Chapter 3
Hammond walks into his office and sits down. He sets up his iBook laptop and starts to work. It is Monday; Monday the 13th. He doesn't usually believe in that sort of superstitious nonsense, but this week has been really weird. First Sam calling Jack after she died and Jack disappearing. He had never acted like that before, Hammond had noted. Anyway, life did not stop and he still had a job to do, even without one of his best people and friends. He starts to tap absent-mindedly at the keyboard, and soon enough, he finds himself playing FFX Runner, his reports open in another window.
After about a half hour or so, there is a knock at the door. Quickly minimizing that window, Hammond instructs the visitor to enter. Harriman Davis enters and launches into an annoying rave in his best monotone about the latest tests on the gate and power usage and finally, after what seems like hours, personnel that have failed to report for duty.
"…all systems are back on line and Colonel O'Neill has not yet reported for duty."
Hammond looks at him with eyes that clearly state, 'you serious?' The poor guy is thinking, 'Oh man, what have I done wrong?' The general redirects his glance and dismisses the technical sergeant before picking up the phone and dialling in Jack's home phone number. He does not answer; before long the answering machine kicks in and Hammond hangs up. He rings his mobile phone number, but some annoying woman simply says, "This number does not exist or the phone has been switched off. Please check that you have entered the correct number, or try again later." He throws the phone down as if it was a poisonous spider and checks everything that might help him to locate his friend. His credit card had not been used, he hasn't used him mobile phone. Hammond suspects that Jack is still feeling responsible for what had happened to Sam; he finds that in most situations where something goes wrong or someone is hurt, he tries to blame himself. He had noticed that, in particular, he did this when the victim of these incidents is Sam Carter. Perhaps Dr. Frasier had not meant to let it slip that they felt for each other a little friendlier than friends, but she had. Hammond thinks that he should see if Jack is alright. Even if he was at home, he probably still wouldn't be answering the phone. He instructs Major Griff to take command over the base until he got back. He jumps in his car and drives to Jack's place. He is in such a hurry that he does not even realise that Jack's car is still in the parking lot: exactly where it had been two days ago.
Jack's Place
Hammond pulls up in the driveway. He steps out and slams the door after him. He walks up the path and knocks on Jack's front door. After a minute of silence and nothing happening, Hammond knocks again. This time he calls Jack's name. There is nothing. He pulls a lock pick out of his jacket pocket and lets himself in.
Jack probably wouldn't answer the phone or door if he was really depressed, thinks Hammond, brainstorming the reasons why Jack wouldn't be here. He inspects the whole property: three times. There is nothing. No signs that Jack has even been home. No sign that Jack had left. No sign of anything.
The Base
Hammond sits down at his desk again. He stares at the jumble of papers that need to be sorted out. He disregards them and continues thinking where Jack could be. Possibly he was at Sam's house. Perhaps at the morgue. He didn't know where Jack was, and it was beginning to worry him. Jack usually never ran from things. He was one who faced them, head on. Well perhaps losing Sam was too much for him, sighed Hammond.
About a half hour later, Jack is still not on base. Hammond has looked in his office countless times and called his place at least thrice. There is no sign of him. He relents. He had not wanted to call the morgue because the people probably were starting to get the impression that he wanted someone dead. Anyway, Hammond picks up the phone and dials. The same man that answered when he first rung answered. Hammond is starting to get annoyed with his voice.
"Hello," says Hammond, trying to keep his voice even. "I'm General Hammond, and I was in earlier this week with a man about…"
The man interrupts. "Jack O'Neill? Yeah, we've got a Jack O'Neill in here."
"He's there?" says Hammond. "Let me speak to him."
The man pauses for a moment. "No. Uh, maybe you didn't understand me properly. He's not at the morgue; he's in the morgue.
At the Morgue
Hammond comes in. He walks up to the front desk, where a woman is typing. He goes up to her. "Excuse me. I need the possessions of a Jack O'Neill. He was brought in here on Friday."
The woman looks up, looking unconcerned that Hammond might have known this man well. "Oh, yes. I'm very sorry. I can give you a few of his possessions; however his phone has been given to the phone company. They gave me a call yesterday as well. They have sold it. It is protocol that any item that has been resold from here that we receive their address and name. I can give you them if you want.
