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humantales) wrote2009-12-08 12:30 am
humantales) wrote2009-12-08 12:30 am
Entry tags:
Chapter Three
Oh, Boy! I'm a Time Lord!
Chapter Three
See the masterlist for details.
Chapter Three
Fortunately for Al's nerves, Ziggy's prediction was a little off. He and Beth were just finishing dinner when Ziggy's voice came through the handlink. "I believe we know what Dr. Beckett is supposed to do."
Al kissed Beth. "I'll see you later, sweetheart," he said as he left.
"Good luck," she said.
Once he'd started driving back, Al said, "What do you have for me?"
"It appears that Dr. Beckett was supposed to Leap into Captain Jack Harkness just outside of Edinburgh in February 1965," Ziggy said. "Because of the TARDIS traveling nearby in space and time, he was pulled off course and landed in the Doctor instead."
"Right," Al said. "You already told me this; go on."
"No, Admiral," Ziggy said "You and I both thought that meant the Jack Harkness who is currently traveling with the Doctor in his TARDIS. That is incorrect. He was supposed to Leap into the Captain Jack Harkness who is currently living in 1965. He was a consultant for the Torchwood Institute from 1899 until January 1, 2000, at which time he became the Director of Torchwood Three in Cardiff, Wales. He continued in that role until just under a year ago, at which time he resigned and, apparently, has left the Earth."
Al stared at the handlink. "You're not making any sense."
"According to the Torchwood Institute's main computer, and confirmed by UNIT's files, the Captain Jack Harkness who was once a companion of the Doctor cannot die."
"Ziggy--"
"There is sufficient documentation to confirm that Harkness is both human and, if not actually immortal, practically so. There have been experiments conducted on him--"
"You mean some scientist tried to kill him to see if he'd survive?" Al asked, horrified.
"Actually, they successfully killed him and confirmed that he would resuscitate," Ziggy said. Before Al could ask, Ziggy continued, "It is a misnomer that he cannot be killed. He simply does not stay dead. The list of ways in which he has been killed is extensive."
Al stared at the road. Finally, he said, "What does Sam need to do?"
*
Once he'd returned to the project, Al stopped in the computer room to talk with the Doctor. "What do you know about Harkness?"
"The Captain?" the Doctor asked, looking amused. "Just a 51st century conman and former Time Agent. Why?" Before Al could answer, the Doctor said, "No, don't tell me. Be careful, but ask what you need to know."
Al thought about it. "Is he human?"
"Yep." The Doctor went on to say, "Almost 95 percent, which is pretty good for his time."
"Which is the 51st century?" Al asked.
"So he said, and I've no reason to doubt him."
"Why is he on Earth now?"
"Because this is where the TARDIS is," the Doctor answered. "Look, I picked him up in 1941, where he was causing all sorts of trouble. Without really meaning to; he's a good kid at heart. He's been traveling with Rose and me for, oh, a few months now."
Al took a deep breath. "Can he die?"
The Doctor looked up sharply from the schematics he was examining. Al could see that they were the schematics of the Imaging Chamber. "Of course he can die!" the alien snapped. "Where'd that come from?"
Thinking quickly, Al shrugged, "Y'know, being from that far in the future and all--"
The Doctor shook his head. "Nope. Mortal as you."
Al continued on to the Imaging Chamber. He was now pretty sure why the Doctor refused to listen to what Ziggy was turning up: Harkness's immortality was in his future. "Center me on Sam, Gooshie." Smiling a little at the sight that Harkness, Rose and Sam made discussing dinner, Al sighed. "Sam, back to the TARDIS," he said, feeling tired. "We have to talk."
It took a few minutes to get Sam into the TARDIS and off by himself. First, there was the end of the debate about what to eat. Then, there was the problem of how to buy it, since none of the three of them had contemporary money. Sam eventually found a few pounds in his jacket, and they headed back to the TARDIS. Harkness and Rose were laughing and joking around, but Sam had picked up on Al's mood and was quiet. Once they got into the TARDIS, Sam asked Rose for a place he and Al could talk privately.
"Ask the TARDIS for a room," she said. "Since she knows the Doctor isn't here, and she knows you're trying to help him, she should help you. But, Sam, you don't have to go off without us. We can help; you can trust us."
Before Sam could say anything, Jack laid his hand on Rose's shoulder. "It's not a matter of trusting us; it's a matter of timelines." He looked up at Sam. "Go on, I understand, well, I think I understand the nature of the problem. I'll explain it to her."
To Al's disbelief, Rose's plan worked. Sam didn't seem too surprised, but Sam had apparently been pumping the other two for information on the ship. The last time Al had heard Sam so excited was when he was explaining the ideas behind Project Quantum Leap.
He hated to do it, but he finally interrupted Sam's description of how the ship was "bigger on the inside". "Sam, we've got a big problem."
Sam took a deep breath. "What do I have to do?"
