This is a cross-over fanfiction story joining Quantum Leap, Star Trek (TOS), and Babylon 5.
SPOILERS:
DISCLAIMER: Babylon 5, Star Trek, and Quantum Leap characters and locations belong to their respective copyright holders. I'm just borrowing them for a little while.
ABOUT THE SERIES:
QUANTUM LEAP: Doctor Sam Beckett Leaps from one person's life to another. In this other person's life, he uses their body, while their consciousness gets housed in his own body in the Waiting Room. He can only Leap out of a person when his task - saving a someone's life, usually - is completed. This is possible through a goverment project known as Project Quantum Leap. Due to an error in the retrieval process, Sam is unable to return to his own time and body. By Sam Beckett's 'string theory,' these Leaps should only be possible within his own past lifetime. During each Leap, Sam has the help of Admiral Al Calavicci, his Observer, who appears to him as a hologram that only he (and very young children and some animals) can see or hear. Al carries around an extension of Ziggy, their artificially intelligent computer, to tell them things that are going to happen and the probablity that something will or won't work.
BABYLON 5: Babylon 5 is space station built and run by the Earth Alliance (which is the government that the people of Earth recognize as 'their government') as a neutral place for governments to work out their differences. The main spacefaring military of the Earth Alliance is EarthForce. There is no beaming technology. The Interstellar Alliance (ISA) is another 'government' of which Earth is a part though it more resembles the US under the Articles of Confederation than under the Constitution. As of the time of this story the ISA is very new, and the first President (John Sheridan) is working out of Babylon 5, the station he used to command. The current commander is EarthForce's Captain Elizabeth Lochley.
Walter Koenig: He's an actor. He plays Chekov in Star Trek and Bester in Babylon 5. That piece of information is vital for this story to make any sense. Incidently, we are at the point in B5 where Garibaldi deperately wants to kill Bester.
Babylon 5: The setting is in the 5th season of Babylon 5.
Star Trek: none - This is just a routine task for Chekov, sometime during the original series.
Quantum Leap: none - This is just a generic leap for Sam.
STAR TREK: The USS Enterprise travels about the galaxy saving the world and boldly going where no one has gone before. Basically, all you need to know to under this particular story is that the United Federation of Planets is the government that people of Earth recognize as 'their government'. The Federation's spacefaring military is known as StarFleet. Transportation between ships and planets can be accomplished through shuttles or through transporting (also known as beaming). Beaming disassembles all of a person's molecules and reforms them someplace else; generally this starts and/or ends in a transporter room.
Epsilon III orbit
USS Enterprise
August 6, 2262
Ensign Pavel Chekov nodded to Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott. "Ready, Mr. Scott."
"Energizing," the Engineer said, and pressed the button to beam the Ensign over to the USS Gemini. Light flickered around the gold-shirted ensign, then he was gone. All the young Russian needed to do was hand over a packet of disks to the Gemini's commanding officer - a small task Kirk hadn't the time or inclination to do himself. Chekov had gladly volunteered for the chance to get a change of scenery - not that the Gemini was much different from the Enterprise, but nobody felt the need to mention that to the ensign.
After a few minutes a voice came over his communicator, "Scotty, this is Kirk."
"Aye, sir, what can I do for you?"
"Is Chekov about ready to beam over yet? Admiral Lawrence is getting impatient."
Scotty frowned, and checked the transporter's instruments. Everything looked normal. "He should be over there already, sir," the engineer told Kirk with a hint of worry in his Scottish voice. "Beamed him out almost ten minutes ago."
Kirk signed out curtly, and Scott tried to figure out what, if anything, had gone wrong with the transporter. Worry tugged at him, and tried not to think of what would have happened to Chekov if the equipment had malfunctioned.
After what seemed a very long time, Kirk appeared in the transporter room, McCoy and Spock on his heels, as usual. "Is he over there?" Scotty asked, concerned.
"We were unable to track his communicator, and he does not respond to our queries," Mr. Spock answered with the words Scotty did not want to hear. "No one on the Gemini has seen him, either."
Scott waved at the transporter controls helplessly. "I'm sure I programmed the coordinates correctly, and it gives no indication of an anomoly. I just don't understand it, Captain. He should be over there."
