Chapter Six
Reigning in control of himself, he sat back and let his hand drop from her face. The moment hadn't passed unnoticed by her; her face, which had been softened by emotion, sharpened instantly. She sat up straight, drawing in a deep breath.
"Who are you?"
Jack winced and looked away. He hadn't meant to tip his hand; he really hadn't. He just couldn't seem to help himself where she was concerned sometimes. He'd scared her, the last thing he'd wanted to do. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Look, this is going to sound really crazy, but I swear to God, it's true." He glanced at her, heartened to see the curiosity beating out the suspicion. "I don't know your father, Carter - well, I do, but not yet. I mean, I don't know what I mean." He was as confused as he normally was when she was telling him something important. "I know you, Carter."
She only looked alarmed for a moment. Jack wasn't sure if that was good thing or not. She had no reason to trust him besides his word. He didn't think it was wise for her to get into the habit of trusting people she didn't know, but he wanted to believe she felt the connection between them, that he was the only random stranger she'd instinctively trust.
She smiled softly, letting her eyes fall on his for a brief moment. "Do I want to know how? You don't mean as in you've been reading my records, do you?"
He shook his head. She was taking it far better than he'd expected, of course, he hadn't gotten to the kicker yet. "Actually, Carter, it's considerably more unbelievable than that."
"Ok, sir, so how about you start talking and if I think you're lying I'll call my dad?"
He took a moment to hope that Sam was much more advanced academically than he had been at eighteen. He figured it was a pretty safe bet. "I may botch up this explanation horribly, but if I do, I'll just consider it an omen that I ought to actually listen when yo- when people try to explain things I don't understand." He met her eyes and thought he detected a hint of mirth in them, but he couldn't be sure. She was, however, staring at him as though he was the most fascinating person in the entire world. He enjoyed the feeling when it was her thinking that; the Asgard, not so much.
"You're good with astrophysics, right?"
"Unnaturally so, yes, sir."
"So you know a thing or two about wormholes, right?"
Sam's eyes went wide as saucers. "They're supposed to be purely theoretical, but I have this idea that take into account fluctuations-"
He held up his hand, cutting her off mid-sentence once he remembered why he never listened to her explaining things. "Ok, so, theoretically, if you had a wormhole that just so happened to go by the sun when it just so happened to have a solar flare at that exact moment, what could happen?"
Sam looked at him and shrugged. "A bunch of different things are possible, I guess. Matter in the wormhole could be completely vaporized or the wormhole could collapse on itself or it could shift to a different location from the increased energy or it might not be affected at all or - God, I really don't know."
Jack was dumbfounded; he'd counted on her to get him home. He decided to try a new tactic. If he gave her enough information, she should be able to figure it out on her own. And it would only be then that she would believe his story anyway. The difficult part would be giving her enough accurate information without getting it all garbled up. "Ok, let's go with the shifting to a different location theory. Where could it go?"
"Anywhere, I guess. It's hard to know since there's not even much theory to work from." She cocked her head to the side and bit her lower lip. "It might bend away from the flare to preserve its integrity maybe, so it would likely shift in the same direction as the flare was going in." She paused, letting her eyes scan his face. Jack knew she was trying to figure out if she had the right answer. "Maybe the distance from the original intended destination is proportional to the size of the flare?"
Now, Jack had no idea if she was right or not, but it sounded logical enough to him. "Assuming that's right, what if it was a big, honking flare?"
Sam looked down; her mind working to answer him while her mouth worked to hide her smile. "Do you know the answer, sir?"
He had no idea what he was supposed to say. He only vaguely remembered her own explanation from years earlier. "Maybe. Do you?" She always enjoyed theorizing, so he took a gamble that she'd come up with something.
"I guess if the flair was big enough, the wormhole could go back in the direction it came from." She glanced at him for confirmation, hoping for a hint. "And it would be looking for somewhere to discharge its energy, so it could feasibly double-back on itself at the point of origin."
It sounded like she was getting close, but she hadn't brought up the most important part yet - time travel. It was really something he thought would be better received if she said it first. "So if someone was going through that wormhole when it doubled-back on itself, would they bump into themselves?"
Sam shook her head. "No, it's not possible. Matter isn't created in a wormhole; it's just in another form, rearranged, sort of. If he bumped into himself, there would have to actually be two of him and that's just not possible."
"So what would happen to that guy?"
He saw the moment the answer dawned on her. Her whole face lit up; her mouth dropped open in surprise. "Oh, my God!" Her wide eyes met his. "Oh, my God!"
He'd expected disbelief, distrust, denial. Instead, she was even more enthralled with him. She looked at him, scrutinizing him from head to toe. He squirmed under her stare.
"You're from the future?"
He wanted to laugh at hearing someone say that in all seriousness. He nodded. "Yup."
"How far?" Her eyes were dancing. He'd never seen her so excited over anything ever. She was undoubtedly entertaining all sorts of ideas that could have bad outcomes.
"Eighteen years."
"That's all?" She looked disappointed.
"It's far enough for me, Carter."
"So what do you need my help with?"
"Getting back there."
She pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded slowly. "Let me get this straight. You need my help to get back to the future?"
When she put it that way, it sounded preposterous. But there was nothing incorrect about her succinct statement. Jack nodded at her.
Her face turned threatening. "Let me guess. You broke the flux capacitor and you need some plutonium."
"Huh?" He thought it was fairly obvious that he didn't know what he needed, only that he needed her to fix it. But he was certain Carter had never mentioned plutonium. He vaguely remembered something about a super-heavy element she'd been talking about that time they'd accidentally gated through that sun, but that had nothing to do with time travel. He shook his head to clear the foggy thoughts. Nope, he was definitely lost again.
"Back to the Future? Michael J. Fox? Christopher Lloyd? It was a big movie a couple years ago? Do I really look like an idiot, sir? Or maybe you have some lottery numbers for me. Or some hot stock tips?"
"I'm not a fan of science fiction. I've never seen it."
"You seem big on lying, though." She still looked mad, but also like she wanted to cry. "Tell my dad I got the message. Sorry to waste your time, sir." She turned away, folding her arms across the table and dropping her face into them. It was only a moment before her shoulders started to shake.
"Ok, look, I know this is hard to believe, but it's true." Unable to resist a second time, he reached out, smoothing her hair back from her face. "Carter, Sam, come on, don't cry."
She sniffled and sobbed in a very un-Carter-like fashion. "I believed you. I am an idiot."
He leaned over, placing a hand lightly on her back and rubbing gently. "No, you believed me because you know I would never lie to you."
She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. "How would I know that?"
He brushed her face with his hand, rubbing his thumb slowly over her cheek. "You just do." He could feel the shiver that ran through her. "Give me a pen and some paper. Check with your dad. I was a captain in 1987, working special ops in Iran. I was 30. My father was dead and I don't have any siblings. You can confirm that much." He grabbed for the notebook she wasn't quite offering, turned to the first page with room on it and scribbled down his name so she wouldn't accidentally get the other Jack O'Neil.
She stared at the information he'd scrawled, obviously annoyed that he'd written in the middle of her notes. Apparently, she was meticulous about what went in her notebook. "And hypothetically, if I do decide to help you, how do I find you?"
He couldn't very well tell her he was sleeping in his car in the parking lot. "I'll find you." He winked at her and then walked away.
"Oh, that's reassuring."
Jack heard her sigh and knew she was going to spend a long time staring at that paper before she hopefully agreed to help.