Disclaimer: I own nothing other than the little voices in my head.
Reviewers: thanks again, you really are great! And apologies for my slowness this week – I enjoyed my long weekend and came back to a pile of work, bleh... The treat of the day is a nice mug of Horlicks!
Enjoy your weekends!
Stargate Command – 20th September, 1998
Sam thought he might be getting a handle on things now, at least he hoped he was. He had a far better idea of where and when he was, and what this place was geared around, though his mission was still a total mystery.
The primer he'd read in Carter's lab had been a massive shock to his system, but seeing how the entire base revolved around what might otherwise be dismissed as mass hysteria he couldn't deny the fact that it was true. It was almost as 'crazy' as his own strange method of time travel.
Aliens not only existed, but some of them would like nothing better than to destroy Earth. One particular race had a habit of enslaving humans and making them their submissive hosts, something that he found utterly repulsive, and they were responsible for most of Earth's mythological Gods and ancient cultures! The archaeologist within him had cried out against that possibility, but the evidence was there to prove it – and it certainly explained why someone like Daniel Jackson was onboard. Other aliens were friendly, including a more compromising offshoot of the parasitic race, and some had built this amazing Stargate network that actually created and controlled wormholes between specific planets – now that part he really wanted to study some more. And finally, the US Government blatantly knew about all of this... but there was nothing to say that any other world government did. Considering the size of the threat, Sam wasn't too sure whether this was for the best – but if it got out to the public he knew that they really would have mass hysteria on their hands.
Sam concluded that his mission couldn't be to break this story to the world – which wasn't too surprising since his assignments didn't tend to be that earth-shattering (no pun intended) – but he had far too many other guesses. He had originally considered the possibility that he was here to help Daniel find the mysterious Sha're, who he now knew to be a woman from the planet of Abydos and currently host to the Goa'uld Ammonet – definitely not the 'Sharon Ray' that his sleepy mind had concocted in the wee hours of the morning. This didn't seem likely though, since he had no chance of talking the parasite out of its host and presumably if surgery was an option then it would already be a standard procedure.
Other alternatives were to help Captain Carter with her wormhole theories, or perhaps Daniel with a translation of two – though he now knew that the languages Daniel was preoccupied with were not human. Maybe it was that weird device, or someone else on the base? He hadn't even met this Teal'c guy, and as far as he could tell the man wasn't exactly... well... a man! The possibilities confounded him, and without Al and Ziggy –
"Ok Colonel, you're free to go," a young male voice said, breaking Sam out of his daydream.
"Oh, um, thanks, er... Brown," he replied, annoyed with himself for sinking so deep into his thoughts while the nurse checked his sprained ankle.
"Are you sure you're all right there, Colonel?" It was Dr Fraiser now, with a concerned expression on her face. "You looked a bit zoned out there. If you need some painkillers just let me know."
Sam shook the suggestion off hurriedly. "No, not at all Doctor – I was trying to think what to say to the recruits tomorrow. General Hammond has assigned Teal'c and I to give them a few hard words from the front."
"Well at least you can give them first hand information on how a small slip can create a big pain in the butt," Janet laughed pointedly. "Though I don't think our wheelchairs are quite that uncomfortable."
"Got it in one Doctor! Say, I don't suppose you know how long it'll be before I can walk around again, do you?"
"Some things never change do they, Jack? Look I don't want you out of that wheelchair before tomorrow, and even then it'll still be crutches for a couple of days – bare minimum." The doctor's voice was stern, and Sam remembered Al once telling him that a Chief Medical Officer could overrule any other officer on base if he or she saw fit. "I can understand that you might not want those kids to see you as an invalid, but if you want to make it back to active duty before next week you're going to have to keep resting that ankle. Come back here early tomorrow and we'll see what we can do, but I'm not promising anything. And testing it will only set you back – I have my spies everywhere."
Sam sighed. "Ok, so Daniel ratted on me."
She smiled and brought the wheelchair closer to the bed. "Now let's get you out and about again, ok Colonel? We still have these poor fellas to deal with." She nodded in the direction of a few closed curtains. "Two of SG6 and one of SG8 are still under strict surveillance. It was Yu's Jaffa – they were hit by staff weapons, like Sergeant Reilly last night when you three came through."