Epsilon III orbit
Babylon 5: C&C
August 6, 2262
Lieutenant Commander David Corwin looked up from his readings and turned to Captain Elizabeth Lochley. "I just read an unusual energy spike in Blue Sector." He looked at his instrumentation again, then added, "It's gone now. Could have been a malfunction."
Lochley joined him at his station and looked at his readouts. Corwin pressed a two button sequence to return the screen to the time of interest. He pointed to a number significantly different than those around it. "For just a second it peaked, right -" suddenly he screamed in pain and collapsed to the floor.
Lochley wasted no time hitting the link on her wrist and demanding that Franklin send up a medical team, STAT. She bent down to Corwin, and would have helped him sit back up but he was out cold. She checked his pulse and was relieved to find its - admittedly weak - existance. After a few minutes, the medical team arrived, hoisted the officer onto a stretcher, and led him to medlab.
When they had disappeared from sight, Lochley took another look at Corwin's board, and hit her link again. "Zack, check out Blue Sector, Level Three. There was a strange reading there, then Corwin collapsed." At his acknowledgement, she cut the connection and returned Corwin's station to real-time. There was nothing unusual in Blue Sector, Level Three.
She turned C&C over to another officer, and hurried to check on her executive officer.
Epsilon III orbit
Babylon 5: Blue Sector, Level 3
August 6, 2262
Pavel Chekov rematerialized in the middle of a corridor that looked quite different anything found in the Enterprise. And he'd been worried that this errand would be boring with only a change of faces to mark a difference from his own ship. He clapped a hand over his pocket to make sure he still had the disks, then looked around for the Gemini officer who was to conduct him to the Admiral. He wondered why he had beamed into a hallway rather than the Gemini's transporter room.
Perhaps it was a miscalculation of the coordinates. Nobody seemed to be waiting for him, nor even paying him much attention. Not that the almost deserted hall had many people that could pay him much mind. He wiped away a bead of cold sweat that had appeared on his forehead. If it was a coordinate miscalculation, he was darn luckly he hadn't rematerialized in the vacuum of space.
He was about to stop and ask the corridor's other occupant if he was, indeed, on the USS Gemini when she stepped into a doorway and disappeared from sight. Chekov looked at the door for a moment before deciding he was very lucky not to be a depressurized corpse or loose string of molecules right now. No Federation starship had doors like that. The Enterprise and the Gemini had been the only two ships in the system, which meant that the calculation was not only very wrong, but quite impossible, since he was well outside the beaming technology's range.
He would need to get in contact with StarFleet as soon as possible to let them know he wasn't dead. Once they figured out he wasn't on the Gemini, that would be the only conclusion they could draw. People just don't survive transporter mishaps. This is generally considered a good thing. With a sudden fright, Chekov counted to make sure he still had all ten of his fingers. He was about to take off his boot to check on his toes when a hand grabbed his shoulder.
Chekov let out a startled yelp and half-fell, half-spun away from the contact. As he saw the face of the man who had grabbed him, he was surprised to note recognition and dislike appear on the stranger's face. "You! What are you doing here and how'd you get past customs?" the man's gravely voice demanded. Then he looked down at the Federation uniform and added, "And why are you wearing that?"
"I - I -" Chekov realized he was at a complete loss at how to answer any of the questions, so he tried one of his own, "Should I know you?"
The man in the grey uniform blinked, and looked at him closer, "No, I guess you're not Bester." But his eyes were still narrowed in suspicion. "You look an awful lot like him, though. I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."
Chekov did not argue as the man lead him toward a pair of doors at the end of the hallway, taking the opportunity instead to introduce himself. "I am Ensign Pavel Chekov of the USS Enterprise."
Epsilon III orbit
Babylon 5: Medlab
August 6, 2262
Admiral Al Calavicci appeared in the center of medlab's busy activities, looking at a handheld device and mumbling to himself. "Hey, Sam," he said, without looking up. When he got no reply, he looked away from the device and tried to locate his friend. Nobody paid him any heed; in fact, doctors and nurses hurried by as though he weren't there at all.
