"Inbox on the Edge of Forever"
A missing scene for the Stargate SG-1 movie, "Continuum"
"I'll just step in here a minute."Lt. Col. Samantha Carter stepped off of the main corridor of a building deep in the heart of Alaska's Elmendorf Air Force Base, and started to enter the ladies' room. Her companion turned too, as though to follow her. "Do you mind?" she asked, looking at him in feigned bewilderment.
"I'm supposed to stay with you at all times, Miss Carter. Those are my orders." The airman accompanying her looked apologetic but determined.
"I'm sure they didn't mean you had to follow me in here," Sam said, as sweetly as she could manage. She turned the charm up a notch, hoping to win over the young man. He looked at her hesitantly, and then looked both ways down the busy corridor.
"Ok, I'll, uh; I'll just wait down there." He turned to point at a visitors' reception area, but when he turned back around she was gone. He looked at his watch, shrugged, then started off down the hall.
Sam ducked into an empty office and quickly looked around the room. She had temporarily evaded the guard assigned to her, but it was just a matter of time before he realized she wasn't in the ladies' room. There on the wall was a map of the Base. If she could just…yes! She had guessed that the medical facility had to be close by, and she had just lucked up. There in black and white was the information she needed: directions to the Base Hospital. And it wasn't too far.
The handwritten label on the door of the room in the ICU said "Civilian-D. Jackson". She quietly slipped inside, waited as her eyes adjusted to the low lighting and then softly gasped. There in the bed lay her dear friend, her brother in every way but blood, her next of kin, Daniel Jackson. He was asleep, but even in the darkened room she could see where his left leg… wasn't. She felt the tears begin and willed them to stop.
Daniel's leg had been exposed to extreme frostbite a day and a half ago. His foot had broken through some rotten boards while onboard an abandoned ship, high in the Arctic Circle. The resulting dip into the frigid water and his inability afterwards to remove his boot in a timely manner had resulted in the freezing and then necrosis of the tissue of his lower leg. She supposed he was lucky to even be alive, but she wondered if he would feel that way when he woke up.
"Hey, Sam." Sam whirled around and sighed in relief as she recognized Cameron Mitchell, her friend and colleague, Daniel's friend and colleague. He was stretched out in a chair that was meant for family members to sleep on.
"I see you escaped from your handler, too," she whispered. "Have they left you alone at all?"
He slowly climbed out of the chair, stretched to his full height and came to stand in front of her. "Nah," he whispered. "I've had a shadow ever since we got here. I lost my good buddy, Billy-Bob, when he turned left at the commissary and I turned right."
"How long have you been here? Has Daniel been awake?"
"I've been here about ten minutes, I guess. 'Sunshine's' been asleep since I got here." Cameron turned to look at Daniel. "By the way, the man is a first-class snorer."
"Don't I know it," she replied with a wry grin. "Between General O'Neill and him…" Sam paused. For a few minutes she had forgotten. She had forgotten that her former commanding officer and good friend, Jack O'Neill, had been killed, just days ago. Well, he was dead in "her" timeline, alive but an indifferent stranger in this one. So many losses. She walked closer to the bed.
According to Daniel's chart, the amputation had been that morning at 07:00. It was now 18:00. She wondered if he had even been conscious today. She thought bitterly of her friend, facing surgery alone because she and Cam had been kept away. And why? Because she was a national danger? Because Cam was? Or was it because she was supposed to be dead?
Samantha wasn't even supposed to be in this timeline. Neither was Daniel. Neither was Cameron. The three of them were faced with a nearly impossible situation. They needed to convince the people in charge that this timeline was wrong, that a very dangerous alien had changed it, and that the very planet was in danger. Sam couldn't do it alone. She needed Cameron, and she needed Daniel.
She walked up to the head of his bed and gazed down at his sleeping form. He was lying on his back, his face turned away from her. Somehow he had pulled up one corner of his hospital gown and was clutching it against his stomach. A rather large expanse of skin was uncovered and as much as she was enjoying the show, she knew she needed to protect his modesty. She reached out and pulled the blanket up a little higher and then quietly cursed as he started to stir.