So that's what he'd seen last night! Sam had read something about staff weapons and another weapon called a zat'n'ktel, both used by the Goa'uld's soldiers... men who carried Goa'uld larvae as symbiotes, somewhere in their abdomen... Jaffa – like Teal'c. Sam shuddered involuntarily. This Leap was uncanny.
"Give them all my best would you, Doctor?"
Dr Fraiser nodded. "Of course, Colonel. Now get out of my infirmary!"
She and the male nurse, Brown, helped him into the wheelchair and he waved off offers of help to take him to his office. The fact that he had no idea where that was didn't matter, because there could be no better time to explore a little and test his memory of this maze of a place than when no-one was expecting him. That, and he could meet more people – it was always possible that Jack O'Neill might be in a position to help any of these people at the SGC, even someone he barely knew.
Trundling his way through the base, Sam received numerous nods and salutes from various personnel – and nodded in return. They all seemed amused to see Colonel O'Neill in a wheelchair, but considering the alternative and the fact that this was his body not Jack's, Sam decided that he didn't want a permanent limp following him from Leap to Leap, and as such some out-of-character behaviour would be just fine.
That, and he could cover a lot more ground in this thing than he would on crutches – he found what looked like a lab wing, high security / decontamination / quarantine cells, a well-guarded armoury and an extensive library area. He was sorely tempted to take a look around the library especially, but the Airman at its front desk had looked so shocked to see him there that Sam had hastily called out that he was just getting used to his new set of wheels. O'Neill was not a literary man, it seemed.
Finally, Sam entered what looked more like an office area close to the briefing room he'd visited earlier with Daniel and Captain Carter. He guessed that Jack's office would be somewhere around here seeing as he led the flagship team and seemed to be the second highest ranking officer after General Hammond. He was right – and after thanking a Marine guard who helped him with the door he sat back and took stock of the room.
On first glance it looked like a typical military office. There were numerous frames around the room containing certificates and medals, a couple of old looking weapons hung on hooks, a small number of books and only a few photographs. The most personal photos were clustered around the computer, including one of a young boy – Jack's son? There was no clue to his name, but the edges looked as though it had been held a great deal. Definitely someone he was fond of. Other photos looked more job related, including one of 4 men all blacked up in combat gear next to a particularly dangerous looking helicopter. An old squad perhaps? He couldn't tell which one was Jack, though he had taken a peek in the mirror earlier.
Looking closer at the desk he saw that it was what he'd call 'unloved' – the papers seemed to be organised in a 'do I have to?' kind of way, with smaller jobs at the top and larger ones at the bottom. Picking through them Sam could see that some documents at the bottom had been there since June! But then maybe there were other reasons for that, he told himself, perhaps they were ongoing projects or studies that Jack was merely observing and not actually taking part in. He decided to turn the computer on and was immediately asked for a password – so much for luck, it looked like he'd have to wait for a chance to use someone else's again.
Sam decided to try the books for more clues, but then caught a glimpse of the clock – it was quarter to eleven. Nearly time to wake up Daniel.
Setting everything back in its place he opened up the door again with some difficulty – the Marine must be elsewhere on patrol – and headed off in the direction that felt best. It would take him down some corridors that he hadn't visited yet, but his mental map told him that there should be a route through. Relieved, he found that he was correct a few minutes later. It would have been awkward to explain to some Airman – or even Daniel – that he was running late because he'd gotten lost!
This time he opened the door with more ease, having figured out a good way to angle the chair while turning the handle, and entered slowly. Sam heard Daniel before he saw him, breathing softly like someone peacefully asleep. Thankfully the wheelchair was well oiled and didn't squeak, so Sam decided that this was an ideal opportunity to explore the room and its contents. Moving carefully to avoid knocking into any of the vast array of books and artefacts, Sam indulged his curiosity as far as he was able in the dim light of the desk lamp that Daniel must have left on. The books were all that he would expect of a person of Daniel's speciality, focussing on Egyptology, Archaeology, Anthropology, a few ethnographies regarding first contact peoples and low technology societies, as well as numerous books on Linguistics and Ancient Languages. It was a real cornucopia.