Which he wasn't.
"Sam?" he tried again, but nobody turned toward him. He studied each of the people in the medlab, then came to a stop next to a bed with a young man in a blue uniform laying on it. The man was unconscious and no less than three doctors surrounded the bed trying to find out what was wrong.
Eventually, one of them stepped back, took off his plastic gloves, and turned to a woman with long brown hair who wore the same uniform as the man on the bed. "Captain, almost every test I run turns up normal. It wasn't a heart attack, it wasn't a stroke, and there is no sign of a concussion. Frankly, he should still be awake and working. The only evidence that everything is not as it should be is that a neural scan shows minor damage similiar to a weak Psi attack."
"Ziggy," Al asked, directing the question to his handheld device, "what's going on?"
99.2% LIKELIHOOD THAT THE LEAP CAUSED THE COLLAPSE, the words scrolled across the handheld's screen. SAM LEAPT OUTSIDE HIS STRING.
"Outside his string?" Al repeated, noticing for the first time that the medical equipment was definitely not something he could find in most hospitals. "By how much?"
THE YEAR, AS BEST I CAN ESTIMATE IT, IS 2260, PLUS OR MINUS FIVE.
"2260!" Al repeated loudly. "That's not only out of his string, that's the future! By a lot!"
AND THAT IS WHY THERE IS A 99.2% CHANCE THAT THE LEAP CAUSED SAM AND HIS HOST TO COLLAPSE.
"And his host?" Al was beginning to feel like a broken record. "So the man in the Waiting Room is unconscious too?"
THAT IS WHAT I SAID, ADMIRAL.
"What else can go wrong?" Al asked, rhetorically. It was the wrong thing to say.
IF YOU LEAVE THE IMAGING ROOM, THERE IS A 87.2% CHANCE THAT WE WILL NOT BE ABLE TO RE-ESTABLISH CONTACT WITH SAM AND A 99.9% CHANCE THAT HE WILL DIE IF WE LOSE CONTACT. ALSO, THERE IS A 96.9% CHANCE THAT HE WILL NOT WAKE UP THIS LEAP. SO FOR HIM TO LEAP OUT, SOMEONE ELSE - NAMELY YOU - WILL NEED TO COMPLETE HIS TASK, WHATEVER THAT IS.
"Me? But nobody can even see or hear me!" Until now, he had always considered that to be a good thing.
SO FIND A SMALL CHILD OR FURRY ANIMAL TO TRANSLATE.
Epsilon III orbit
Babylon 5: Blue Sector, Level 3
August 6, 2262
"How far are we from Epsilon III, anyway?" Zack's prisoner asked as they entered a lift.
Security Chief Zack Allen couldn't help but laugh. Despite the uncanny resemblance, he couldn't imagine how he had originally mistaken the excitable young man for Alfred Bester. The kid was nearly young enough to be the Psi Cop's grandson. "You're on Babylon 5, which orbits Epsilon III, why?"
The young ensign stopped studying the lift walls, and looked at him with an expression of surprised confusion that Zack found uncomfortably familiar. "That is not possible," the accented voice, however, was reassuringly not in Bester's mocking tones. "The Enterprise and the Gemini vere the only wessels in that system ven I beamed out."
Zack frowned back at him. "Babylon 5 has been here for over four years. And there are no Earthforce ships out there right now."
The young man cocked his head, his expression turning - if anything - more similiar to one of Bester's. The kind he used when he thought - or knew - that someone was trying to lie to him. "EarthForce? Vat is EarthForce?"
Zack closed his mouth on whatever reply his tongue was trying to make without his permission. "How about we go visit the Captain right now, and she'll explain." It wasn't really a question, but the young man nodded his agreement.
Epsilon III orbit
Babylon 5: Medlab
August 6, 2262
Doctor Franklin had just returned to Corwin's side when the doors to medlab opened and Zack and Alfred Bester stepped in. Lochley gave Bester a second look and realized the man was much too young and much too wide-eyed to possibly be the disconcerting Psi Cop. But it was still worrisome that someone who looked so much like him should be on the station just as Corwin collapsed from what Franklin called 'a minor psi attack'. She noticed that he did not wear a Psi Badge, though that did not neccessarly mean he wasn't a telepath.