"In two days, Captain Jack Harkness carries out some orders he's given while on loan from the Torchwood Institute to the British Army." Looking down at the handlink, Al continued. "He takes twelve orphans, twelve kids, and turns them over to a group of aliens in exchange for an anti-virus for an outbreak of influenza."
"What do they do to the kids?" Sam asked, his voice hushed.
"They don't kill them," Al answered, feeling sick. He'd seen the footage from Thames House, seen the child hooked up-- "They keep them alive to use them as drugs." Closing his eyes, he said, "Forty-four years later, about a year ago, they come back. Since we did what they told us to do last time, they expected us to do what they said this time."
"What did they want?"
"Ten percent of the Earth's children," Al said. "The governments were going to do it, too."
"They didn't though, right?" Sam asked.
"No," Al answered. There was no way Sam had of knowing if he told the truth or not; Al hadn't been telling him about any current events, but he was right. "The Director of the Torchwood Institute, Captain Jack Harkness, stopped them. The details are a little fuzzy--Torchwood was almost completely destroyed during this--but Harkness killed the alien on Earth by sending a wave like the one they used to kill the one child that didn't get sent." He swallowed. "He had to use a child to send it; again, the details are fuzzy as to why. The only child available in time, he killed his own grandson to protect the world."
Sam stared at him. "Ziggy does think I'm supposed to stop this, right? Because there's no way I'm not going to try. Two days; Al, I'm right here."
Al nodded. "Right time, right place; the trade-off happens in Scotland. Ziggy's getting the location. The Torchwood computer, which is the only place where this information is any more, hasn't been being updated as well as it could be for the last year. The British government almost succeeded in destroying them."
"How do I do it?" Sam asked.
"Not sure," Al answered him. "We know we can't send them the kids, but they don't send the anti-virus until after the kids are sent up and we need the anti-virus."
"Are you sure?" Sam was frowning.
"Well, yeah," Al said. "If we don't have it, millions will die."
"According to whom?"
"According to . . ." Al looked at him. "How do we know?"
"Is there any of the anti-virus left?"
Al punched the question into the handlink. It took a minute, but Ziggy's answer was discouraging. "No, and there's no record of its composition. Or of the strain of the . . ." He hit the handlink to get the rest of the sentence. "Strain of influenza. We have bupkis, Sam."
"We have to stop the kids from going to the aliens," Sam said, "and we have to get the anti-virus. They won't give us the anti-virus without the kids. If we give them the kids, they'll come back for more." After a moment, Sam asked, "Where's the Jack who's living here now and working for this Torchwood?"
Al punched in the question and waited. "He has an apartment in Cardiff, but he's not there now. No one seems to know where he is. He gets his orders tomorrow afternoon when he calls in."
"Al, can you center yourself on him?" Sam asked.
"Gooshie," Al called, "center me on Harkness." He found himself in the console room of the TARDIS, watching the younger Jack talking with Rose. "The other one!" Nothing changed. Sighing, he said, "Center me on Sam." When he was back with Sam, he shook his head. "Can't do it. Maybe tomorrow."
"I hope so," Sam said.
*
"I like that!" Rose said after Sam had left the control room. "He can trust us; he oughta know that!"
"I think he does," Jack said. He sighed. "But if he tells us the wrong thing, he could cause a paradox. A bad one. Reapers and all."
She'd told Jack about her father's death and the Reapers; he'd told her that he'd always thought they were mythical. Of course, he'd thought the same thing about Time Lords, so there was a lot Jack didn't know; something Rose clung to when he seemed to know so much more than she did. "But isn't that what he does?" she asked. "Y'know, change timelines and all."
"One of the great mysteries of time travel," Jack said, leaning back on the console. "Most of the details of how Project Quantum Leap worked had disappeared by my time, but what we do know is that, because Dr. Beckett started the experiment early, on an impulse apparently, something went wrong." He looked up and sighed. "He spent years Leaping in and out of people and 'putting right what once went wrong'. Because of how things were set up, without doing something pretty drastic, the only person who could contact him was Admiral Albert Calavicchi." Jack grinned. "Who was apparently quite the character. He was a Navy pilot and astronaut, he spent months or years, I don't remember, as a POW in Vietnam, and he was supposed to have quite the eye for the ladies." Rose felt her face heat up. "Oh, yeah, I'm sure he's been enjoying looking at you."
"He's not doing anything pervy, is he?" Rose didn't think Sam would do anything like that; he seemed like a genuinely nice person. An invisible man with an eye for the ladies, though, and one who Sam had said noticed Rose, was a little creepy.
"I doubt it," said Jack. "First, Dr. Beckett switches places, so the Doctor's back at the Project, and you and I both know that the Doctor wouldn't let anyone do anything of the sort. And even if that weren't true, the TARDIS wouldn't let him. Even if both of those weren't true, he was reputed to be desperately in love with his wife and a good, if a little over-protective, father to his four girls. And, finally, the records also show that he spent the years after Dr. Beckett Leaped doing everything within his power to get him back. He isn't going to waste time spying on you in the bath; he's just going to enjoy the view he has while talking with Dr. Beckett."
