Chapter One
Waiting. It is possibly the one thing we do most often in our lives, and yet it remains the hardest task to fulfill. My foot twitches in random strokes as I check the clock for what may be the hundredth time in the last hour. When I told Sam I would wait here and don't move' until she got back, I didn't mean forever. And that's what this feels like--forever.
Agitated, I spring to my feet and start pacing, knowing in my gut that something is wrong with this whole situation. Something other than the fact that I'm here to attend the funeral of the mother I've been living with for over six years, I mean.
I don't know why I can sense these shifts in atmosphere- it's just a gift I've had my entire life--but I can, and now it makes me nervous. The feeling of grief and unnatural stillness that has permeated the complex since SG-1's return has, in a few short moments, mutated into something just as dark but far more sinister. The fear grows, because I start to hear a high-pitched buzzing sound that has nothing whatsoever to do with the alarm system. The noise gets louder, and as I peek out the door, I see something that looks like some sort of energy wave come bolting at me straight-on!
On instinct, I lunge sideways onto the ground, curling in on myself and covering my head with my arms. In the darkness of my own head, I hear a tremendous wwwooooooooooosssssssssshhhhhhhhh!' and I feel something brush by me at an incredible speed. The buzzing fades and I'm alone again, but I'm too shocked to move. "Holy crap! What the hell was that?" And then a chill of terror hits me--the others! Oh my God--where was Sam... and the rest? Had they been hit by that electric-flare-thing? I almost start sprinting full-throttle out of there, but hang back as I think of what Sam had said to me.
Then, abruptly, I know that I can't stand the tension anymore--if I don't find out what the hell's going on around here, I'm gonna scream. Feeling only slightly guilty for disobeying Sam's orders, I creep out of the room and into the empty corridor, very cautious now.
That's weird, I think, glancing around, but still seeing no one. I couldn't believe they would leave the halls unguarded and vulnerable after having an unscheduled gate activation. I mean, for all they know, some bizarre quantum-phasing alien snuck through the iris and is now prowling around the base. "Okay, Cassie, stop it!" I order myself "Don't be ridiculous. There are no such things as quantum-phas--are there?" Sometimes I would do anything to stop thinking. Realizing what an idiot I am being, I get a grip, and head towards the Gate Room, occasionally ducking behind corners in case that anomaly came back. Now, as a general rule, I don't like risking close proximity with the Stargate, in case it reforms the Naquada bomb that was grown in my chest when I was nine years old, but I'm becoming so paranoid at the moment that I don't have much of a choice.
My apprehension increases as I near the room, totally freaked out by the absence of people striding down the halls. Usually I have to be careful to avoid being trampled. Right now. This place is silent--too silent. What's more, there is no sentry guarding the entrance to the Embarkation Room, and that is so unbelievably unnatural that I stop and stare at the closed sliding steel doors for a full minute thinking, " Okay, now I know something's screwy. Where the hell is everybody?"
Trying to keep myself under control, I start searching for an alternative way inside, because, as I don't have an access card, the layman's entrance is no longer an option. I know there is another intersection leading into the gate room, but darned if I can remember where that is. So, I guess that leaves the third option. I look up, considering the grill of the air vent with eyes that see but don't absorb the sight. My brain is too busy whirring with possibilities. "Well," I mumble, "It can't be that hard, right?"
Wrong! So very, very wrong! "Oh, God, who was the person who invented this damned thing, Thumbalina? Jeez, talk about claustrophobic--" It seems that my totally infallible plan had just one, little, tiny drawback--how the hell was I supposed to squash my entire body into a space just barely big enough for an amoeba? Come to think of it, how was I supposed to move once I'd flattened myself enough to actually fit inside the shaft? Oh, damn this was difficult.
Despite the obvious problems, I finally managed to hoist myself into the incredibly miniscule tunnel, while balancing on a whole myriad of chairs and trying to make sure I didn't add decapitation to my list of complaints in the process. Once up there, I tried to crawl, but was reduced to pulling myself along in a half-shuffle-half-slide motion. Peachy...but it couldn't be that far ahead...I kept going...and going...and goi--hey, I see the light! Encouraged, I slithered over to the grill just in front of me and glanced down. It was a second before my excitement at reaching my goal was wiped from my mind by what I saw below me. "Oh, shit! Oh, no."