"I found this young man in Blue Three," Zack announced. "He claims to be Ensign Pavel Chekov from the Enterprise but," the security chief went over to medbay's computer terminal and passed quickly through several screens before turning back to her. "But nobody with that name passed through customs," he finished. Lochley's eyes narrowed. "Funny thing is," Zack continued, "he don't know what EarthForce is."
Lochley's gaze snapped toward the young man. He just spread his hands, and said helplessly "I don't," in an accented voice. If it wasn't such an outrageous claim she might have believed him. For all his resemblance to Bester, he did somehow manage to look innocent and lost.
"How can you not know what EarthForce is and still claim to be an ensign?"
"I am an ensign in StarFleet," he said as though he expected her to know what StarFleet was.
"And what's that?" she asked, willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"Vat is that?!" the Russian repeated incredulously, "It is StarFleet." When she showed no sign of recognition, he added, very slowly, "Star-Fleet, ze miliary of ze Federation."
Lochley frowned in confusion. Federation? "The Minbari Federation?"
"Vat is Minbari?"
No, apparently not the Minbari Federation. "What Federation?"
The young man looked at her as though she had grown a third eye. "The United Federation of Planets," he answered as though she were stupid.
She exchanged a confused glance with Zack. "And what planets are united under this Federation?" she asked the young man.
"Lots of planets," he answered unhelpfully, then specified, "including Earth and Wulcan."
She and Zack looked at each other again, and this time she jerked her head over to one side. "Stay here," Zack instructed the Russian, then joined her against one wall. "I think he's crazy," he gave his opinion without encouragement.
She couldn't help but nod her agreement. "He seems to believe what he says though."
"McIntyre believed he was King Arthur. He was as crazy as the Hatter, too."
"He seems harmless enough. I'll have Stephen give him a check-up, then he can move about as he wishes. Keep an eye on him though, I don't want Garibaldi killing him before he realizes the kid isn't Bester." She turned back toward Corwin and his surrounding doctors. "Franklin." The dark-skinned one who has spoken to her earlier, turned at the sound of his name and approached. "I'd like you to look over the young man here," she nodded toward Chekov. The doctor startled when he saw the boy.
The ensign grimaced at the reaction. "I take it my double is not a nice person and you all know him?"
"That's the diplomatic way of putting it," Zack drawled.
"Doctor," Lochley said, returning the conversation back to its orginal heading. "Ensign Chekov here needs a quick review of his medical condition."
Chekov's eyes widened in alarm, "No, no I don't. I am perfectly healthy."
"It's required for everybody coming in from the Federation," Lochley lied easily.
The young man's expression was still dismayed, but he nodded reluctantly. "Wery vell."
Franklin was surely lost by her last statement, but he played along gamely. "If you'll just come with me, I'll give you a chance to change into a med gown." Chekov's face turned bleaker, and Lochley relaxed as she realized that the youngster's initial uncooperativeness was due to a simple dislike of doctors rather than anything that he was specifically trying to hide. Lochley followed. When Franklin closed a door between them and the young man, he turned to her, "Just what exactly is going on?"
"I have two theories about him. He's either a crazy but harmless boy, or he's the one responsible for Corwin's attack. He was found in Blue 3, the area Corwin had just identified as the location of an energy spike. He looks like a young Bester, so the chances are good that he's a telepath. On the other hand, he claims to serve in something called 'StarFleet' which is the miliary of a government he calls the 'United Federation of Planets' which he claims includes Earth. I'm sure he believes what he says."
Epsilon III orbit
Babylon 5: Medlab
August 6, 2262
Al walked through the wall as Franklin opened the door to enter the small room where the young ensign sat in a blue paper gown on a cabinet. He smiled nervously at the doctor. Franklin crossed the room to a screen embedded into the wall. "What's your full name, Chekov?"
"Pavel Andreievich Chekov."
The doctor tapped at the computer interface, growing increasingly annoyed. "I can't find your medical record in Earth's database." He finally admitted.
