Leaping Into the Fire by Kirk G.
First, the Kirk G. revised version of the Quantum Leap “Saga Sell”.
Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett constructed a secret government project in the New Mexico desert. He prematurely stepped into a nuclear accelerator, and disappeared. He woke one morning, suffering from partial amnesia and in the life of someone else. He then discovers a friend from his own time,
Al, who appears as a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. He finds that he is to leap from life to life, facing their problems through their eyes, and “putting right what once went wrong.” So Sam goes on, with Al as his only companion, always hoping that his next leap, will be the leap home.
And that is Quantum Leap.
The man was blue. There he was, glowing bright blue, as if he were affected by some new type of radiation. Then he, the one who was observing all this, saw electricity passing through the man’s body. Small beams of light shot out from him in separate directions, and still more light started to cover the man, like a blanket of energy. It was so strange, watching this whole process happening around the blue form, which was standing, frozen, before him. The light, it was blinding.
Suddenly the man was completely covered, the light was at its brightest, and he could no longer see. He wanted to cover his eyes, to shield from the light that was searing into them, but he knew that he had to watch. Finally, the white receded into nothingness, the
last of the electricity passed through, and the blue light faded. He then looked in horror at what stood there in front of him. It was his own body, clad in a black suit, tie… and tape recorder.
He woke with a start, and quickly grabbed the small black box beside his bed. He looked over at the clock sitting on the table. Turning on the lamp, he pushed in the recording button, and a small red light flipped on. He then began to speak into the built in microphone.
“Diane, it’s 2:34 AM, and I have just awaken from a very interesting dream, one which carries with it a feeling of great importance…”
* * *
It seemed he would have to be sleeping, in order for this to happen. This was a realm that only existed in the mind, one where logic was suspended in the air, bumping elbows with disbelief. It was a red room. There were no walls here, only the drapes, which gave him the feeling that anything could be lurking just beyond the red cloth. He was not alone in this place, but the company kept here was just as unsettling. There was a strange little man and a beautiful young woman. He watched, fascinated, as her arms bent backwards. She was shivering oddly, as was the dwarf. The three of them were surrounded by a strange, vibrating force. He had a strange taste in his mouth, metallic, but very distant.
Finally, the trembling and the vibrations stopped. The little man turned to him, and spoke.
“You should not be here, not yet.” The little man’s voice was distorted, hard to understand. The dwarf looked at the young woman. He too looked at her. “She’s been taken rudely. You may see her later,” said the man. At this the woman shook her head and finally spoke.
“You will not. I am completely empty.” The woman rose from her seat, and music began to fill the small room, a haunting melody that defined classification. The woman started to walk towards him, while the little man helped himself out of his seat, slowly, carefully. As the dwarf lowered his feet to the ground, he began to dance, moving his entire body to the sound of snapping fingers. The lights started to flash, and the young woman stood beside this latest visitor. She made a gesture with her hands, one that seemed familiar to him, but one that would not make sense until later. She crouched down, and whispered into his ear. ” Listen to the photons.”
In a flash of light, Dr. Sam Beckett vanished.
Part One: “Welcome To Twin Peaks, Sam”
Agent Dale Cooper had analyzed the dream as he always did; but had not as yet found the dream to have any relevance to the case. But still, he had a strange feeling about it, a sense of foreboding. Eventually he pushed it away; he had more pressing matters to attend to.
Cooper descended the steps of the main stairway into the lobby of The Great Northern Hotel. It was 8:30, and he decided to get some breakfast before reporting to the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Station, where Sheriff Truman would be waiting. He crossed through the doorway into the dining area and sat down at one of the many small tables. A waiter
then arrived to take his order.
He ordered eggs and sausage, and his usual cup of black coffee, “Black as midnight on a moonless night.” A short time later, the waiter returned with Cooper’s food and coffee. “Thank you.” The waiter walked off to another table and he took a forkful of fried eggs.
He then picked up his cup, lifted it to his mouth, and was surrounded by blue light. Cooper was gone.
* * *
The blue light slowly faded, leaving Sam at a small table. He felt hot liquid slide down his throat. Sam was startled, and he gasped for air. A few people turned at this and stared. Sam took a sip from the glass of water sitting to the side of the table. He gave the people an “I’m-okay-please-stop-staring” look and decided to examine his surroundings.
He was seated down in a hotel dining room. Other small tables full of the staring people surrounded him. Sam looked at what rested before him. There was a plate of eggs and sausage, and the cause of Sam’s recent choking fit, a cup of strong black coffee. He felt hungry, ‘When was the last time I’ve eaten?’ asked his amnesiac mind, and shrugging, he decided he would go ahead and finish the meal before finding out what his new mission was.