Rose thought about what Jack had said. "He never got home, did he?"
Jack shook his head. "No. When Admiral Calavicchi died, they lost contact with Dr. Beckett. A week later, the last person he's known to have switched with vanished. And that was the last he was heard of. One of the great tragedies of time travel."
"Doesn't seem fair," Rose said. "He spends all that time helping everyone and he's lost. Didn't anybody try to find him?"
"They did; they have," Jack said. "I'm amazed we've run into him; whether it was intentional or not, there seems to be a time lock on him. No one's ever been able to travel back to meet him. Back to his time, yeah, but they've never been able to get to him or anyone involved with the Project." Jack's grin this time was a little crooked. "Might be just as well. One of the things about my family that my mother was extremely proud of was that we could trace our ancestry back to him."
"He left kids behind?" Rose was shocked. Sam seemed way too nice to go abandoning a family.
"Not exactly." Jack laughed. "Time traveler, remember? And one of the side effects of the process was that his memory was, let's say, impacted. There were lots of things about his past that he couldn't remember, or could only remember part of the time. One of the things he apparently never remembered was that he was married."
"What? What did she think of all this?" Sam was about to get slapped—one of her mother's best.
"She was a scientist, too," Jack said, "and she believed in him. He was one of those amazing men that people just believed in, and then he'd live up to it. She insisted he never be told about her; she was afraid that he might not do what was needed if he remembered her. Anyway, on one of his Leaps, he Leaped right into bed with a young woman." Rose didn't think Jack could help the naughty grin he had. "Some stories say he Leaped right into—"
"I got it," Rose said, half laughing. "So?"
"So, she had a baby, a brilliant little girl she named Sammy Jo. Who went on to become a physicist, who went on to join Project Quantum Leap. And who went on to marry somebody, I don't remember who now, and have a couple of kids. And so on and so on—"
"And eventually you?" Rose asked.
"Yep." Jack's expression was serious again. "Rose, don't pester him. Offer to help, do what you can and I'll do the same, but-- His hair's getting gray; I think this has been going on for a while. He knows what he's doing. If he says we can't help, then we can't."
"Sure we can," Rose insisted. "We can make sure he eats and sleeps and has whatever we can help him get." And he hadn't eaten any of his tea; well, that was easily remedied. Now that she understood better, she could stay out of his way, but she was damned if he'd have to cope all on his own. That was what they did, they helped people, and he was one of the good guys.
Jack smiled. "I'll bet that'll mean more to him than either of us would ever believe."
*
Sam didn't sleep well that night. Children used as drugs, anti-virus held as ransom, millions of lives at stake, either in 1965 or in Al's present, whirled through his head all night. And Al wasn't telling him everything. That wasn't that unusual; Al frequently left out information he thought would upset Sam but not affect what he had to do, but he was almost as frequently wrong.
When he walked out to join the others for breakfast, he found a serious problem with the people around him knowing who he was and what he was doing.
"So," Rose asked him as he poured himself a cup of tea. Coffee was apparently frowned on; Jack made his own but Sam had had a cup. One was enough, and he liked tea well enough. "Did Al figure out what you have to do? What can we do to help?"
Al had been there when Sam woke up this morning. He hadn't said much beyond "Good morning," but now he was shaking his head. "Sam, this is a bad idea. Don't tell her anything!"
Sam glared at Al, but said to Rose, "I'm not really sure. Al's checking some scenarios today; he thinks it'll be a couple of days before he gets an answer."
"Liar," Jack said as he walked into the little kitchen. "Never try to con a con man; we know all the tricks." He smiled patronizingly at Sam as he started his coffee.
"Don't tell him anything!" Al shouted. Sam wished he wouldn't, but he rolled his eyes as Al said, unnecessarily, "We can't do anything to compromise his timeline." When Sam looked at him with his eyebrows raised, Al said, "Well, except where we have to. But he can't know it."
"Sounds interesting," Jack said. "See, Rose, you can see they're having this whole discussion. His friend's telling him all the reasons Sam can't tell us anything. Of course, Sam can't repeat any of them, because then we'd know something about our futures, which would be interfering with our own timelines, which would be bad and cause paradoxes. Sam doesn't need to be told any of this, because he's a genius, and he's already figured it out, but he's trying not to let us know what he's going to have to do so we won't offer to help or anything."
Al gaped at the other man. "How'd he know that?" he asked Sam, wide-eyed.
"Because," Jack seemed to answer Al, but looked in the wrong direction, "I was a Time Agent, so I was trained in dealing with these things. So, we probably can't help directly, but maybe there's something we can do." He looked over at Sam with a smile. "We could send you off nicely relaxed; what do you think about a threesome, Rose?"
Rose smacked him. "I think a Nobel Prize-winning scientist has better things to do than to spend all of his time having sex." She turned to Sam with a big smile. "But I do want to help."
She's way too young, Sam reminded himself. Even if she is pretty. And nice. And smart. And . . . He shook his head. "Sorry. Right now, I don't know. If I think of something, I'll let you know."