Chekov frowned. "It should be there. Did you spell Andreievich correctly?" He hopped down to look over the doctor's shoulder. "Da, that's right." The doctor tried again, but again came up with nothing.
"Maybe they spelt it vrong?" he asked uncertainly.
"If I could take a DNA sample, that will find it easier," Franklin suggested.
Chekov appeared to think about it, then nodded, "Da." He tentatively offered his wrist. Franklin scraped off some skin cells, then placed them into a dish, which he inserted into another computer. After several moments, a picture of a much older Chekov appeared on the screen, and the words 'DNA match: Alfred Bester' appeared beside it. Other personal data scrolled down beneath the name.
"There must be some mistake," Chekov said in confusion. "My name is Pavel Chekov, and I was born in 2241 not 2189, in Pushkino, Russia! That man is not even Russian!"
Al muffled a laugh, then realizing it wouldn't bother anybody, just laughed. Instead of being upset that he had no medical records, or that there existed another person with his genetic make-up, the kid was indignant that his double wasn't Russian, as if by being born in - Al check the listed birthplace - Geneva, Alfred Bester had personally insulted the young ensign.
Chekov glared at him, "Vat are you laughing at?" he demanded crossly.
Al stopped laughing as suddenly as if somebody had pushed an off button on a laughter recording. He looked behind him, but there was nobody there. Chekov was definitely looking at him. By no stretch of the imagination could he be looking at Franklin, who wasn't laughing anyway. "You can see me?" he asked, unable to keep the shock clear of his voice.
"Of course I can, I am not blind, you know."
MADMEN AND DRUNKS CAN ALSO SEE YOU, Ziggy reminded him, the words crossing the handheld's screen.
"Who are you talking to?" Franklin asked cautiously.
Chekov frowned at him. "Him," he said, pointing at Al. "You mean you can't see him?"
"I'm supposed to be invisible," Al tried to explain.
Chekov looked back and forth between them. "I am mad, then," he said decisively. "I am Russian, Russians can admit these things."
"I don't think he's mad, though, Ziggy," Al told Ziggy, "And I'm sure he's not drunk."
Chekov looked at him curiously, then declared, "The invisible man that I can see is mad, too."
Epsilon III orbit
Babylon 5: Medlab
August 6, 2262
Franklin closed the door on Chekov and 'the invisible man that he can see' and leaned against it with a weary sign.
"What is it?" Lochley apparently hadn't gotten bored and gone back to C&C yet.
"The kid. I tried looking for his medical files, but there are no Pavel Chekovs in the database, and his DNA only turns up Alfred Bester's file. They're apparently an exact match. I'd say he was Bester with amnesia except that he is clearly forty or fifty years younger. Then, he suddenly starts talking to thin air, asking why it's laughing. I'd say he was mad except, moments later, he gave himself the same diagnosis. In my experience, mad people don't know they're mad."
"Is he a danger to himself or others?"
Franklin shook his head. "He seems harmless. Russian, but harmless." At Lochley's frown, he added, "Nothing against Russians, of course, Susan is one of the best officers I have ever met, and she is among my best friends. But Russians are," he shrugged, unable to put the thought into more descriptive words, "Russian."
By her lack of response, Lochley didn't understand. But then, she hadn't spent the last four years with Susan Ivanova or the last twenty minutes with Chekov. Russians seemed unable to let anyone forget that they were Russians. "Is he a telepath?" Lochley asked, changing the subject.
Franklin shrugged, "I imagine so, he shares a full gene compliment with Bester. However, he gave no indication of it. Though if - and I stress if - there really was an invisible man in there, that might explain why he could see him and I couldn't." He turned from Lochley and addressed the Computer, "Scan medlab for any unusual transmissions or non-authorized personel." He looked back at Lochley. "Just in case there is a logical explaination for this."
Epsilon III orbit
Babylon 5: Medlab, Franklin's Office
August 6, 2262
"Soo," Al said to Chekov when Franklin left. "You can see and hear me, huh?"
"Vy can't ze doctor?"