Hammond looks down. "Yes, thank you, I'd like to get the name and address of the buyer." The woman gives the name, address, Jack's dog tags and his sunnies to him. Without a word, he turns and leaves, the door squeaking closed behind him.
Buyer's House
Hammond knocks. After a moment, a young woman opens the door.
"Yo," she says. "Wassup y'all? If da people in yo' 'hoodz are sellin' stuff, well we ain't interested, man." She begins to close the door, but Hammond keeps it open.
"Did you buy a second hand phone the other day? From the store down the road?"
The girl looks at him. "Yeah, they said I'd have to give my name and address 'coz it was from the morgue, y'know. It's been really weird. I've been getting calls from these really whack people that I don't even know, askin' me to tell people stuff." It appears she has only just noticed that Hammond is wearing air force blues. "You General Hammond?" Hammond nods. "Some dude called Jack O'Neill told me to tell you he's sorry, man. I don't know what for; the dude wouldn't tell me."
Though kind of shocked, Hammond continues. "Well, I'd like to buy it off you. You see, it's very-"
"Nah, dude," says the woman. "Yo' can have it 'coz these calls are driving me whacko, you dig?" Even though Hammond doesn't speak da streetz on a regular basis, he does understand and the woman gives him the phone before closing the door in his face. Hammond looks at the cell phone in his hand. All right, he thinks. What's going on? Jack is dead; he can't have called anybody. Could he?
The Base, More specifically, Hammond's Office
He is pacing around his office, thinking the last couple of days over. Who the hell had the idea to leave Jack be? Why didn't he go after him? Hammond clenches his fists and kicks the wall like he was David Beckham striking the scoring goal. His foot feels like a lump of wood afterwards but it helps manage his anger. The phone rings. He picks the cell phone up and answers. Jack is speaking.
"Hello, sir. Did you get my message? I'm sorry I couldn't tell you myself. Anyway, how are you? I didn't mean to leave you like that, by the way. I…I just couldn't deal with it sir."
Hammond stares at the device. "Who are you? Jack is dead; there is no way he couldn't be. I demand that you tell me why you are playing this prank…"
He continues for a while. Jack is obviously getting annoyed. "Sir, are you done yet?" he says. "It's me, Jack. Anyway, I'll see you soon." The phone goes dead. Hammond places it back on his desk and bangs his head on the concrete wall, hard. Having no idea what to make of the situation, he just sits there, feeling a little dizzy.
Before long, the phone rings again. He picks it up, this time more hesitantly. Jack wasn't on the phone again, but someone else was.
"Hi, sir, it's Sam here."
Hammond performed the same routine that he had with Jack with Sam - demanding that she expose her fraud, demanding her identity and all that dramatic stuff. She too claims to be Sam Carter; the Sam Carter that Hammond knows to be dead. He hangs up and chucks the phone into the trashcan. He is feeling very angry. Is this some kind of practical joke? Who is actually on the other end of that line? He growls in frustration and hurls something else across the room. Hammond goes back to playing FFX Runner as he cannot think of a single to do or to say or to express his anger in the most civilized fashion.
He's doing quite well; the FBI van in the game has just got crushed and Hammond has passed the first lot of boom gates. He gets himself past a sticky situation and…the phone rings again. He is annoyed; he had hoped when he had thrown it in the bin, it would have broken and he would have no longer bothered him. But, obviously not. Feeling a little guilty, he answers the cell phone, vowing that it would be the last time.
"Hello?"
"Oh! Hello sir! Still around, are you?"
Major Kawalsky? What next?
This time Hammond drops the phone on the ground and stamps on it. There is no way that it could still be working. After that, he gets his sorry ass down to the infirmary thinking, am I going crazy? What the hell is going on?
Infirmary
"Well, sir, I can't find anything wrong with you," says Janet Fraiser, looking through her test results carefully.
"They were on the phone. I heard them. I heard them!"
Janet looks at him. "I'm sorry, sir, who was on the phone?"