Jack gave him a knowing grin as Sam started making breakfast. Before he could get much beyond starting the toast, Al said, "Wait! Got him, and he's right here in the city."
"Sorry, Rose," Sam said as he headed out.
*
The local Jack Harkness was staying at a nice hotel. When Sam knocked on his door, Jack opened it and stared. Before Sam could say anything, Jack punched him, then picked him up and nearly threw him into the room. "What the hell did you do to me?" he asked snarling.
"Huh?" Sam asked. "Nothing."
Al said quietly, "He doesn't know you're Sam Beckett; don't forget, you still look like the Doctor."
Right. "I'm not the Doctor, Jack," Sam said.
"Right," Jack said, his laugh giving Sam chills. "Sure you're not the Doctor. You just look like him and sound like him, but you're not him so you don't have to tell me why the hell you abandoned me on a satellite full of corpses! I thought you'd forgiven me!"
While Sam tried to figure out how to convince him, Al said, "Ask him how long it's been."
Sam glanced up and said, "I'm not the Doctor; I'm Sam Beckett. I spent a little time with you, and Rose. Well, I'm spending it with you now for me. How long has it been for you?"
Jack's face crumbled. "And even if he comes back, I can't ask him now," he said, sounding broken. "It's too soon." He bowed his head for a few minutes. Finally, he looked up. "It's been just under a century since I saw you. And you can't even answer my questions." He sat down. "Go ahead, sit down, tell me what I've fucked up this time."
Sam sat down and looked at the other man. He really didn't look that different. His hair was styled differently, and he was dressed in a military uniform, probably a British one since Sam didn't recognize it, but otherwise, he looked the same. The air of exhaustion and defeat, however, was nothing like the cheerful, teasing man Sam had just left. "It's more what the government's told you to do. You didn't have any reason not to do it."
"You know my orders?" Jack asked. "Tell me, what do I have to do? If you're here, it must be bad."
"Don't tell him the future, Sam," Al reminded him.
"I know," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "You're going to be ordered to deliver twelve orphans to some aliens," he told Jack. "In exchange, they'll give you, or the British government, an anti-virus to a deadly flu epidemic."
"What do they want them for?" Jack asked. His posture had straightened and he was paying full attention, ready for his orders.
"I can't tell you," Sam said. "And it's not that they lie, but what that sets up in the future. You can't hand over the children, but we haven't figured out how to get the anti-virus. And we do need that."
Jack looked thoughtful. "When's this supposed to go down?"
"Tomorrow night."
Standing, Jack began to pace through the room. When the silence had stretched for several minutes, Sam asked, "How can you have been here for almost a hundred years, and look the same as you do in the TARDIS?"
"I don't know," Jack answered, his voice barely above a whisper. "A while after you left, we landed on this GameStation thousands of years in the future. The Earth was under attack by Daleks; they're the race that destroyed the Doctor's people. He was building a device to stop them, but he needed a distraction. That was me."
"Suicide mission," Al murmured.
Jack was looking out the window. "He got Rose home safely but me . . . Well, it's not like I had a home, or like I deserved . . . Anyway, I did my best, slowed them down as much as I could until they killed me. Then, I woke up." He looked over at Sam. "Been doing that ever since. Fought in both World Wars, I've done . . . Not much I'm really proud of, I guess. I'd kill myself, but it's kind of pointless. I come back and have to clean up the mess, so I've mostly stopped doing it."
"Mostly," Sam said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jack shrugged. "Yeah. This," he held up his left arm, with the bulky device strapped on it, "can travel through time and space. When it works. I set it for Cardiff, early 21st century; I know he goes there. There's this rift he refuels at; thought I'd get him there. I missed, though." Sighing, he said, "Landed in 1869, with it burned out. So, I thought, here's where I'll spend the rest of my life. A few years later, I was shot in the heart. And woke up. So, Dr. Beckett," Jack turned to Sam, his eyes red-rimmed, "I'll do whatever you need me to do. Anything's gotta be better than this living hell."
Sam stared at the other man, his stomach churning. He could hear Al swearing behind him. "When do you get your orders?" he asked, his voice not even sounding like his own.
"Tomorrow afternoon," Jack said. "Guess they don't want to give me time to think about it. Wonder why they wanted me." He closed his eyes. "Guess they figure I'm the best for dirty work."
Sam looked at Jack. He could feel his temper rising; he was no longer sure it was the children he was supposed to save. "Do you have any plans for today?"
Jack smiled. "Not really, but you do. You spend the day dodging Rose's questions and my passes. Which is a real shame, because I know we could have a good time."
Sam grinned back. "I'm sure you could, but I've got to be careful of timelines." He could hear Al choking behind him as Jack grinned back. "I'll see you . . .?"
"Tomorrow about noon," Jack answered. "Guess you go with me. Until then." He shook Sam's hand.
As Sam walked back to the TARDIS, he glared at Al. Before he could say anything, Al said, "Yeah, we help Jack. No one left behind."
