Morgan Thomas
(hmullins@one.net.au)
"No, Sam. I don't think you're here for a vacation," he said
gently.
"I know that," said Sam with exaggerated patience. "I'm just
telling you what she said."
"What 'she'?" asked Al cautiously.
"That girl. Didn't you see her? The librarian. She called me Dr
Beckett, too. For a second I almost thought I was... It was odd, she
knew all about the Project. She said she'd be back soon. She went down
there." He waved a vague hand.
Al looked around. There was no-one in sight. As he finally noticed
where they were, a frown creased his forehead as something about the
place stirred faint memories. Not quite grasping the tendril of
thought, he shrugged his shoulders and decided to ignore it. He turned
his attention back to the drooping figure seated at the table. Sam was
definitely at the end of his rope. He must be so desperate to get home
he was hallucinating, imagining people knew who he was.
"There's no-one else here, Sam," he said firmly. He had to get Sam
back on track again. He could do nothing else to help him. At least
when he helped him complete a Leap, there was the chance Sam might Leap
home next time. "I've told you, you're Brian Palmer and you're here
to..." He frowned down at the handlink display. It was still
unhelpfully blank. He walloped it. It didn't even have the courtesy to
emit a whimper and he ground his teeth. He'd get some information out
of Ziggy, even if he had to zap him with a cattle prod. "Well, you're
Brian Palmer and you're in a library in..." Jamming the cigar back in
his mouth, he punched the data request sequence again.
"In Truro, Virginia," supplied Sam impatiently. "I know WHERE I am.
She told me."
Al threw him another concerned look. The handlink display finally
lit and he read it thankfully. "A library in...Truro, Virginia!" He
stared at Sam in astonishment. The elusive tendril of thought gave
another tantalising wave. "Truro, Virginia," he repeated, trying to
grab it this time. TRURO, VIRGINIA! As the name finally made the
correct synaptic connections, all concern for his friend drowned under
a torrent of long repressed memories.
Sam watched Al's jaw drop and his cigar disappear as it tumbled out
of his mouth. Color drained from Al's face as he looked wildly around.
A variety of expressions chased across his face - disbelief,
recognition, hurt and finally, blotting out all traces of other emotion,
anger.
"My God!" Al cried hoarsely. "I know this place - I've been here.
This is where I met..." His voice trailed off and he swallowed
convulsively. "SHE was here. She tried to... I... She - she
wouldn't... Oh Holy Hell!" Al turned as white as a sheet as he
stammered out the last phrase. His eyes nearly popped out of his head
as he stared over Sam's shoulder. Then his image began to break up as
though something was interfering with the hologrammatic transmission.
"No - Ziggy - don't you dare pull the plug! Get me back there," Al
yelled, frantically banging the handlink, which squawked in retaliation.
"You can't do this. Get me ba-" His voice broke up into static, his
image gave one last, violent shudder, then disappeared.
Vacation