Chapter 13 – Lifeline
Elapsed time on board (ETOB): LD Plus 46 days. Elapsed time at origin (ETAO): LD Plus 63 days
Finally, Sam's request for a meeting at the Chinese Ambassador's residence had been granted. She had left no avenue of approach unexplored to get this appointment, having shamelessly pressurised all contacts known to her in military, diplomatic and media circles. A private meeting at the Residence could leave other options available if she met resistance to her proposals, whereas a full-blown, minuted encounter in the Embassy would probably not.
Nevertheless, she felt more nervous than on any of her past SGC missions as the doorman graciously escorted her into a large, well-furnished reception room. She was, truth to admit, still reeling from the way that Daniel and Sarah had laid into her on the night that she had resigned and gone to them for support and maybe some sympathy. Daniel's attitude had been the biggest surprise: she had never quite realised that his frequent outbursts and spats with Jack over their years together concealed such a respect for the man, practically bordering on the deeper bond between brothers. His few choice sentences describing Jack's inability to form any lasting social relationships after she had decided that he had no potential place in her private life made her feel sick, and had led her to start the process of reviewing – really in depth for the first time – how Jack would have viewed her sudden decision three years before to suddenly take up with Pete and just present the man she assumed 'would always be there for her' with a fait accompli. No explanations or revelations that he should abandon what he had been so obviously 'keeping in the room' these last years – at her request, too. She had simply flaunted Pete's existence in front of him.
Although she had come near to going through with Pete's pleas to marry him, their 'engagements' had been on-off affairs, and she had been the one to break or defer it each time. That was the unfairness of her actions, Sarah had added. Not that she shouldn't have the choice to be with whomsoever she wanted, but that she had used Jack as an assumed backstop, a comfort to have around while she indulged her pleasures and kept her options open with someone else. Perhaps knowing him well enough to rely on the fact that he would silently accept her change of heart without audible complaint. How right she had been on that item. But what had destroyed Sam so thoroughly that evening was Daniel's description of the minute signs that the spark had gone from Jack's life: never openly admitted by the man himself, but visible probably only to Teal'c and Daniel in their regular but reducing contacts with him over the last three years.
As for Pete, he loved her too, as his current persistent campaign for them to get back together showed. She could wound him in the same way if she wasn't going to tell him unequivocally that it was finally over between them. More and more the question she barely admitted that she had been asking herself appeared in her mind: if Jack had been in a position to ask, would she have hesitated in marrying him? There didn't seem to be much uncertainty about how that scenario would play out now. Irritable, quirky, sarcastic and somewhat unpredictable older man versus adoring younger lover. Or put another way, an endlessly loving, soul-scarred enigma providing the prospect of a rarely-dull partnership versus dependable normality. What she couldn't understand now was why the latter had seemed so urgent three years ago, when it had such little space in her desires now.
And when the moment of revelation had come – that of Jack's participation in an expedition with little prospect of return in the foreseeable future – she had acted as though he was walking out on a relationship that she had so positively denied him but nonetheless had expected him to still cherish. Her attempts to retain a link by taking the job as base communications officer to the Prometheus, and the belated sincerity of the messages of love she had been sending him, were too little, too late.
Just one obstacle left, then. Apart of course from the huge effort and costs to repair the Prometheus, the high risks for the crew, another woman claiming priority in Jack's life and the possibility, God forbid, that even if they found the Bio-pod it would no longer be sustaining his life.
Hardly the frame of mind in which to start a conversation that could make or break her future.
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'Day 46. Unusual vibrations and noises from the gyroscope compartment have become more frequent, I noticed today. The manual says that this is an early warning of possible bearing failure and to replace them. Spares were on Prometheus, none on Bio-pod. Realised late today that the focal point data collector was also abandoned some 16 km ahead of the two ships and should still be there. It has (hopefully) functioning gyroscopes and so I will use mini-pod to attempt retrieval. Gyroscopes essential to maintain stability of nose cone pointing in direction of travel.
Problem: find way to transfer fuel from Bio-pod attitude control thruster feed lines to mini-pod. Carter would know how to do it. Mini-pod was designed to refuel from Prometheus only.
First potatoes from growing decks eaten. Not bad at all. Also discovered how to use food blender/masher gizmo in galley. Can now make soup out of anything, including fingers if not careful. I'm thinking of becoming a gourmet.
Fruit brews are fermenting well in plastic containers, but zero-g means carbon dioxide gas does not bubble off like it does under normal gravity. Solved problem by carrying them when running round inner hull exercise track. Carrying added mass also good for muscle development.