The people soon lost interest with Sam’s condition, and for that he was thankful. He was about to finish the last bite when he heard a familiar sound, the strange metallic ‘swoosh’ of the Imaging Chamber door. The Imaging Chamber, a gateway of sorts between Sam’s time and the one he inhabited now, was only visible as a white square of light. No one around him noticed, for this was only visible to Sam.
Admiral Albert Calavicci stepped out, wearing a maroon jacket, a yellow shirt, and a tie sporting some kind of strange animal print. But the most unsettling thing he was wearing was a look of complete shock.
“Sam! My God, we found you!” he exclaimed. This startled Sam. What was wrong? He stood up, and gestured for Al to follow him. They found an empty room, and Sam stepped in, while Al, being a holographic illusion in this time, walked through the wall.
Al was still talking, bordering on hysterics. “… I mean we’ve been searching- we were so worried- and then we-”
“All right, all right, calm down,” Sam interrupted, ” One thing at a time. Now what do you mean by ‘we finally found you’?”
Al composed himself, and continued. “What I mean is that you have been missing for two months!”
Sam was taken aback at this statement, and gasped a reply. “Two- two months- what do you mean?!”
“Just like I said. You have been gone! Completely gone! Ziggy couldn’t track you; Gooshie and I were searching your entire lifetime, but still nothing! For two months Sam, we have been looking for you. And finally, you just popped up here. But the weirdest thing is, the last time you leaped, no one leaped back to us.”
A look of bewilderment came over Sam’s face, “No one in the Waiting Room? But that would have to mean that I…”
Al nodded slowly, “Sam… you were gone as yourself. That’s the only explanation.”
This was too much, and he had to sit down. “Ohhh boy.” He sudenly had the scariest feeling, a feeling he could not explain. It was… a memory. His voice distant, he asked, “Where am I now?”
Al noticed this, and was concerned. “Sam, are you all right?” he asked. Staring, Sam nodded. Al was not convinced that he was, but instead of inquiring further, he looked down at the small, multicolored, flashing handheld device he carried. This was the handlink, a link to the artificial intelligence Ziggy and all of her information, one that made popping and squeaking noises as he pressed buttons. He read the scrolling message on the LCD display aloud to Sam.
“Okay, the date is February 28, 1989. Your name is Special Agent Dale Cooper; you’re from the FBI. You have recently been assigned to the little northern town of Twin Peaks, Washington, right here.”
Sam came out of his trance, and looked up, asking, ” Why is he here?”
Al pressed some more buttons, and read, “Ah, he’s here to investigate the death of seventeen year old high school student Laura Palmer. Seventeen? That’s young,” he said, shaking his head, “Okay, now around this time, you are to meet up with the local sheriff, Harry S. Truman.” Al chuckled, “Shouldn’t be too hard to remember a name like that. Anyway, you are to go to the local sheriff stay-”
Al saw the scrolling message stop scrolling, stuck. He slapped the side of the handlink, which then squealed in protest. He read it again, “…shun. Ah, sheriff station.”
Now dimly aware of what to do, Sam inquired, “How do I get there?”
* * *
Sam pulled up in front of the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Station at 8:01 am. Sam got out of Cooper’s car and entered the building. Once inside, he stepped up to the front desk. Sitting there was a woman Sam surmised was the secretary. She looked up, and greeted him.
“Good morning, Agent Cooper.”
“Good morning…” he looked down at the small name plaque labeled ‘Lucy Moran’. “…Lucy,” he finished.
“Sheriff Truman is waiting for you.” He thanked her, and met up with Truman in another room. On the wall hung the head of a deer. ‘Northern towns’, Sam thought to himself, and shook his head. He then turned his attention to Truman.
“Morning, Cooper. Okay, right now, Andy is at the Palmers’. He’s making the sketch of the man Mrs. Palmer thought she saw.”
“The man in Laura’s room. The man Mrs. Palmer says is the killer.”
“The killer… oh, oh right. The killer,” said Sam, as if he knew all along. Harry looked at him questioningly for a moment, but then dismissed it.
“Anyway, I told him that I’d meet him there.”
“All right, I’ll just stay here and, uh, do- do some FBI stuff,” replied Sam.
Truman thought of commenting on this, but decided against it. Instead, he left.