"My question is why can you?" He looked upwards and asked, "Why couldn't it have been a woman?" The handlink squealed and he looked down at it. "Don't you have any scenarios you should be running, Ziggy?" he asked it, before turning back to Chekov. "You can believe me or not, but here's what's going on to the best of my ability to figure it out. You did something which caused some alarm to go off. A fella named," he checked his handlink, frowned, then shrugged, "something reported it, then collapsed when my friend Sam Leapt into him." He scowled and made a quarter turn to the left, and made a wide, annoyed gesture. "Who's he gonna tell? He's two hundred and sixty years into the future, I don't think he poses a security risk." He stopped, apparently listening to somebody, then spoke slowly and clearly as if to a small child. "Then we won't tell the committee, will we, Gooshie?"
"He is as crazy as I am," Chekov observed, aloud.
Al offered him a glare. "I am not crazy. And neither, I think, are you. Where was I? Oh, right. Sam Leapt into the unconscious fellow out there, and they both dropped. That probably accounts for the 'psi attack' like damage the doctor found. Though what a psi attack is, I don't know. And since they're both unconscious, probably until this Leap is over, I've got to set right whatever wrong was going to happen since Sam can't. And since I'm just a hologram, and you can see me, you," Al somehow managed to use his whole body to point at Chekov, "are going to help." He nodded as if it were decided.
"I know enough zat I know I should not listen to the woices in my head."
Al seemed to deflate. "You have no sense of adventure at all."
Chekov looked offended. "Do too!"
"You don't."
"I do!"
Epsilon III orbit
Babylon 5: Medlab
August 6, 2262
"Anomoly detected," the monotonous female voice used by Babylon 5's central computer said. "High frequency holographic projection located in your office."
"Show image."
"Converting." A screen showing Chekov apparently talking to himself flickered and was replaced by the same scene with one minor difference. A second man in brilliant orange and red clothing was now filling the space that Chekov appeared to be speaking to. This man was just as obviously talking back to Chekov.
"Audio," Franklin instructed.
"You have no sense of adventure at all," a voice Franklin did not recognize said in time to the movement of the hologram's mouth.
Lochley and Franklin exchanged looks. "He's apparently not hallucenatory, then." Franklin nodded his agreement.
"Do too!" Chekov returned, hotly offended.
"You don't," the hologram shrugged calmly, then stuck an unlit cigar between his teeth and tapped on some kind of handheld device.
"I do!"
"Uh-uh," the hologram disagreed around his cigar, "or you'd be eager to help me out here."
"You don't exist!"
The hologram cocked his head, and removed the cigar from his mouth. "Now, Pavel. That's not a very nice thing to say. Just because nobody's supposed to see me doesn't mean I'm not real." The device in his his hand squealed and he glanced at it again. "You think they've what?" He looked upward, and called, "Center me on the doctor, Gooshie." The hologram disappeared from the screen.
"Find it again," Lochley instructed the computer, and the image changed to one of them. The hologram was leaning over the same console they were. When his image appeared, he jerked backwards in surprise. "Ziggy! They see me, too!" he sounded alarmed and almost scared. When his voice came out of the speakers, he starled again, and looked desperately to his right. What he saw there, Franklin wasn't willing to guess. "I know that!" He told whatever it was he was seeing, then jumped again when his voice was repeated on the speaker.
Lochley turned to face the air where the screen showed him to be. "Who are you?" she demanded, feeling somewhat silly addressing something that she couldn't see except through the monitor behind her.
On the monitor, the hologram moved so that she was looking several feet to his left. Franklin cleared his throat. "Turn about twenty degrees clockwise, Captain. He moved." She did as instructed. "Right, there, no, he's moving again."
"Stand still, blast you!"
"Blasting won't have any affect on me," the voice that could only be heard through the speaker said. "Might startle me, perhaps, until I remember that it's just a hologram, but it won't - Gooshie, will you just shut up? The nozzles in the Senate can worry about that, I have to get Sam out, and if that means telling them these things, then I'm going to tell them."
On the monitor, he stopped looking off to the side and upwards, turned to place himself in what should have been Lochley's line of sight, and waved in front of her face. "Go look on the screen. This is just creeping both of us out." They walked back to the screen, Lochley stopped when she reached it, The hologram walked through it, and took a position on its other side where he could see both the monitor and her face. "My name - oh, bring the kid out, too, I only want to go through this once." Franklin opened the door to his office and invited Chekov to join them.
