1Wow, my second story in one day, I'm on a roll.
This will be a very long story, and updates will be sporadic, but bare with me. I'll do my best to make it worth reading.
Oh, and I don't own Stargate. Would love to, but I'm broke.
To Whoever Happens to be Reading This
First off, if your names happens to begin with a C, G, M, or K, please stop reading this right now. You know who you are. So, stop. Now.
Have you stopped yet? Good. Because quiet frankly, I want you to keep believing that I'm Emako Levine, 18 years old and a native to Tannersville, New York.
Now really, stop reading.
I apologize to anyone you reads this who isn't C, G, M, or K, but I had no love for the US military before I somehow ended up in Michigan on a secret military base with no idea how I got there, and now that I have, I downright dislike it. I'm also suspicious. There's nothing like finding out you're hundreds of miles away from home on a military base to put you on guard. And have I mentioned that I'm on a military base with no recollection of how the hell I got here! Because I am, and its really infuriating.
Needless to say, I'm rather peeved, bewildered, and pissed off right about now. The best course of action, however, is not to completely lose my head, which I'm about midway through doing, but to calm down and try to remember what happened. So, I'm going to take a few deep breaths, and sit quietly for a while. There's no sense in giving myself a brain hemorrhage. I should just relax.
Okay, now that I'm slightly more calm, I'll just try to remember, and write down, everything I can recall. That will at least be a start.
Right, so, around 10:00 pm on July, 23, 2005, I was on my PC typing up a draft for my Summer History homework. Normally I would have started days ago, but I saw no sense in starting the project until after I had gotten and read the amazing, wonderful, spectacular, sixth Harry Potter book. But it had come out seven days ago, and I had finished reading it at about 9:00 pm on the same day, so I had run out of excuses. It was time for to get down to the dirty work. And, me being me, I had stayed up way to late for some who had just come back from a day at SplishSplash and biked about five miles, and I feel asleep while I was working.
Then I had a really discombobulated, fragmented dream I can barely remember. Or maybe it wasn't a dream. But in either case, I've got nothing better to do, so I'll write it down.
First I was in a dark steel room with a bunch of teenagers. Although be frank, I'm not sure it was steel. It could I've been iron, or lead.
Wow. I've just re-read that last paragraph, and I've come to the conclusion that Dr. Carson put something in the IV bag than just the regular fluids. Figures, huh?
Anyhow, I was in a room comprised of metal with a bunch of kids. They all looked very different from one another, but they all seemed familiar. Maybe I've dreamt/met them before. One of them was a tall girl of African-American decent, whose dread-knotted hair was pulled back into a large braid that hung down her back. There was another one, a ginger-haired boy who was swearing in a thick cockney/English accent. There was a portly boy of Asian decent who shaking his head at the sight off a small, young boy of about twelve who was shaking with fear as he leaned heavily against the wall. A short, red-headed girl who was watching the room and its occupants with unease, right across the room from an older girl with shining black hair whose eyes flashed dangerously as I looked at her. I made a mental note not to piss her off if I could avoid it.
After about five minutes of eyeing each and our surroundings in silence, I decided to save what's left of my patience for a rainy day and spoke.
"I don't suppose any of you have the slightest idea where we are, do you?" I asked
All eyes turned to me ,and, after a pause of about three seconds, there was a general murmur in the negative, and then a guy dressed up as a Buddhist monk walked in. I think there was a conversation between the two, but I have not the slightest idea what it was about. I can't tell you what the monk dude said either, only that it was about earth having a lot of secrets, chaos, and it included a lot of technobabble about the timespace continuum. That's about all I can remember up until this whole goblet sequence thing.
We were in a different room, surrounded by people in a wide array of shockingly bold colors, including, but not limited to lime green, hot pink, highlighter yellow, and electric blue. Everyone was tense and wary, like a fight was about to break out. I remember being really jumpy, and thinking, "Don't make any sudden moves. Keep calm and collected. You know they have all the aces, so don't bluff, whatever you do." Right about now I'm thinking more along the lines of, "Who the hell was I trying to avoid fighting with?"