* * *
Deputy Andy Brennan sat in the living room of the Palmer residence, listening intently to Sarah Palmer and drawing as she spoke. She lay on the small couch, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Leland Palmer was sitting by her side, her hand firmly grasped by his. Andy looked up just for a moment when Sheriff Truman entered the room.
“…and I remember… his face!” Mrs. Palmer covered her face with her hands; “He was like an animal!” Mr. Palmer also looked up at Truman, his hair tussled, his face distraught and unshaven. He greeted him, his voice sounding hollow and distant.
“Hello Leland,” greeted Truman, “Andy, what do you have?” Andy handed him the finished sketch, and he looked at it. He shuddered in spite of himself. The man in the scetch, was a palette of shadows, surrounded by stringy gray hair and dark, dark eyes that the sketch could only hint at.
“She says she had a vision of him, that he was crouching by Laura’s bed,” explained Andy. Leland stood up, and spoke.
“Did- did you tell them about the necklace?” he asked of his wife. He looked around at everyone else, and held up two fingers. ” She’s had two visions.” With that, Leland walked out of the living room. Sarah Palmer pulled herself off of the couch.
“Leland,” she called after him. Sarah followed him out of the room. But he was already gone.
“Go ahead, Mrs. Palmer,” offered Truman. Sarah turned to them, and began to describe the second vision.
“It’s night… A flashlight beam moves across the ground. And a hand… a gloved hand… picks up a rock, and takes out a necklace… It’s broken in half. It was Laura’s.”
* * *
Sam was sitting at a large table, in a room at the Sheriff’s Office. Sitting across from him was, “Dr. Lawrence Jacoby. He was Laura Palmer’s psychiatrist. Ziggy formulates that you’re supposed to ask him for information about her,” Al finished. He was standing beside
Sam, every now and again punching buttons on the handlink.
Sam spoke, “So… ah… doctor. What can you tell me about Laura?” Dr. Jacoby thought for a moment.
“Well, to put it simply, Agent Cooper, Laura…” Jacoby crouched down beside Sam, and spoke, “…had secrets. And around those secrets she built the fortress that I was never able to penetrate. And for which I consider myself… an abject failure.” Al walked around
Jacoby, studying him closely.
“He knows something he’s not telling you. Ask him about Laura’s death.” Sam looked hard at the doctor.
“Do you have any information concerning Laura’s death specifically?” he asked. Jacoby stood up straight. He then explained how Laura had informed him about a man who drives a red sports car. Jacoby had followed him one night, but had lost him on an old logging road.
“That was the night before Laura’s death,” he finished.
“Well, ah, thank you for your cooperation, Doctor.”
“Glad to help. For Laura.” A deputy was standing by the door, and Sam gestured for him to escort Jacoby out of the building. Lucy’s voice came over the small intercom speaker on the table.
“There’s a Gordon Cole on the phone for you. I can transfer him. Not him, of course, but his voice.”
Sam looked at Al, who was using the handlink, commanding Ziggy to search for the name Gordon Cole. After a moment, he looked up.
“Gordon Cole. Cooper’s supervisor at the FBI,” he responded.
“All right Lucy, patch him through.” A man’s voice came out of the speaker.
“COOP? YOU THERE?” Sam was startled. At first he thought the volume control was out of whack, but realized that it was the man who was yelling, as if trying to be heard over a loud noise. If that was the case, the man was succeeding.
“COOP?” the man said again.
“Uh, yes Gordon?”
“GOOD TO TALK TO YOU AGAIN.”
“Ah, yeah,” Sam responded, raising his voice a bit, ” So, what… what’s up?”
“COOPER, WE HAD THE PICTURES OF THE BITES ON THE GIRL’S SHOULDER ANALYZED. THEY’RE BIRD BITES, COOP.”
Al and Sam exchanged a puzzled glance. “Bird bites, Gordon?”
“YEAH, LIKE SHE WAS PECKED. I’LL LET YOU KNOW MORE WHEN WE GET SOME INFORMATION.”
“Thanks Gordon.” Sam heard a click as they were cut off. He turned to Al. “This leap just keeps getting weirder and weirder. Al, I’ve been here for hours. Does Ziggy have any idea what I’m here to do? Is it to solve Laura’s murder?”
Al shook his head. “No, in the original history, her case was solved. We don’t have many details yet, though. You know how these small town records are. Ziggy’s trying to interface with one of the FBI’s computers. We do have something from the Sheriff Station’s files. It seems, approximately thirty minutes from now-” Al stopped, and exclaimed in confusion, “What?!”
Sheriff Truman burst into the room. “Cooper, I just got a call. Hawk’s found our one- armed man.”