Sam exchanged smiles with Al. They weren't nice ones.
Chapter Four
Chapter Three
See the masterlist for details.
Fortunately for Al's nerves, Ziggy's prediction was a little off. He and Beth were just finishing dinner when Ziggy's voice came through the handlink. "I believe we know what Dr. Beckett is supposed to do."
Al kissed Beth. "I'll see you later, sweetheart," he said as he left.
"Good luck," she said.
Once he'd started driving back, Al said, "What do you have for me?"
"It appears that Dr. Beckett was supposed to Leap into Captain Jack Harkness just outside of Edinburgh in February 1965," Ziggy said. "Because of the TARDIS traveling nearby in space and time, he was pulled off course and landed in the Doctor instead."
"Right," Al said. "You already told me this; go on."
"No, Admiral," Ziggy said "You and I both thought that meant the Jack Harkness who is currently traveling with the Doctor in his TARDIS. That is incorrect. He was supposed to Leap into the Captain Jack Harkness who is currently living in 1965. He was a consultant for the Torchwood Institute from 1899 until January 1, 2000, at which time he became the Director of Torchwood Three in Cardiff, Wales. He continued in that role until just under a year ago, at which time he resigned and, apparently, has left the Earth."
Al stared at the handlink. "You're not making any sense."
"According to the Torchwood Institute's main computer, and confirmed by UNIT's files, the Captain Jack Harkness who was once a companion of the Doctor cannot die."
"Ziggy--"
"There is sufficient documentation to confirm that Harkness is both human and, if not actually immortal, practically so. There have been experiments conducted on him--"
"You mean some scientist tried to kill him to see if he'd survive?" Al asked, horrified.
"Actually, they successfully killed him and confirmed that he would resuscitate," Ziggy said. Before Al could ask, Ziggy continued, "It is a misnomer that he cannot be killed. He simply does not stay dead. The list of ways in which he has been killed is extensive."
Al stared at the road. Finally, he said, "What does Sam need to do?"
*
Once he'd returned to the project, Al stopped in the computer room to talk with the Doctor. "What do you know about Harkness?"
"The Captain?" the Doctor asked, looking amused. "Just a 51st century conman and former Time Agent. Why?" Before Al could answer, the Doctor said, "No, don't tell me. Be careful, but ask what you need to know."
Al thought about it. "Is he human?"
"Yep." The Doctor went on to say, "Almost 95 percent, which is pretty good for his time."
"Which is the 51st century?" Al asked.
"So he said, and I've no reason to doubt him."
"Why is he on Earth now?"
"Because this is where the TARDIS is," the Doctor answered. "Look, I picked him up in 1941, where he was causing all sorts of trouble. Without really meaning to; he's a good kid at heart. He's been traveling with Rose and me for, oh, a few months now."
Al took a deep breath. "Can he die?"
The Doctor looked up sharply from the schematics he was examining. Al could see that they were the schematics of the Imaging Chamber. "Of course he can die!" the alien snapped. "Where'd that come from?"
Thinking quickly, Al shrugged, "Y'know, being from that far in the future and all--"
The Doctor shook his head. "Nope. Mortal as you."
Al continued on to the Imaging Chamber. He was now pretty sure why the Doctor refused to listen to what Ziggy was turning up: Harkness's immortality was in his future. "Center me on Sam, Gooshie." Smiling a little at the sight that Harkness, Rose and Sam made discussing dinner, Al sighed. "Sam, back to the TARDIS," he said, feeling tired. "We have to talk."
It took a few minutes to get Sam into the TARDIS and off by himself. First, there was the end of the debate about what to eat. Then, there was the problem of how to buy it, since none of the three of them had contemporary money. Sam eventually found a few pounds in his jacket, and they headed back to the TARDIS. Harkness and Rose were laughing and joking around, but Sam had picked up on Al's mood and was quiet. Once they got into the TARDIS, Sam asked Rose for a place he and Al could talk privately.
"Ask the TARDIS for a room," she said. "Since she knows the Doctor isn't here, and she knows you're trying to help him, she should help you. But, Sam, you don't have to go off without us. We can help; you can trust us."
Before Sam could say anything, Jack laid his hand on Rose's shoulder. "It's not a matter of trusting us; it's a matter of timelines." He looked up at Sam. "Go on, I understand, well, I think I understand the nature of the problem. I'll explain it to her."
To Al's disbelief, Rose's plan worked. Sam didn't seem too surprised, but Sam had apparently been pumping the other two for information on the ship. The last time Al had heard Sam so excited was when he was explaining the ideas behind Project Quantum Leap.
He hated to do it, but he finally interrupted Sam's description of how the ship was "bigger on the inside". "Sam, we've got a big problem."
Sam took a deep breath. "What do I have to do?"
"In two days, Captain Jack Harkness carries out some orders he's given while on loan from the Torchwood Institute to the British Army." Looking down at the handlink, Al continued. "He takes twelve orphans, twelve kids, and turns them over to a group of aliens in exchange for an anti-virus for an outbreak of influenza."