To many people the range and style of organisation might seem eclectic, but Sam – having read several of them back in the days before Project Quantum Leap – could immediately see that Daniel had arranged these books in an order of what he could only describe as 'attitude.' There were the strict, straight down the line, classical books in one bookcase – mostly from the 19th and early 20th centuries, when archaeological theory was extremely euro-centric. The upper half of this bookcase contained more open-minded books, but more in the sense that the authors listed their objective findings separately to their more subjective conclusions, making it a lot easier to go back to and reinterpret the data in light of future findings. There were also a few technical books, mostly academic and scientific but also – Sam snickered when he saw this – 'Windows for Dummies'.
The second bookcase was far more... liberated. Here were the popular science books detailing the signs of water erosion on the Sphinx, alien abduction stories, the frequency with which pyramids appeared again and again in ancient societies – books that no normal scientist would be seen dead with. With them were issues of academic journals that had printed the original articles listing these theories in greater scientific detail, but again due to their content the journals were independent publications and not mainstream or professional. Sam knew the feeling – his string theory hadn't been well received by academia, so it had taken nearly 20 years to source funding for its development from a paranoid government seeking a twisted new weapon for its armoury.
As interesting as those shelves were, Sam was more drawn to the folders containing Daniel's own theories and reports. He'd read a few on the computer, but if Dr Jackson was anything like most scientists he had one set of results and findings that were presented to his employers and a wholly different set that he kept to himself for further analysis and development over time. That was the troubling difference between academia and commercial study – on the one hand you had to fight tooth and nail for funding but had all the time in the world (within limits) to produce results, and on the other you received a regular salary but conclusions were expected to arrive on demand. It was that conflict of interest that had led Sam to step into the quantum leap accelerator early, in a desperate attempt to prove that it could work to the government sponsors who wanted results yesterday. Now if only he could reach those folders...
Suddenly he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Was Daniel waking up? Quickly he span around with an apologetic grin on his face, ready to face a man who might only see an intruder rifling through his things. It wasn't Daniel though – it was... Al? Whatever it was, it was flickering and holographic, and despite his relief that the team had finally found him he knew that if they were having trouble 'tuning in' then he still might be on his own.
The hologram focussed a little better and Sam blinked in amazement. This person had far too much bushy hair to be Al. "Gooshie?!"
The image waved. "... Sam!"
"Gooshie? Is that you? Where's Al?" Sam repeated, waving back and drawing closer to the fuzzy image. The chances were that Gooshie could see and hear him just as badly, but it was worth a shot. Then again he remembered belatedly that he had to be quiet – Daniel was still asleep.
"... you hear ... Sam? ... Zig ... going ..." The hologram was clearly annoyed.
"Gooshie, you're really flickering a lot so I don't know much you can see or hear – but it's really good to see you ok? Where's Al? No, don't answer that," Sam continued after a moment's thought. "I'm guessing from this place that O'Neill's a bit of a handful. Ok, you're nodding so you can hear me. Do a search on 'Stargate' would you? It might sound crazy – wait, you're looking vague again, I'll write it down."
Frustrated, Sam looked around for a pad and a permanent marker. If he could write a few things down in solid enough letters he might be able to get a message across.
"... getting ...!"
Sam couldn't tell what Gooshie was trying to say, but from his expression he guessed that it wasn't directed at him anyway, and having found a marker pen he was concentrating harder on making sure that whatever he was trying to convey would generate a few hits via Ziggy's enormous search capabilities.
"... words ... really ...... looks ... star ... one ..."
Gooshie's image was fading fast, as was the audio, but as far as he could tell the man was reading everything back to others – with any luck he could see it right too, so Sam smiled encouragingly while casting a glance back over towards the daybed The last thing he needed was for Daniel to wake up in the middle of this.
"... nak ...Q-U ... H ... two ... names ... Dr ... son ... anth ... er ... got ... mark ... ah! ... with ... ques ... Ungh!"
The last sound was definitely not a happy one, and the hologram looked like he was faltering badly.
"Gooshie?" Sam asked in alarm, forgetting that he was meant to be quiet. "Are you ok?"
But it was too late – his old friend was gone, and he had no idea when he'd be back. He didn't even know why Al wasn't in there, but it had to be serious. Hopefully he'd given them a few clues though, ones that Jack O'Neill may not have mentioned given due to the obviously classified nature of this project. Well at least he couldn't say that this Leap wasn't intellectually stimulating!
