Chapter Three

As soon as the imaging chamber doors closed Al stormed
out to the control room. "Ziggy!" Al bellowed out
towards
the towering glowing lights that made up the
supercomputer, "just what is all of this 'Sam is
supposed to die' 
crap? Have you slipped a circuit breaker?" The
computer began its conversation by correcting the
Admiral in a calm, 
smooth voice "Admiral, as you are aware I stated that
Robert Savage has to die not Dr. Beckett." "Well
that's just
fine Ziggy. Of course Sam is presently occupying the
body of Robert Savage or have you given no thought to
this tiny 
matter?" "I, unlike humans, give thought and
consideration to all possible outcomes, possibilities
and problems before 
stating my information. You did not ask me what
problems this would create for Dr. Beckett. You asked
me what I meant by
stating the Robert Savage is supposed to die. I have
explained this answer to you. Robert Savage is
supposed to die. Dr.
Beckett is responsible for getting Robert Savage in
place for this to occur." "Look you," Al began but was
interrupted by
another voice entering the conversation. "Is there a
problem Al?" Dr. Donna Elisse's soft voice had spots
of concern around 
its edges. Al spun around from Ziggy and directed his
now softened glaze towards her, "Aw its nothing. Just
battery brain being 
difficult again." Donna could tell from the way Al's
eyes had stopped looking at her towards the end of the
sentence that he 
was covering up, but since he had always been straight
forward when the chips were down in the past she
decided for now to let
her explanation pass. Al seemed grateful that she had
asked nothing else and excused herself from the room.
He turned his 
attention back to Ziggy. Al stood quietly for a moment
chomping his cigar. It all seemed a very risky
prospect. Even if Sam was 
only supposed to get Robert Savage in place to be
killed there was the very real possibility that Sam
would not leap out in time. 
What if he died and this shallow snot nosed actor
wound up taking full residency in the body of a Nobel
Prize winning genius.
No it was to risky for Sam to even attempt. There must
be something that has gotten lost in the translation
or history of this 
guy. "Naw Ziggy," Al began again in a calmer, nicer
tone, "There has to be another way. And it is up to
you to figure out what 
that way will be."
	Sam straitened himself up. Al words had left him
staring blankly at the mirror and leaning on the cool
ceramic sink
for support. He knew he couldn't hide in the bathroom
forever. He took another look at the chiseled face
that grinned back 
at him from the mirror. "Not bad kid," Sam thought to
himself. Sam. froze. "Where did that thought come
from? Ego? Vanity?
In Sam Beckett? Naw. It must just be residue left over
from the Savage guy. A linger ego impression hanging
on like body 
odor. Sam chuckled quietly to himself. This guy must
have had so much ego that it is hiding of every nook
and cranny of his
body. Sam straightened his tie, brushed his hands
through his hair and proceeded quickly out of the
bathroom.