"You weren't hallucinating," Franklin assured him. "He's some kind of hologram that you somehow were able to see. We've got him on the monitor over there."
Chekov looked in the direction of Franklin's finger and blanched. "You mean he is standing in the monitor over zere," he said just as the speakers emitted "So that's what it looks like when I walk through things. Pretty spooky, huh? Oh, you're here now, kid. I'm Admiral Albert Calavicci. I serve the United States Navy, as opposed to either EarthForce," he nodded to Lochley, "or StarFleet," he nodded to Chekov. "That probably dates me for both of you."
"Computer, search archives, US Navy, Albert Calavicci," Lochley said.
"That's hardly polite," the Admiral complained, but cocked his head attentively when the computer's voice began speaking, almost more intersted than the others on its report.
"Albert Calvicci, born June 15, 1934, retired with the rank of Rear Admiral -"
Al frowned. "No more promotions?"
"- in 2007, at the age of seventy-three. -"
"Seventy three? I retire in six years? Sam, I hope you're back by then."
"- Calavicci served in the Vietnam War and was taken prisoner. He was released eight years later, and went on to become an astronaut, after which he began work on several other Navy projects."
"'Other Navy projects'? That's the best you can do? Ziggy, your reputation is secure even in 2260. What year is it anyway? I was given a ten year guess range."
"2262," Franklin answered, then asked, clearly not willing to believe it, "You're from 2001?"
Al shrugged, "Yeah. One of them other projects deals with time travel. I'm supposed to be the Observer."
"What do you observe?"
His cigar returned to his hand, and he actually lit it this time. He stabbed the smoking end toward the bed containing Corwin. "Sam." He turned toward the same place he had spoken to before, "Gooshie, I have it on very good authority that I retire in 2007. Therefore, I don't lose my job over this." He appeared to be listening for a moment, then said, slightly surprised, "That is a good idea. Hey," on the monitor, he looked backed towards the monitors' depictions of Lochley and Franklin, "can you have your computer do a search on Samuel Beckett?" His handlink squealed, and he glared at it when he read whatever it was that it said. "I can take bad news as well as good news, Ziggy."
"Computer, search archives, Samuel Beckett, twentieth century," Lochley asked.
"Two entries found."
"Doctor Samuel Beckett," Al prompted, "Quantum physics."
Apparently the computer was as willing to take Al's criteria as Lochley's. "Doctor Samuel Beckett, born August 8, 1953, received six doctorates, in quantum physics, classical music, medicine, ancient languages, archeology, and artificial intelligence. He earned the Nobel prize in Physics in 1983, and left acedemia to joint a government project."
The hologram waited a moment, then demanded, "That's it? What about after that? Has anyone seen him since 1995? What about a death certificate?" The little machine in his hand squealed again. He ignored it.
"Searching," the computer announced. They waited. "A missing persons report was filed in 2007 by Admiral Albert Calavicci. He was never found."
It was hard to tell in the grainy monitor, but it appeared that the hologram lost some of his color. But then something changed in his stance and said with joyful confidence, "They said he comes back, Goosh. In 2007. That's why I retire." He fiddled with the thing in his hand as he spoke, and it screeched alarmingly, then it stopped abruptly.
Lochley exchanged a glance with Franklin. "Admiral," she began, warningly, then stopped when she saw the pain in his eyes, despite his recent words and the monitor's poor quality image. Between one moment and the next he had gone from estatic to slump-shouldered. Fear and depression were plain in his haunted expression.
Then, just as suddenly, he shook that away, and said defiantly, "If this job has taught me anything, it's that the future's not set in stone. The present and past change on me all the time, the future is even more uncertain. And who says he didn't come back in 2007? Either he came back or he died. Nothing else would get me to retire while he's still out there. In either case, I can't think of a single reason why I'd make a missing persons report." He nodded, having convinced himself of something. He fiddled with the colorful little machine again, and said, "Sorry, Ziggy. Accidently turned off the monitors there for a minute."