"What do they do to the kids?" Sam asked, his voice hushed.
"They don't kill them," Al answered, feeling sick. He'd seen the footage from Thames House, seen the child hooked up-- "They keep them alive to use them as drugs." Closing his eyes, he said, "Forty-four years later, about a year ago, they come back. Since we did what they told us to do last time, they expected us to do what they said this time."
"What did they want?"
"Ten percent of the Earth's children," Al said. "The governments were going to do it, too."
"They didn't though, right?" Sam asked.
"No," Al answered. There was no way Sam had of knowing if he told the truth or not; Al hadn't been telling him about any current events, but he was right. "The Director of the Torchwood Institute, Captain Jack Harkness, stopped them. The details are a little fuzzy--Torchwood was almost completely destroyed during this--but Harkness killed the alien on Earth by sending a wave like the one they used to kill the one child that didn't get sent." He swallowed. "He had to use a child to send it; again, the details are fuzzy as to why. The only child available in time, he killed his own grandson to protect the world."
Sam stared at him. "Ziggy does think I'm supposed to stop this, right? Because there's no way I'm not going to try. Two days; Al, I'm right here."
Al nodded. "Right time, right place; the trade-off happens in Scotland. Ziggy's getting the location. The Torchwood computer, which is the only place where this information is any more, hasn't been being updated as well as it could be for the last year. The British government almost succeeded in destroying them."
"How do I do it?" Sam asked.
"Not sure," Al answered him. "We know we can't send them the kids, but they don't send the anti-virus until after the kids are sent up and we need the anti-virus."
"Are you sure?" Sam was frowning.
"Well, yeah," Al said. "If we don't have it, millions will die."
"According to whom?"
"According to . . ." Al looked at him. "How do we know?"
"Is there any of the anti-virus left?"
Al punched the question into the handlink. It took a minute, but Ziggy's answer was discouraging. "No, and there's no record of its composition. Or of the strain of the . . ." He hit the handlink to get the rest of the sentence. "Strain of influenza. We have bupkis, Sam."
"We have to stop the kids from going to the aliens," Sam said, "and we have to get the anti-virus. They won't give us the anti-virus without the kids. If we give them the kids, they'll come back for more." After a moment, Sam asked, "Where's the Jack who's living here now and working for this Torchwood?"
Al punched in the question and waited. "He has an apartment in Cardiff, but he's not there now. No one seems to know where he is. He gets his orders tomorrow afternoon when he calls in."
"Al, can you center yourself on him?" Sam asked.
"Gooshie," Al called, "center me on Harkness." He found himself in the console room of the TARDIS, watching the younger Jack talking with Rose. "The other one!" Nothing changed. Sighing, he said, "Center me on Sam." When he was back with Sam, he shook his head. "Can't do it. Maybe tomorrow."
"I hope so," Sam said.
*
"I like that!" Rose said after Sam had left the control room. "He can trust us; he oughta know that!"
"I think he does," Jack said. He sighed. "But if he tells us the wrong thing, he could cause a paradox. A bad one. Reapers and all."
She'd told Jack about her father's death and the Reapers; he'd told her that he'd always thought they were mythical. Of course, he'd thought the same thing about Time Lords, so there was a lot Jack didn't know; something Rose clung to when he seemed to know so much more than she did. "But isn't that what he does?" she asked. "Y'know, change timelines and all."
"One of the great mysteries of time travel," Jack said, leaning back on the console. "Most of the details of how Project Quantum Leap worked had disappeared by my time, but what we do know is that, because Dr. Beckett started the experiment early, on an impulse apparently, something went wrong." He looked up and sighed. "He spent years Leaping in and out of people and 'putting right what once went wrong'. Because of how things were set up, without doing something pretty drastic, the only person who could contact him was Admiral Albert Calavicchi." Jack grinned. "Who was apparently quite the character. He was a Navy pilot and astronaut, he spent months or years, I don't remember, as a POW in Vietnam, and he was supposed to have quite the eye for the ladies." Rose felt her face heat up. "Oh, yeah, I'm sure he's been enjoying looking at you."
"He's not doing anything pervy, is he?" Rose didn't think Sam would do anything like that; he seemed like a genuinely nice person. An invisible man with an eye for the ladies, though, and one who Sam had said noticed Rose, was a little creepy.
"I doubt it," said Jack. "First, Dr. Beckett switches places, so the Doctor's back at the Project, and you and I both know that the Doctor wouldn't let anyone do anything of the sort. And even if that weren't true, the TARDIS wouldn't let him. Even if both of those weren't true, he was reputed to be desperately in love with his wife and a good, if a little over-protective, father to his four girls. And, finally, the records also show that he spent the years after Dr. Beckett Leaped doing everything within his power to get him back. He isn't going to waste time spying on you in the bath; he's just going to enjoy the view he has while talking with Dr. Beckett."
Rose thought about what Jack had said. "He never got home, did he?"