"Sam?" Daniel turned his head in her direction and squinted up at her. "What's going on?" He glanced down at his stomach and then back at her.
"Oh, that," she teased gently. "You were putting on a free show. Can't have that." She reached over and carded her fingers through his hair.
"Damned right" he answered, smiling faintly. "That's how I plan on making a living in this timeline: gonna be the world's first paraplegic male stripper."
"Hey, I'll be there every night." She quipped, trying to match his light mood. It seemed wrong, though. There was nothing funny about this. Her smile faded.
"Uh, I'll sell tickets, Sunshine. How about that?" Cam patted Daniel's hand awkwardly.
"Mitchell, hey." Daniel gave a small wave to his friend.
"How are you feeling?" Sam winced as she asked the question. Stupid. Stupid. How did she think he would be feeling?
Daniel stretched his spine and shifted slightly. "Well, I'm definitely on the good stuff." As though to make a point, he reached over and pressed the button on his morphine drip. Almost immediately his eyes went a little fuzzy, in her opinion. Blessed sleep; she guessed that was what he needed, but she needed something, too. Something from him. She felt a sense of urgency that she couldn't ignore. She leaned in closer.
"Daniel, listen. They're going to be coming for us any time now." She glanced over her shoulder at the door and then glanced at Cameron before addressing him again. "They've been interrogating Cam and me for several hours now—your turn's coming—and the thing is, I don't think…" She paused and checked to see if he was still awake. He was. He was looking at her intently. "If I were in their place…" She looked at Cameron and then looked out the window and watched the sun setting on a world that wasn't hers. "I would want to keep my timeline, no matter what." She glanced back at Daniel. "I'd try to keep us from changing it. I'd maybe imprison us, or…I don't know, maybe separate us. Anything to keep us from communicating, keep us from planning." She looked at Cameron for affirmation.
He nodded. "I agree. If we can't convince them to help us," he paused and looked somberly at his two friends. "we'll never see each other again."
"You're assuming we can't talk them into fixing it. Fixing…us." He gestured at his leg, or what was left of it.
Sam sat down heavily in the chair next to his bed and then rested her head next to his. "I'm just trying to be realistic," she whispered. "If they should separate us, we have to be able to communicate with each other."
"Let your fingers do the walking," he murmured. She could tell he was fading fast.
She straightened back up. "That's the yellow pages," she smiled faintly. "Besides, they'll monitor our phone calls…I would…"
"The internet..." offered Cameron.
"They'll monitor that, too, Cam."
"Yu'll think of somethin." The frown on Daniel's face smoothed as he drifted off.
"Yes," she promised her sleeping friend. "I will. I'll have to." She looked at Cam. "We'll have to."
6 months later
"Hi, John." Sam entered Common Grounds, one of the many coffee shops in Seattle which she frequented, and headed straight for the internet café that made up half of the establishment.
"Hi, Doll," answered John. He and Sam had struck up a conversation the first time she had come here, and had become friends almost immediately. Of course, he knew her as Amanda, a bookish, former math teacher, making a living tutoring rich kids so they could get into college. "New glasses?"
"Yeah, do you like them?" Sam pushed the unnecessary spectacles back in place. They were new. She liked them well enough, but they kept slipping down her nose. She was trying very hard not to look like her counterpart here: Astronaut Samantha Carter, dead hero. Her handler, Major Tucker, had tried to force her into dyeing her hair black, but Sam had held fast.
"I do. I like them better than the old ones. They suit you." John poured her a coffee and followed her to her favorite computer console. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks, John. I will." Sam turned on the computer and sipped her coffee as she waited for it to boot up. As she waited, she remembered her last day at Elmendorf. They had been in a large hanger, sitting around a table trying to enjoy some dry sandwiches, courtesy of the Air Force. General Hank Landry, USAF, RET., had been there. So had Daniel. So had Cam. It was the first time they had been together since that evening in Daniel's hospital room. Daniel had been on the road to recovery; but he was still in a wheelchair, and weeks of physical therapy were still in store for him. Landry had confirmed their worst fears. They were to be separated after all, forbidden even to try contacting each other.
