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.