Jack shook his head. "No. When Admiral Calavicchi died, they lost contact with Dr. Beckett. A week later, the last person he's known to have switched with vanished. And that was the last he was heard of. One of the great tragedies of time travel."
"Doesn't seem fair," Rose said. "He spends all that time helping everyone and he's lost. Didn't anybody try to find him?"
"They did; they have," Jack said. "I'm amazed we've run into him; whether it was intentional or not, there seems to be a time lock on him. No one's ever been able to travel back to meet him. Back to his time, yeah, but they've never been able to get to him or anyone involved with the Project." Jack's grin this time was a little crooked. "Might be just as well. One of the things about my family that my mother was extremely proud of was that we could trace our ancestry back to him."
"He left kids behind?" Rose was shocked. Sam seemed way too nice to go abandoning a family.
"Not exactly." Jack laughed. "Time traveler, remember? And one of the side effects of the process was that his memory was, let's say, impacted. There were lots of things about his past that he couldn't remember, or could only remember part of the time. One of the things he apparently never remembered was that he was married."
"What? What did she think of all this?" Sam was about to get slapped—one of her mother's best.
"She was a scientist, too," Jack said, "and she believed in him. He was one of those amazing men that people just believed in, and then he'd live up to it. She insisted he never be told about her; she was afraid that he might not do what was needed if he remembered her. Anyway, on one of his Leaps, he Leaped right into bed with a young woman." Rose didn't think Jack could help the naughty grin he had. "Some stories say he Leaped right into—"
"I got it," Rose said, half laughing. "So?"
"So, she had a baby, a brilliant little girl she named Sammy Jo. Who went on to become a physicist, who went on to join Project Quantum Leap. And who went on to marry somebody, I don't remember who now, and have a couple of kids. And so on and so on—"
"And eventually you?" Rose asked.
"Yep." Jack's expression was serious again. "Rose, don't pester him. Offer to help, do what you can and I'll do the same, but-- His hair's getting gray; I think this has been going on for a while. He knows what he's doing. If he says we can't help, then we can't."
"Sure we can," Rose insisted. "We can make sure he eats and sleeps and has whatever we can help him get." And he hadn't eaten any of his tea; well, that was easily remedied. Now that she understood better, she could stay out of his way, but she was damned if he'd have to cope all on his own. That was what they did, they helped people, and he was one of the good guys.
Jack smiled. "I'll bet that'll mean more to him than either of us would ever believe."
*
Sam didn't sleep well that night. Children used as drugs, anti-virus held as ransom, millions of lives at stake, either in 1965 or in Al's present, whirled through his head all night. And Al wasn't telling him everything. That wasn't that unusual; Al frequently left out information he thought would upset Sam but not affect what he had to do, but he was almost as frequently wrong.
When he walked out to join the others for breakfast, he found a serious problem with the people around him knowing who he was and what he was doing.
"So," Rose asked him as he poured himself a cup of tea. Coffee was apparently frowned on; Jack made his own but Sam had had a cup. One was enough, and he liked tea well enough. "Did Al figure out what you have to do? What can we do to help?"
Al had been there when Sam woke up this morning. He hadn't said much beyond "Good morning," but now he was shaking his head. "Sam, this is a bad idea. Don't tell her anything!"
Sam glared at Al, but said to Rose, "I'm not really sure. Al's checking some scenarios today; he thinks it'll be a couple of days before he gets an answer."
"Liar," Jack said as he walked into the little kitchen. "Never try to con a con man; we know all the tricks." He smiled patronizingly at Sam as he started his coffee.
"Don't tell him anything!" Al shouted. Sam wished he wouldn't, but he rolled his eyes as Al said, unnecessarily, "We can't do anything to compromise his timeline." When Sam looked at him with his eyebrows raised, Al said, "Well, except where we have to. But he can't know it."
"Sounds interesting," Jack said. "See, Rose, you can see they're having this whole discussion. His friend's telling him all the reasons Sam can't tell us anything. Of course, Sam can't repeat any of them, because then we'd know something about our futures, which would be interfering with our own timelines, which would be bad and cause paradoxes. Sam doesn't need to be told any of this, because he's a genius, and he's already figured it out, but he's trying not to let us know what he's going to have to do so we won't offer to help or anything."
Al gaped at the other man. "How'd he know that?" he asked Sam, wide-eyed.
"Because," Jack seemed to answer Al, but looked in the wrong direction, "I was a Time Agent, so I was trained in dealing with these things. So, we probably can't help directly, but maybe there's something we can do." He looked over at Sam with a smile. "We could send you off nicely relaxed; what do you think about a threesome, Rose?"
Rose smacked him. "I think a Nobel Prize-winning scientist has better things to do than to spend all of his time having sex." She turned to Sam with a big smile. "But I do want to help."
She's way too young, Sam reminded himself. Even if she is pretty. And nice. And smart. And . . . He shook his head. "Sorry. Right now, I don't know. If I think of something, I'll let you know."