Telescope observations of Cepheid variable stars continue and nice database building up. Archaeologists: if you can retrieve the data from this computer, it will give picture of state of M31 (Andromeda) galaxy observed in Earth year 2008 from a distance of approximately 1.7 million light years. It is a breathtaking sight to the naked eye from here and I am glad to have experienced it. If it the last thing that I see I will be content.'
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Sam's look of surprise was quickly suppressed when Celia Chen entered the room unaccompanied. She had been expecting a meeting with His Excellency to discuss her participation in the rescue mission.
Celia smiled politely as she approached, and Sam rose from the elegant sofa to shake her extended hand. Up close, she was some four inches shorter than herself and her green eyes seemed to sparkle in the light, contrasting against her jet black hair.
"Hello, Samantha." said Chen. "I know that you were expecting the Ambassador, but it was felt that it would be more appropriate if just the two of us discussed your request."
"Please call me Sam, Dr. Chen." she replied. "I am no longer in the Military and I'll also have to get used to being Dr. Carter again, I suppose."
"And you can call me Celia. It is strange that although we spoke briefly over the sub-space communicator, we have never previously met." came the response. "Please, take a seat. May I serve you a drink? There is alcohol, fruit juice, or tea in the traditional style."
"Tea would be fine, thank you." said Sam, trying to look relaxed whilst thinking how Jack could easily have been captivated by this stunningly beautiful lady. She studied her as Celia moved to the antique sideboard and brought across a silver tray holding a beautiful ceramic teapot and matching cups. She placed the tray gently on a small side-table and poured for both of them.
"I trust that you and the other returning crew members have recovered from the ordeal of the return journey." said Sam after observing the custom of taking leisurely sips of the excellently-flavoured brew. "And I saw Vittorio's funeral on the broadcast from Italy. It was very moving."
"Yes, he was an unlikely and unexpected saviour." Celia replied. "Sonja and I cried during the whole ceremony. His body was still radioactive and the lead-lined coffin was too heavy for the normal pall-bearers. I don't think they knew that on the television, but that's why coverage started when he was already placed inside the church."
"Have they finished decontaminating the Prometheus yet?" asked Sam. "I've been out of touch these last few days."
"Since you resigned from the SGC and USAF?" enquired Celia, receiving an affirmative nod from Sam. "A crew of Chinese astronauts was ferried to the International Space Station yesterday. They await the go-ahead to start work on repairs in orbit after the transfer of ownership to China has been confirmed. That will happen once the last traces of radioactivity have been eliminated, probably within the next two or three days."
"So you probably want to know....." Sam started to explain.
"Why you wish to be a part of this mission." Celia correctly anticipated. "I should tell you, Sam, that your activities and objectives have been of interest to our Government for some time. I tell you this because it will save the need for long explanations."
"What?" came Sam's surprised retort. "When? And why?"
"It is only natural that all SGC personnel would be objects of interest to foreign governments, seeing that the US establishment kept the programme in almost total secrecy these last few years. Especially, I may add, since the fate of all Earth nations was in their hands and yet they chose to keep us in the dark." said Celia, the statement as calm as though she were describing an event in ancient history. "You worked under Jack O'Neill, firstly as his 2IC on SG-1, and then under his generalship for nearly ten years in total. You survived rumours of an improper relationship under military rules and took a lover three years ago, a police detective from Denver. You recently ended the affair and obtained the position at Bregman Films while he returned to live with his former wife until two weeks ago."
Sam stared open-mouthed at her host before recovering her composure. She was surprised by the information about Pete's recent movements, but was also intrigued by the fact that it didn't really bother her. She simultaneously determined that this meeting was not going to turn out well if it turned into one-way traffic, and she decided to take the plunge.
"I am the best-qualified person in the world to assist on this mission." she replied firmly. "I helped to design the ship and the naquadria reactor. I can pilot it and operate and repair any and all apparatus on board." She looked Celia squarely in the eye. "I would have been in your place on Prometheus had not the SGC prevented me from going. And I am in love with Jack O'Neill to the point where I would give anything at all to have him back. I resigned from the SGC in protest against their failure to mount a rescue operation. I can repeat that more loudly in case your recording devices didn't pick it up clearly enough."
Now it was Celia's turn to look surprised. Before she could say anything, Sam continued "And I am quite capable with my current connections of making the whole world aware of any political or personal games that you might be playing, Celia. I understand only too well that China's growth will soon make it the foremost economic and military power on this planet, and that this mission gives their government a golden opportunity to shine in the eyes of the world, whether the outcome is successful or not. I am their best chance of improving the odds of success. So if personal rivalry prevents me from being considered for selection, I will make damned sure that it will be reported in every newspaper around the globe."