They next thing I remember is drinking from really beautiful goblet. I'm not the sort of person who can stare at a painting is derive pleasure from it- give me a good book any day-but this was a really awesome piece of craftsmanship. It looked like it was made completely out of milky opals or mother-of-pearl.
I'm not sure what happened next. One minute I was drinking, the next I doubled over, and my entire body felt like it was on fire. Let me tell you, I'm never going to be able to enjoy a camp fire again. Being burned alive is not a pleasant sensation, to make an incredibly mammoth understatement.
All throughout that wonderful feeling, I was hearing a lot of screaming and yelling, my guess is that the fight I sense before had come to a head. Then the burning sensation stopped, and I felt like I was being dragged. I got thrown into something, and then...well, imagine you're on the fastest, wildest, craziest roller-coaster ride humanly possible. Then multiply by about 100. Then imagine you got thrown into a brick wall, still at unbelievably high speeds. Needless to say, I blacked out.
Waking up from unconsciousness is not like waking up from sleeping. It's like a cross between what I imagine being hangovered would be like, and how my dad describe anesthesia sickness. First thing you notice is sore all of your muscles are, and how tired you are. You feel like you want to crawl back to sleep. Then your head practically explodes with pain. It's like brain freeze, migraine headaches and being conked on the back the head with your friend's baseball bat all rolled into one. It's not pleasant. It's not happy. And it completely prevents you from going back to sleep. After a few minutes, though, the headache starts to fade, and you become aware of your surroundings. You don't see anything, because your eyelids feel like they're made out of lead, but you can feel things. Such as sheets. And you can hear things to. Normally, I suppose, you'd hear doctors conferring with one another, or your parents, or something. Since I'm trapped in Michigan, that's obviously not what I heard.
"She's what, 17, 18. A bit young for espionage, didnea think?" said a thickly laden Scottish accented voice. This, I later learned, or was told, was Dr. Carson. That might not be his real name, so I'm not committing myself either way.
"She could have had plastic surgery or something." suggested another voice, clearly American.
"Why would anyone go through all that trouble to make someone look like they're in their late teens, complete with pimples. They must know that we donea let kids have the run o' the city." the first voice answered.
"Yeah, but they could always..." the second voice began, but was cut off by another, Latino one.
"Lo siento, but the patient is waking up." she interrupted.
"Thank ya, nurse." the Scottish voice replied "Well, we will be finding out, now wonea we?"
At this point I was confused, tired, cranky, and disoriented. So I opened my eyes, and found that I was in a very bland room, painted a dull gray color. It was also blindingly bright. Actually, the right word would be painful. Painfully bright.
"Ouch!" I groaned, quickly shutting my eyes again.
"Hold on there lass, gimme a second to turn down the lights." the Scottish voice soothed, and a second later the redness I saw through my eyelids disappeared. "Right then, you can open your eyes now."
I did, noting that the light had mercifully dimmed to a more tolerable level. "Thanks." I whispered, wincing at how dry my throat sounded. "Where am I?"
The two figures exchanged looks, before the slimmer one answered. "Where do you think you are?"
"Um... a hospital? Good Samaritan, Suffolk General, St Augustine's, or something. I don't know. What happened to me?"
The two people looked at each other again before the plumper one spoke in low, Scottish voice.
"You don't remember?" he inquired
"No, I." I began, and then stopped. Alarm bells started ringing through my head and my naturally cynical personality reasserted itself. I still didn't know where I was, or who these people were, or how I got here. Worse yet, everyone seemed to be avoiding my questions. Something weird was going on, but I would need more information to figure out what. So I cleared my throat. "I'd like to know where I am please."
The skinnier one made to turn his head exchange yet another look, but instead of meeting it, Scotty blurted out "Michigan." The skinnier one glared at him.
"Michigan !" I repeated incredulously. "I was in New York last night, how the he..ck did I get to Michigan?"
"You're from New York?" asked the skinny one. Mentally I cursed myself. I still had no idea what my situation was. I shouldn't be giving out personal information.
"Yes, that's right." I said, casting my mind about for the name of a town in New York. "Tannersville, New York. The last thing I remember is doing my history homework. How could I have ended up in Michigan?"