Jack gave him a knowing grin as Sam started making breakfast. Before he could get much beyond starting the toast, Al said, "Wait! Got him, and he's right here in the city."
"Sorry, Rose," Sam said as he headed out.
*
The local Jack Harkness was staying at a nice hotel. When Sam knocked on his door, Jack opened it and stared. Before Sam could say anything, Jack punched him, then picked him up and nearly threw him into the room. "What the hell did you do to me?" he asked snarling.
"Huh?" Sam asked. "Nothing."
Al said quietly, "He doesn't know you're Sam Beckett; don't forget, you still look like the Doctor."
Right. "I'm not the Doctor, Jack," Sam said.
"Right," Jack said, his laugh giving Sam chills. "Sure you're not the Doctor. You just look like him and sound like him, but you're not him so you don't have to tell me why the hell you abandoned me on a satellite full of corpses! I thought you'd forgiven me!"
While Sam tried to figure out how to convince him, Al said, "Ask him how long it's been."
Sam glanced up and said, "I'm not the Doctor; I'm Sam Beckett. I spent a little time with you, and Rose. Well, I'm spending it with you now for me. How long has it been for you?"
Jack's face crumbled. "And even if he comes back, I can't ask him now," he said, sounding broken. "It's too soon." He bowed his head for a few minutes. Finally, he looked up. "It's been just under a century since I saw you. And you can't even answer my questions." He sat down. "Go ahead, sit down, tell me what I've fucked up this time."
Sam sat down and looked at the other man. He really didn't look that different. His hair was styled differently, and he was dressed in a military uniform, probably a British one since Sam didn't recognize it, but otherwise, he looked the same. The air of exhaustion and defeat, however, was nothing like the cheerful, teasing man Sam had just left. "It's more what the government's told you to do. You didn't have any reason not to do it."
"You know my orders?" Jack asked. "Tell me, what do I have to do? If you're here, it must be bad."
"Don't tell him the future, Sam," Al reminded him.
"I know," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "You're going to be ordered to deliver twelve orphans to some aliens," he told Jack. "In exchange, they'll give you, or the British government, an anti-virus to a deadly flu epidemic."
"What do they want them for?" Jack asked. His posture had straightened and he was paying full attention, ready for his orders.
"I can't tell you," Sam said. "And it's not that they lie, but what that sets up in the future. You can't hand over the children, but we haven't figured out how to get the anti-virus. And we do need that."
Jack looked thoughtful. "When's this supposed to go down?"
"Tomorrow night."
Standing, Jack began to pace through the room. When the silence had stretched for several minutes, Sam asked, "How can you have been here for almost a hundred years, and look the same as you do in the TARDIS?"
"I don't know," Jack answered, his voice barely above a whisper. "A while after you left, we landed on this GameStation thousands of years in the future. The Earth was under attack by Daleks; they're the race that destroyed the Doctor's people. He was building a device to stop them, but he needed a distraction. That was me."
"Suicide mission," Al murmured.
Jack was looking out the window. "He got Rose home safely but me . . . Well, it's not like I had a home, or like I deserved . . . Anyway, I did my best, slowed them down as much as I could until they killed me. Then, I woke up." He looked over at Sam. "Been doing that ever since. Fought in both World Wars, I've done . . . Not much I'm really proud of, I guess. I'd kill myself, but it's kind of pointless. I come back and have to clean up the mess, so I've mostly stopped doing it."
"Mostly," Sam said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jack shrugged. "Yeah. This," he held up his left arm, with the bulky device strapped on it, "can travel through time and space. When it works. I set it for Cardiff, early 21st century; I know he goes there. There's this rift he refuels at; thought I'd get him there. I missed, though." Sighing, he said, "Landed in 1869, with it burned out. So, I thought, here's where I'll spend the rest of my life. A few years later, I was shot in the heart. And woke up. So, Dr. Beckett," Jack turned to Sam, his eyes red-rimmed, "I'll do whatever you need me to do. Anything's gotta be better than this living hell."
Sam stared at the other man, his stomach churning. He could hear Al swearing behind him. "When do you get your orders?" he asked, his voice not even sounding like his own.
"Tomorrow afternoon," Jack said. "Guess they don't want to give me time to think about it. Wonder why they wanted me." He closed his eyes. "Guess they figure I'm the best for dirty work."
Sam looked at Jack. He could feel his temper rising; he was no longer sure it was the children he was supposed to save. "Do you have any plans for today?"
Jack smiled. "Not really, but you do. You spend the day dodging Rose's questions and my passes. Which is a real shame, because I know we could have a good time."
Sam grinned back. "I'm sure you could, but I've got to be careful of timelines." He could hear Al choking behind him as Jack grinned back. "I'll see you . . .?"
"Tomorrow about noon," Jack answered. "Guess you go with me. Until then." He shook Sam's hand.
As Sam walked back to the TARDIS, he glared at Al. Before he could say anything, Al said, "Yeah, we help Jack. No one left behind."
Sam exchanged smiles with Al. They weren't nice ones.
Chapter Four