errorYou must be logged in to review this story.

Desert Night

By: Rhov

folder M through R › Quantum Leap

Rating: Adult

Chapters: 12

Views: 1,055

Reviews: 0

Recommended: 0

Currently Reading: 0

Category: M through R › Quantum Leap

Rating: Adult

Chapters: 12

Views: 1,055

Reviews: 0

Recommended: 0

Currently Reading: 0

Disclaimer: Quantum Leap is the creation of Don Bellisario. I make no money off of this.

A Different Home

"Travel can be one of the most rewarding forms of introspection." - Lawrence Durrell

Chapter 3

A Different Home

New Mexico

Stallion's Gate.

The Trinity Site.

Project Quantum Leap.

I remember that, while working on the Project, Al and I often joked about the irony that we were located downwind from Trinity Site, Ground Zero of the world's first atomic detonation. The blast cratered and melted the surrounding white sands, creating a jade-colored radioactive glass known as Trinitite. I once saw samples of Trinitite in a museum.

It's amazing how Death can create beauty.

As I rode Theodore Nyt's Harley down I-25, my mind was so distracted that I could hardly think of Mafia bosses or border runs. Around me laid Jornada del Muerto, a desolate expanse, no water, little vegetation, one of the most inhospitable places in the world. It was like Mother Nature smote the land and declared it off limits to Mankind. And Man, in our brash stubbornness, surged forth into that restricted land and built, of all things, the ultimate killing weapon...

The atomic bomb, a middle finger in Mother Nature's face.

Fifty years later, we again went against the natural laws in that same dead-man's land. Project Quantum Leap.

I remembered a lecture I gave—yes, it must have been around 1995, one of the few times I left the lab that year. There had been a brilliant young student there. I can still picture him, early twenties, long black hair, mocha skin, a deep scar across his clean-shaven cleft chin, a Yucatan accent. He asked me whether time travel was, as he put it, "a middle finger in the face of Father Time." The rest of the auditorium laughed. I think I was the only person there honestly struck by the young man's observation.

The Manhattan Project was a middle finger in the face of Mother Nature.

Project Quantum Leap was a middle finger in the face of Father Time.

It was one of the only times I considered abandoning the Project on the terms of it being against Nature, against Time, against God. I knew I had to organize my thoughts, think rationally, debate both sides of the matter so I could sort the issue out in my head and truly come to terms with it. So I wrote a thesis. Two months later, just before my first Leap, I published it under the title "Wards of Time."

It was not met with any huge accolades, but it gave me peace of mind. I had debated the concept of going against some great empowering Time Warden and came out with the conclusion that, as children of both Mother Nature and Father Time, our duty was to learn what our parents had to give. Man learned to control nature. Yes, there were damaging consequences, but Man was making attempts to repair our past destructive habits. Hopefully, we will look back on the twentieth century and see stories of rampant pollution and slash-and-burn deforestation as mere teen angst, growing pains, an embarrassment, harsh lessons to be learned.

It was inevitable that we children would seek our independence from Father Time as well, test our limits, break our "curfew." Like the Spanish friars who built missions and roads in the middle of this unforgiving land, we were destined to travel the pathways of Time, daring to go where no others thought they could, blazing trails other explorers would one day follow, so that one day we can teach others what we know. Yes, there was bound to be errors along the way, but I concluded my "Wards of Time" thesis optimistically. One day, traveling through time would be as simple as driving down this desert interstate.

Now here I was, a traveler through time. I was that friar, that trailblazer, that explorer, journeying along my own desolate road, learning as I went, only a few aides to guide me, hoping I reached a place where I could rest. I found that, not only could I observe, I could help. I could set right what once went wrong. I could touch and change the lives of ordinary people. I could make a difference!

Okay, so things went "a little caca" at first. Already, I have bumped into people who manipulate time for their own purposes instead of cherishing it and trying to improve mankind's lot. Like all children, we are bound to make a mistake or two. Hopefully, I can one day look back on these years of Leaping and laugh at it all, make notes, improve my methods, grow and mature.

Now I had come back. February 1995. Project Quantum Leap was on its way, construction nearly completed, three months to Genesis. The present "me" was somewhere not far from here, somewhere out in that restricted desert, buried under a New Mexican mountain, working endless nights with no clue things were about to go "a little caca."

I tried to search my Swiss-cheesed memory, but I could not remember anything concrete about Valentine's Day of 1995. Had I gone home? Had I eaten dinner with friends? Had I stayed in my lab, utterly oblivious to Time? I couldn't remember. I still can't even recall who I worked with at Stallion's Gate. Al occasionally mentions names, but the faces escape me. Sometimes, I really wish I could remember!

At least this place was familiar, the deepening color of the sky, the distance mountains, the smell of the desert.

It was home... but a different home.

End of Chapter 3

rate_review View Reviews (0) edit_note Write a Review flag Report Story

arrow_back Back to Archive folder Back to Quantum Leap