"But Jack......" Celia started to say.
"Jack, if he's still alive, will make up his own mind about his future and who he wants to be with." Sam interrupted. "God knows, you've got just as much chance as I have, maybe more after what I've done to him. But I'm willing to let that take second place to getting him home, Celia. Does he mean that much to you?"
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The two security men positioned out of sight down the street had been given instructions to follow Dr. Carter when she emerged from the gates of the Residence to enter the waiting taxi. However, as events transpired, they later had difficulties in describing the white sparkling mass of light that descended into the front garden after they observed her leaving the front door. In the confusion, they could not positively say that they saw her enter the cab: certainly it was empty when they caught up with it down town.
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Elapsed time on board (ETOB): LD Plus 50 days. Elapsed time at origin (ETAO): LD Plus 69 days
'Day 50. It has taken 3 days to work out the method and then effect fuel transfer to the mini-pod. The 2 fuel components are hydrazine and nitrogen tetroxide and they form a hypergolic mixture, i.e. they explode and burn when they come into contact in the mixing chambers in each of the attitude control thrusters. It took many trips backwards and forwards through the air-lock to isolate each of the fuel lines and then dismantle the thruster before I could connect other pieces of tubing and nozzles to inject into the mini-pod tanks. I robbed the tubes and nozzles from one of the forward thrusters and first job tomorrow is to replace them. Then the mini-pod will make its last journey, as further meddling with the fuel lines is probably going to be too hazardous. Although I have been as careful as possible with the connectors, some damage to the seals is inevitable and these fuels are dangerous and corrosive when they escape.
I did not notice a slight leak of hydrazine being sprayed from my improvised line onto the Mylar hull until it started to form a cloudy spot in the plastic. The area has probably been weakened and so as a precaution I applied a large emergency sealing patch to the inner side of the contact spot. I hope that it stabilizes it.
Gyroscope vibrations are getting worse so I will launch to recover the data retrieval station parts as soon as I have finished re-connecting the forward thrusters tomorrow.
Rumours of my death have been exaggerated up until now, but I have been lucky again today. Once again, if this is the last entry.... etc. etc. On the whole, I'd rather be in Minnesota, but if I have to go, this is a great way to do it.
Jack.'
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Elapsed time on board (ETOB): LD Plus 51 days. Elapsed time at origin (ETAO): LD Plus 70 days
'Breaking News.' said the ticker at the bottom of the screen. 'Chinese Embassy denies knowledge of whereabouts of former USAF Lt-Col Carter, now missing for 5 days. Police statement due 9:00pm tonight.'
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The focal point data collector had stayed faithfully on station, orientated exactly in line with the former centre of rotation of the now-departed Prometheus and the still-present Bio-pod. Jack was highly relieved when the powerful spotlight on the front of the mini-pod picked it out, and he fired the thrusters in minimal bursts to match its velocity exactly. The fact that it was not tumbling was a good sign, indicating that the gyroscopes were still working. Despite getting another six hours straight sleep last 'night', he was tired from today's exertions reconnecting the front thrusters on the Bio-pod and knew that his state of alertness on his way here to find the data collector had been sustained by adrenalin flow. He must not allow himself to let his attention fall away now.
He checked that his much-repaired helmet was a gas-tight fit and evacuated the air from the mini-pod. His suit thruster jets propelled him gently towards the floating metal array once he was clear of the door. He would have to be patient and wait for the gyroscopes to spin down once he had disconnected the power, otherwise he would be fighting their reactions to every movement he wanted to make in capturing the device and taking it back 'home'. It was a moment's work to switch off the power, and he decided that he would spend the hour or so waiting for spin-down to end just floating next to the data collector, taking in the unique views around him. He left the radio channel open as usual so that a record of his commentaries on the sorties from the Bio-pod would be available for dissection by the Daniel-clones in a few thousand years time, if he were lucky. They would have to work their way through the humming, singing and occasional profanity that punctuated his statements of progress, but that would be their problem.
"Data collector powering down. Commencing wait for gyroscope stop." he said. And just as on other occasions, odd tunes passed through his subconscious, occasionally making their way onto the airwaves.
"Always look on the bright side of death." he sang, whistling the chorus in between stanzas. "Just before you draw your terminal breath......" 'I wonder if I need to explain graveyard humour?' he mused. 'Nah. Stuff 'em.'
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