As the three friends had sat there, waiting for their various rides to come and convey them to their separate destinations, the atmosphere in the room had been grim. They knew they were being separated for good.
"Well, Sam," said Daniel. "Have you come up with an idea?" Sam just looked at the table in defeat, shaking her head.
"Wormhole Extreme…" Cam looked like the cat who had swallowed the canary.
"Pardon?" Daniel looked at Cam like he'd grown an extra ear.
"I said, 'Wormhole Extreme'"
"I know what you said. I'm wondering why you said it."
"Wait," said Sam, a slow smile starting to spread. "I think I know where you're going with this."
Cam turned slightly, so that his back was to the airmen who had been assigned to watch them and lowered his voice. "Listen, we don't have much time, so I'll talk quick. As soon as I can, and it might be a while, I'll set up a website for 'Wormhole Extreme'. Just keep Googling, or whatever they do here, until you find it. I'll set it up so fans can talk with each other about the show."
"What show?" asked Daniel. "Wormhole Extreme doesn't exist here."
"Exactly!" Sam exclaimed softly. "It's perfect. We're the only ones who'll know to even look for it. We should be careful and stick to public computers though, be sure to keep moving around." She smiled at her two best friends. "We can do this!"
"Won't they know who we are? The people who'll be watching us?" Daniel looked skeptical.
"Don't you see?" asked Cameron. "Our user names will be…unique."
"Oh….Oh!"
"Do you understand now, 'Dr. Levant'?"
Sam smiled as she logged in to the Official Save Wormhole Extreme website. As always, she signed in as stacymonroe.
There were 2 messages waiting for her. She sipped her coffee and settled in to catch up with her friends.
Stacy, Just wanted to let you know that I'm through with my therapy. There's actually very little pain now. I love living in New York. Love the museums. I'm walking now, and I try to get some in every day. Don't have a job yet, but I'm getting one soon, I'm told. Pretty sure it's going to be in translation of some sort. I guess my friends were waiting for me to recover sufficiently to be back on my…feet.
I bought an interesting book last week. It's called The Truth about the Pyramids. Look it up. I think you'd find it interesting. I actually called the author to tell him I'd read it, but he wouldn't talk to me. Some kind of a weirdo effete snob, if you ask me…
I hear there might be a trip in my future. Might be meeting with some old friends to talk about saving Wormhole Extreme. Do you know anything about it? You should come.
Yours always,
Drlevant
Hey, Stace: Glad to know you're working some. Tutoring? Yikes. I'm working very part-time as a mechanic. Restored an old Mustang a few weeks ago, and now people are knockin' down my door. I think I'm going to have more work than I can handle. I think the divorcee down the street would like to knock down my door, too, if you know what I mean. There goes trouble.
Thanks for letting me have this username. I know it's not quite right, but frankly, I couldn't remember the new guy's name. At least you recognized it!
Levant says he's feeling a lot better. Doing all kinds of PT. Try not to worry about him, Stacy. Sunshine's a fighter.
Might be taking the Mustang on a road trip. There's this steakhouse I know you like. I think you said you and Levant got kicked out a few years ago. If they don't remember you (and I don't think they will), maybe we could meet there. Maybe Levant could come, too. I'll see what he says and let you know when.
Wormhole Extreme is and always will be my favorite show, and my very favorite character is the babe, er, female on the team. She rocks, and so do you, my dear Stacy. With you and Levant helping, we're gonna Save Our Show. God knows no one else will.
Keep the faith.
Coloneldanning
Sam smiled as she answered her mail. Trouble was coming. That was inevitable. But in the meantime she would get through this just fine, with a little help from her friends.
