Sam shook his head to clear it of the normal post-Leap disorientation. In front of him was a console that looked like it was for some kind of computerized system. The metal was bronze, some of the components were of the same metal, but others were . . . improvised. The readouts were incomprehensible-all circles within circles. Sam thought that if he could just have some time, he might be able to figure them out; he thought they were mathematical rather than linguistic.
Finally, in the center of the console was a tall, translucent cylinder. It was lit from below by a green light, and had been coming to a stop as Sam Leaped in. Since he could sense other people in the room, he stayed still and waited to see what was happening.
"So, Doctor, where are we now?" a young woman said as she laid her hand on his arm. Sam looked over at her. She was a pretty, very young woman, early twenties at most, with dyed blonde hair and big, brown, worried eyes. "Is something wrong?"
"Uh, think I hit my head when we . . . just give me a minute," Sam said, giving the woman a distracted smile and turning back to the incomprehensible console.
"That wasn't even one of your rougher landings," said the man to his left. Sam had been playing ostrich, hoping that if he ignored him, the other man would return the favor.
Glancing to his left, Sam got an impression of a man of about his height, quite a bit younger than himself, though still older than the woman, extremely handsome and dressed down in T-shirt and jeans. "Sometimes it's the smooth ones you have to watch out for," Sam muttered. Where was Al? He was lost here; there were no clues to help him out.
The other man chuckled. "Good one, Doctor," he said, as the woman said, "Jack? Something's wrong . . ."
"Rose?" Jack said, a question implied that Sam didn't understand. Then Jack grabbed Sam and nearly threw him away from the console. Stepping back out of range of fists or kicks, Jack smoothly pulled a gun from behind himself and aimed it straight at Sam. A moment ago Jack had looked like decoration, a pretty boy; now, he looked like a trained soldier. "Who are you," Jack asked Sam, "and what have you done with the Doctor?"
"Oh, boy," Sam groaned, hoping that Al would hurry up. When the guns came out this early, it was usually trouble.