Hammond gives her a look to say, 'like, duh'. "Jack, and Sam, and Major Kawalsky!" His is weird; he sounds kind of excited.
"Sir, you said that Colonel O'Neill and Sam were dead, and Major Kawalsky has been dead for over four years. You couldn't have been speaking to them on the phone."
Hammond's look changes. He is angry. "I spoke to them! Don't you believe me?" He gets up and holds Janet up by her collar.
"Airman!" She yells, struggling against her CO. A couple of airmen from outside restrain Hammond and take him to a holding room while Janet calls County Mental Health.
County Mental Health: Room 203
Hammond is sitting alone in a rubber room. He is thinking. Again.
All I seem to do these days is think, he revises, poking at the walls for no reason in particular. He hears the door unlock and turns his head. Doctor McKenzie and his bunch of psychologists walk in, about two of them each holding a needle. McKenzie smiles. Hammond almost throws up. If McKenzie noticed, he didn't say anything except, "time for your shots, General."
Every four hours, they came in and did this. Hammond's condition didn't change a little bit. He kept on yelling at them how Jack and Sam and Major Kawalsky had called him and that they had to believe him. Gradually the doses got bigger and bigger, and more frequently. He knew that it was a matter of time before he could handle no more.
He hears Doctor McKenzie come in. He is holding another syringe. Hammond gets up to, uhh…convince the good doctor that he is telling the truth. McKenzie is too quick for him; as soon as he saw Hammond moving, he jabbed the syringe into his arm. Hammond feels himself falling, as if in slo-mo, as the sedative started to kick in. He falls the short way back to the rubber floor. He is completely still. His does not draw breath. His lymph nodes are clogged with the drugs he does not need in his system. Hammond will not wake up. His last days were spent as a suspected lunatic.
After another four hours, McKenzie walks in with his medicine and all that crappy-do. He is expecting to be almost strangled, but isn't. He sees Hammond lying on the floor, motionless.
The drugs should have worn off ages ago, he thinks to himself. He goes over and checks for a pulse. He does not find one. He looks at the medical staff at his heels.
"He's dead," McKenzie says. "He didn't need the medication. Either he was allergic to all of the drugs that I gave him and it just took a while to show or he was telling the truth about his dead friends calling him."
Unknown Location
Hammond opens his eyes. He is lying on a floor, but not the rubber floor of the mental institution, but a hard, stone floor. He picks himself up, feeling rather confused. The last thing he remembers is having the sedative injected into him. He remembers the feeling of life slipping away with each passing moment. If this is not the rubber room at the mental institution, he is dead. Hammond looks in front of him and behind him. The corridor he is in extends for miles in either direction. He chooses a path at random and starts to walk down it. Suddenly, he hears a voice in his head.
No, it says. Not this way; you are supposed to go the other way.
"No," says Hammond. "I will not listen to you. I will go this way."
Hammond finds himself on the ground, as quick as a flash. Red light is gushing out of his eyes, nose and mouth. The pain is almost unbearable. The pain stops as quickly as it started. Hammond picks himself up off the ground. But he feels something different. He tries to take a step, but he can't. He tries to say something, but his lips won't form the words.
"We must go and find Jack and Sam," Hammond hears his mouth saying. But he is not the one saying it. He attempts to say something. He is now the voice in his head.
Why? Why do we need to find Jack and Sam. Are they here?
"Yes, they are here. Before we say anything else, I would like to introduce myself. I am Tetrium, and I was made and implanted in your brain by your people. They combined chemicals that produce our species. We are created to control in the afterlife. I have full motor control of this body. You will not override me. Your people are the reason I am here. They are the reason why you are here. You need to help me reclaim power over this afterlife."
No! We don't need to take control. They have done nothing.
"Oh, yes they have," says Tetrium. "They left you alone. Your wife, Jack, Sam… They are the reason you were put in the mental institution. If it were not for them, you would be still alive. I would not exist. So I am thankful you are here. You will help me gain power."
Are you an idiot? They're dead! I'm dead! We're all dead! We're all equal! No one can have more power!.
"I have been in this situation before," says Tetrium. "You forget this. I know something you do not."
Hammond yells, but can do nothing to prevent the oncoming event.