing for you," Kim spoke. "Who?" "Her. Jesse. She definitely has it bad for you." A new voice spoke up: "Don't worry, they're only good friends." "Thanks, Matt." Kim obviously knew who Matt was, but Sam was oblivious. It became apparent to him that Matt was a close friend when he gave Sam a big hug and a facial expression of brotherly pride. "Uh, thanks," Sam said, the best he could come up with. He found that his apparent lack of a way with words was not a contrast with that of whom he inhabited. Matt said: "Hey, I'll see you at tomorrow's gig. Get some sleep." Kim's reply was: "Not if I have anything to do with it." After a big giggle Matt was gone, and Kim led Sam outside. Sam was taken aback by her subtle expressions and the easiness with which she seemed to present herself, and he was sure it wasn't phony. Just then he remembered Paul. He was so caught up in everything that Paul slipped his mind. "Hey, I forgot to tell Paul something." "Okay. I'll be right here." Sam knew he had to keep his eye on Paul all day tomorrow, so he figured that starting early would do the trick. It took him a while to find his lead singer, and when he did it was in the club manager's office. Paul came out briskly and seemed rather disgruntled. "What's wrong?" asked Sam. "Nothing. Nothing you need to worry about." "But I can help if you tell me what's wrong," Sam replied. "I just need to know what's up with the manager." "I can handle him, he's my uncle. Don't worry. So I thought you left with Kim?" "Yeah. I was. I mean, I am. I was just wondering if you wanted to have breakfast tomorrow." "You? Get up in time for breakfast? I didn't expect this, especially since you have no classes tomorrow. Ok. How's about Bob Evans?" "Fine, say 9:00," Sam said in relief that it went this easy. "Th-that'll work," Paul seemed to stutter out. Paul disappeared into the restroom, and Sam went out to look for Kim. She was waiting exactly where she was when he left. When he came out, she embraced Sam and kissed him passionately. "I love you, Jack." "I love you too," Sam replied, almost meaning it, he thought. "Let's go back to my place." Oh, Boy. "What do you mean, he remembered you?" "That's what I'm telling you, Admiral," Dr. Verbeena Beeks replied. "He's been here three times, and each time I went in to talk to him. That's standard procedure." "Hmmm. That's pretty interesting. I'm gonna go talk to him." Al walked up the ramp to the Waiting Room door, past the MP stationed there. He put in his card and the door opened. He walked in and saw the young man for the third time, and he looked every bit the same as he looked different. Only Al could see Jack Vescio for who he really was, because Ziggy programmed it that way after Al experienced some problems looking at Sam as a woman. Everyone else saw the image of Dr. Beckett. "How do you feel, kid?" Al asked. "I'm kinda chilly," Jack replied. "I could get you a bathrobe or something." "What the hell is this that I'm wearing?" "It's a specially designed suit that gives us your vital signals," answered Al. "I guess it doesn't do much to keep you toasty." "Hell, no! It's friggin' freezing in here." "So my associate tells me you think you've seen her before." Jack was reluctant to say: "Yeah, I have. Twice. I remember it rather vividly. I was driving to my friend's house in Carnegie and all of a sudden I was here in this room. It only lasted a few minutes, just long enough for your lady friend to walk in and check me out. When I was suddenly returned to Carnegie, I was standing by a car that was previously on fire and some guys waiting for an ambulance. When it got there, I left. Then about a couple years later I was waiting for an elevator in one of the school buildings when, poof! I was here again. So was the lady, wearing the same thing, if I recall correctly. Then again, almost all of the sudden, I was in the elevator, talking to my girlfriend, who was not my girlfriend yet." Al noticed the sudden discomfort on Jack's face. "What's the matter, kid?" "She must be worried sick. Does she know where I am?" "No." "Neither do I. Why don't you tell me?" "I'm afraid I can't do that. I have to tend to some business. Remember, if you need anything, just ask the MP at the door. There's a call button. Ok?" "Yep. MP, as in multiple personality?" "No, military police." "I was fucking with you. You need to relax," Jack said. But the Admiral could not. Why had this kid, of all the folks who had come and gone out of this place, not been the victim of the standard Swiss-cheesed memory? Why had he remembered everything so clearly? Al was allowed to tell him the circumstances of Sam's mission, but he figured it was best to keep the info at a minimum for the time being. For now, he was going to get to the bottom of this memory thing and figure out how to help Sam at the same time. After ten minutes, Jack had become cold enough that he decided he needed that bathrobe, and maybe a blanket or two, so he got up and pushed the MP call button. "My own personal Army guy," he thought to himself. "Oh, boy!" "Yes, sir," a serious voice responded over the radio. "Can I get that bathrobe and a couple blankets? I'm cold as hell." "Hell is hot, sir." "Smart-ass," Jack thought. About two minutes later the door opened and a familiar looking MP walked in. Could it be? Jack thought for a minute, because although it looked like his old friend, he seemed a bit older. Then he figured to hell with it. "How's it going, John?" "Do I know you, sir?" John the MP replied. "It's me. Jack Vescio. Don't you recognize me?" "Jack? Are you kidding? I can't believe it!" The MP responded with excitement. "What on Earth are you doing here?" "I could tell you if I knew where here was," Jack said. "I'm afraid I can't go into details, at least not out loud." "Ok, we'll whisper. Hey, you still with the same girl?" "Who? Jenn? Yep." "Married?" "Yep." "Kids?" "Yep. Two." "Sweet. So what the hell's going on?" "You're part of an, um, experiment in time travel. A man, a scientist named Dr. Sam Beckett, has taken you're place in time and you have taken his." "How do you get away with that? Don't people know?" "No. Dr. Beckett appears to be you, and you appear to be him." "Bullshit." "You think?" John asked. "That table is a reflective surface. Go and take a look, and we'll see what's bullshit." Jack hesitantly looked into the shiny table, and marveled at the reflection, for it was not his own. "Holy shit," he said. "See? You thought I was lying." "Well, yeah. So this Beckett is pretending to be me? Why?" "To put right something that went wrong," John responded. "Which was?" "I probably shouldn't tell you. Just don't worry. Everything will be fine. No one will know you were gone. Not even Kim." "Oh, shit! She'll know. She has to. Especially when he doesn't sleep with her." "Well," John said, "I don't think that's a problem. You see, it is part of the criteria that Dr. Beckett do everything in his power to convince everyone in your life that he's you." Jack was furious. "So you mean he's doing my girlfriend?!" "Sorry, man. I guess it would be better if you could sleep with his wife, eh?" "Damn. That wasn't funny." "Sorry."