A mumble from the other side of the room caught him unawares. "Jack?"
Daniel was waking up, stirring on the bed and blinking in a bit of a daze. Glancing at the clock Sam saw that it was ten past 11 now – time to get back into the role.
"Wake up sleepy head! I would have brought you some coffee, but there aren't any cup holders on this thing!"
"Do you have to be so awake? What time is it?" The archaeologist grumbled.
"Well past time you were up, it's gone 11," Sam replied, trying not to laugh. He really did like this guy. "Where do you keep those power bars?"
"Bottom left desk drawer, behind the packet of nuts – Janet's idea, not mine."
Rummaging in the drawer, Sam noticed the photo of a beautiful young woman on the desk itself. Unlike the photo in Jack's office this one was framed, however the light showed up fingerprints on the glass about her face. It had to be Sha're. That was one thing that Sam was thankful for, that he hadn't left a wife behind. He was certain that he'd have remembered someone so important, and Al had never mentioned a significant other – apart from his own numerous ex-wives and girlfriends. Daniel, on the other hand, had lost his wife to what was essentially a living death.
Throwing a bar over to his new friend, Sam saw other photos on the desk – far less personal but certainly as intriguing. "Is this that translation you mentioned earlier, Daniel?"
The archaeologist had swivelled his legs around and was sitting on the side of the bed, still looking a little bleary. "Yes – there are a few of both P2Q-198 and PX7-418 in there, but I haven't managed to get anywhere as yet. What we're really trying to crack is the Ancients' language of course, but those cunei-runes could be the key." He yawned, then coughed as a piece of power bar fell down the back of his throat. "Ouch. What have you been up to this morning anyway, other than poking around in my office again? Have you seen Sam again?"
Sam tried his hardest not to look guilty. "I wasn't poking around! Just waiting for the right moment to wake you up. And no I haven't seen Captain Carter – instead I've been practicing getting around in my mini-humvee here, as well as checking in with the lovely Dr Fraiser – speaking of whom..."
It was Daniel's turn to look guilty. "Ok, so I bumped into her on my way back here. It's not good to hide things from your doctor, Jack. I have to get on with this work now though – shouldn't you be preparing for your study date with the kids tomorrow?"
Reflecting the smirk on Daniel's face, Sam turned back to the photos and tried to figure out what it reminded him of.
"It really is a combination of ancient Norse runes and Sumerian cuneiform isn't it?" He mumbled absently. "Good name, cunei-runes... It would be nice to be able to talk to them wouldn't it?"
Turning his head again he noticed the surprised expression on Daniel's face. "Who? The Vikings, the Babylonians, the Asgard, the Oannes or the Ancients? And I've never seen you take much notice in linguistics anyway – or is something coming back to you from that information they downloaded into you?"
"Wha?!" Sam made a desperate attempt to recover from yet another shock. He knew aliens existed, but did the SGC really just chat to them? And what was this about information being downloaded into Jack's brain? "Um, no – I guess your bad influence must be rubbing off on me, that's all." A lop-sided grin ought to cover it.
"Uh-huh." Daniel didn't look like he was buying it. "Whatever you say, Jack. But you're right – maybe we should try contacting the Asgard about it, though Thor's never been very forthcoming with information about the Ancients. I really don't want to run into Nem again though."
Nem, Nem, Nem... Sam drew a blank, so he decided to make a quick exit. His photographic memory would be enough to recreate those symbols at a later time anyway, providing his mind didn't swiss-cheese itself during the Leap – it might be fun to have a good look at them.
"Well, I'd better be getting along anyway – time to visit Major Stubbs and pick up that curriculum, y'know."
"Yeh, I've got a fair bit to get on with as well. This translation, and that one on Hemuset's artefacts..." Daniel sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "But hey, Teal'c will be back later so we can all catch up over dinner. Sound good?"
"You mean you'll be eating proper food later on?" Sam couldn't resist the opportunity to tease.
"Yes, Jack. Now thank you for waking me up, but would you please get out of here before you break something?"
Sam gripped the wheels of his chair. "Just open the door and see me fly, Dr Jackson!"
Daniel rolled his eyes and turned the handle. "Just when you thought it was safe to roam the corridors of the SGC..."
Next chapter: the Control Room