The intial few moments of any Leap were disorienting. The first clear sensation Sam Beckett had was that his wrists were being held tightly together above his head. In the same instant, he realized he was lying on a bed and that he was not alone. Overcome with panic, he jerked his arms, trying to free himself from whatever was gripping him.
         "Don't you fight me," a male voice growled.
         It was a hand, this man's hand holding his wrists. With his other hand closed fisted, the man struck Sam's face.
         Shock compounded with the initial panic and Sam froze, looking up to see the face of his attacker.
         Sam sucked in his breath. The panic he felt spread like a fire, reaching every nerve in his body. It was a familiar face: one he knew and one he feared.

The Present

         Admiral Albert Calavicci stepped into the Waiting Room to check on it's newest occupant. Dr. Verbeena Beeks stood in the Observation Booth above to monitor the exchange between the Admiral and their latest guest.
         Since Al's brain waves were in sync with Sam's, he saw the true vision of whomever Sam had leaped into. Everyone else on the Project saw whomever surrounded by Sam's aura. Sometimes the first clue to where Sam was came from the Al's identifying who (and sometimes what) was waiting in the room.
         Al had learned to expect the unexpected over the years, but sometimes he was still surprised by the person in the Waiting Room. Lying on the hospital bed, curled into the fetal position was an obviously terrified little boy.
         "Hi there," Al started as softly as his gravelly voice would allow. He surmised that the child was no more than ten years old.
         The little boy looked up. Standing before him was a dark-haired little man wearing a shiny turqoise suit with a silver shirt and a turqoise tie. He held a cigar in one hand.
         Considering a glance response enough, Al continued. "I know you must be frightened right now, but you don't have to be afraid. No one heare is going to hurt you." Al sat in the wooden chair next to the bed. All the furnishings in the room were plain and timeless so that they wouldn't seem odd to anyone from any time period. The room had a hospital like atmosphere thanks to the monitors. There were no windows and the only door which led into the Control Room was locked at all times.
         "My name is Al. What's yours?" he asked.
         The child swallowed, but said nothing. He stared the the sheet he was lying on. Silence was one way to keep from being hurt. He had to be quiet.
         "Can you tell me your name?" Al querried again.
         Silently, the child began to rock slightly.
         Great, Al thought. The fetal position, the rocking, the look of sheer terror... he had seen them all many times before and it meant one thing: There was no information to be gotten here any time soon. He looked up to the Observation Booth and motioned for Verbeena. It was Al's job to guide Sam. It was Verbeena's job to ease the minds of their guests.
         When Verbeena arrived, Al introduced her. "This is Dr. Beeks. If you need anything or want to talk, she's here to help you. She's not going to hurt you either."
         That said, he left the room. "Ziggy" he called to the space around him.
         "Yes?" the sultry feminine voice of the hybrid biocomputer answered. In another timeline, she had been a he. In every time line she had the "ego of Barbra Streisand."
         "Have you located Sam?"
         "Yes."
         "Well?" he asked impatiently. Sometimes getting information from Ziggy was like pulling teeth, not that she had any.
         "He is home, Admiral. He is in Elk Ridge, Indiana. It's February 27, 1962."
         "Why is he there?" Al picked up the handlink and prepared himself to go into the Imaging Chamber. There he would enter the time and place of Dr. Samuel Beckett, whoever, wherever, whenever he was.
         "I do not have enough data to speculate. He is an eight year old boy named Tommy Whitfield. That is all I can tell you at this time."
         "It's better than nothing," Al grumbled as he entered the massive chamber that would allow Sam and his surroundings to appear in the form of a hologram to Al. Al would appear in the form of a hologram to Sam due to the neurological connection between them that was part of Ziggy's structure.

February 27, 1962

         The Imaging Chamber door opened with a "whoosh" and Al stepped into 1962. He found Sam in a condition oddly similar to the child in the Waiting Room. "Sam... Sam," he called.
         Sam was on the bed, lying on his side with his eyes closed. Al thought he might be asleep at first, but realized his breathing was too shallow for sleep.
         "Sam, what's wrong with you?" Al reached out to his friend, but in his holographic state, his hand appeared to go through.
         He called to Sam for several minutes, but he was even less responsive than Tommy Whitfield had been. He waited for a while, hoping Sam would respond to him somehow, but there was nothing. Frustrated, he punched the code on the handlink to open the door. "I'll be back soon," he promised and then vanished.

The Present