"We were hoping you'd be able to tell us that, lass." answered Scotty.
"Sorry, but I'm just confused right now." I replied. "I don't have the faintest idea of how I got here."
"That's alright, lass. We'll figure it out eventually. We normally do." he soothed
"Thanks." I whispered.
"So, kid, do you have a name?" asked the American voice.
"Yeah, Emako Levine. Who're you?" I questioned.
"Well," began Scotty, "I'm Dr..."
"He's Dr. Carson."butted in the American. "And I'm Col. German."
Dr. Carson shot the colonel a reproachful look, but German paid it no mind. Actually now that I think about it, I don't think those are their real names, I think.
Wow. Whatever's in this IV is really strong. I feel like I'm drunk.
Anyway, at this point two new people came in, accompanies by the smell of something burning. One was clutching his right hand, and moaning softly, but it was the second figure that was really startling.
Okay imagine me with brown eyes and a thinner nose, and being about 6'3", and you'd have Dr. Kay. Same shade of hair(brown), same unruly eyebrows, same bone structure (tall and thin), and same pointy ears. It was scary. It was like a trick mirror that shows you what you'll look like in about 20 years. Heck, scary doesn't even cover it. Downright disturbing would be more accurate.
The other guy had really light brown hair, almost dirty blonde, with dark blue eyes, and the same chunky nose I ended up with. It's a French Canadian nose, which would be fine if I wasn't part Irish, part Czech, part Nordic, and part German. Nothing French and nothing Canadian.
"What's did you do now, Rodney?" groaned Dr. Carson, rushing forward to help.
"I burnt my hand, what does it look like?" snapped Rodney
"Yes, but what were you doing when you burnt it?" said Dr. Carson semi-patiently. "Were handling another one of your toys or were trying to cook dinner?"
"Since when do I cook dinner?" snarled back Rodney
"How many times do I have to tell you lad, you shouldnae touch things that blow up." moaned Dr. Carson
"If I didn't touch things that blew up nothing would get done around here. Everything in this place can blow up."
German rolled his eyes slightly. "Gee thanks, that's a really comforting thought."
"Did our mystery patient wake up yet?" asked Dr. Kay, although at the time I didn't know her name, and I probably still don't.
"If you're referring to me, I'm right here." I pointed out. Dr. Kay jumped slightly, and everyone in the room turned to stare at me. "What?"
"Everyone, meet Emako Levine." Colonel German proclaimed, completely ignoring my question. "Levine, meet Drs. Mc... Weir and Kay."
The two doctors looked at him, and he gave them a look right back.
"Um.. Nice to meet you I guess." I said. Dr. Kay nodded slightly. "Erm... well, uh... do you think I could call my mom. She's probably worried sick, and I'd like to get home at some point in the near future."
Everyone in the room exchanged looks.
"Excuse us for a sec." answered Col. German. "Dr. Carson, could we use your office for a minute?"
Dr. Kay and Col. German went into a small, cubical-like office wedged in the right-hand corner, followed by Dr. Carson, leaving me alone with Dr. McWeir.
"So..." I said, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. "What exactly do you do that involves exploding things?"
"I suppose you'd call it R&D." he said. "Although, it's really closer to the R than the D, I suppose."
"Ah." I replied, not entirely sure of what to say. We spent a few more minutes in silence before Col. German and the rest came out of Dr. Carson's office, looking rather grim.
"Lass, this is going to come as a bit of a shock to you, but we can't let you call your parents." Dr. Carson said softly.
"What?" I responded, shocked. "But why?"
Dr. Carson looked away.
"Levine, you appeared on a military base." Colonel German said bluntly. "We're doing a lot of weapons design and research, so until you're healed we can't allow you to go anywhere."
"That still doesn't answer my question." I pointed out.
"Too bad." answered the Colonel. "That's the best you're going to get.
So, to make that long, and very time consuming story short: I'm stuck on a base with people I don't know, with no way of getting home. Life's pretty complicated, and this IV stuff isn't helping. I can't even walk, according the Dr. Carson. I'll just have to wait it out.
-Emako Levine
