A/N: Three tissue alert!

OoOoOo

What she found rocked her world.

Chapter 9: Worse Than I Thought

Sam didn't get much sleep that night. Once she started her Internet search, she couldn't seem to stop. One thing led to another, one news video to another, searching for as much background as she could find.

The news sites were full of it. Continuing coverage of a odd sort of decades long conflict dominated the reports. Everything else in the news seemed to revolve around that one central fact of life. Surprisingly, the nations of the world seemed to take it for granted.

Apparently, in this reality, the Second World War never completely came to an end. For some reason Sam had yet to understand, an agreement had been reached among the main combatants to limit the scope of the war. An isolated desert landscape had been designated as the last battlefield where warring parties came to have at it. And have at it they had. For over sixty years, the battle had continued to rage.

The enormity of the conflict was overwhelming. Though geographically confined to an area normally devoid of dense population centers, the yearly death toll was astronomical. That morbid number was widely displayed on a variety of web sites Sam accessed that night alone. Some, like the one sponsored by a leading TV news network, touted only the cold, hard facts. These sites displayed numbers of casualties suffered by each side, sometimes broken down by sex, sometimes by nationality. Others chose a more graphic, partisan display, complete with streaming video, heralding the relative victories of one side or the other. It was unbelievable.

Sixty years, and no one had triumphed. From what Sam could make out, every five years or so, casualties equalized on both sides, with no one taking a clear advantage in the long run. The feuding powers were still referred to as the Allies and the Axis, yet another sign that in some ways this world had never outgrown the convoluted political situation of the mid-twentieth century.

If Sam read the statistics correctly, now, more than sixty years after the armistice was signed in her reality, each side continued to lose an average of one hundred thousand people per year. The accounts she read expressed relief that few civilian deaths had been attributed to the conflict since the rules of engagement were altered early in 1945. It was as if the population had come to expect a continuing devastation of their military. It was accepted as a way of life. Was that possible?

On practically every site Sam searched, the daily draft numbers were displayed next to the most recent casualty figures. The draft? Sam vaguely remembered the last time military conscription had been the norm in her reality. Vietnam, the seventies, protests, near riots in the streets. If these reports were to be believed, a military draft of some sort had been in operation non-stop since 1945. Both males and females were included beginning as early as 1980. Apparently, anyone between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five was subject to military conscription regardless of status. The exemptions Sam remembered from her own history had been eliminated or never existed here. Everyone had an equal likelihood of being called up. It was literally the luck of the draw. Military service had become a social equalizer.

Even more surprising, both Allies and Axis Powers operated under a parallel system of conscription. And it wasn't limited to the larger, more industrialized nations, those originally comprising the major powers. For years, in this reality, each sovereign nation, no matter its size or resources, had been given a quota, a number of men and women they must contribute to the war effort. For some reason, there had seldom been a hold out when it came to fulfilling this ghastly obligation.

From what she could gather as she continued to search the history of the war, no side had achieved technological superiority. With equal capabilities, resources and numbers of available combatants, it was no wonder there had been no clear winner. What was amazing was that this horror had been allowed to continue for so very long.

OoOoOo

Overwhelmed and depressed by her discoveries, Sam drifted off to sleep one hour before sunrise. Her head lying on the computer table, the screensaver running and sun coming up, her phone began to ring.

"Were you planning to grace us with your presence today?"

"Who is this?" Sam asked, struggling to make sense of the call.

"It's your coworker, Capt. Carter," said the still nameless and clearly irritated voice. "Anytime now would be good. Dr. McKay is more obnoxious than ever today."

"Bill, is that you?"

"Yes, Sam, it's me," Dr. Lee answered. "Who else would it be? We are the only two assigned to this particularly boring project."

"Sounds like I'm late, sorry," Sam sad sincerely, still struggling against the lure of sleep.

"Fine," he replied. "It won't be the first time we've cut you some slack. But get a move on. I'll expect you in twenty minutes." Bill Lee was clearly ready to hang up the phone.

"Wait, Bill," Sam interrupted. "Did you say Rodney's there?"

"Yes, that would be our boss, Egomaniacal McKay," he said. "Even you can't forget him."

Sam flinched inwardly. Could it get any worse? Then, realizing she needed to know what she was supposed to be doing, "I've been out a couple days. How's it going?"

"Get down to Level 19 labs and you'll find out." With that he abruptly hung up.

Okay, Bill, have it your way, Sam thought. At least now I know where I'm going. It's a start.

OoOoOo

Sam seriously considered not going into work today. Without doubt, she'd be a fish out of water. Though disconcerting memories of a second lifetime not quite her own were beginning to surface, she had little idea what she and Dr. Lee had been working on. Still she held out a slim hope that the computer systems, even at this Cheyenne Mountain, would be more advanced than what were available to her at home.

Whatever happened, she'd need access to a lab where she could conduct tests and run simulations that would tell her what went wrong and how to fix it. Of course, first she would need a theory. At the moment she had nothing, nada. Well not exactly nothing, but close to it. Something had happened to change the time line, likely in her home universe.

Last night's extensive reading portrayed Earth's history prior to 1944 or so as identical to what she had been taught as a child. Though she'd happily bow to Daniel's advanced knowledge in that area when he arrived, for now this supported a solid hypothesis as to when the seminal event occurred.

But what was it?

With that burning question planted front and center, Samantha Carter climbed into her sensible four wheel drive Subaru and started out for Cheyenne Mountain. Since coming home from her meeting with Jack, she'd been assailed with pieces of memories she partially recognized. Hers but not hers, she thought, they must belong to the other Sam Carter, the one who lost so much, her husband, her son, her sanity. Hers or not hers, they'd played just under the surface most of the night she'd spent on the computer and as she drove the all too familiar road to work, they took center stage.

Flashes…there were flashes of her and Jack … young, full of life and passion … a torrid affair shortly after their first meeting. She remembered; it was incredible, the strength of their love, their passion for each other, their commitment. They'd met at a social event, purely by chance, never been in the same chain of command. For the first two years they served on opposite ends of the country, with Jack finally moving to Colorado to be near her.

Sam blinked her eyes and drew a deep breath, struggling to clear her mind. A highway accident was not what she needed today. Think Sam, she told herself, stay focused. But it was no use; the memories were here and they would wait no longer.

She and Jack had married shortly after he'd moved to the Springs. Not long after that, Charlie was born. The small towheaded boy she suddenly remembered vividly quickly became the light of their lives.

Sam wisely pulled over to the side of the road as she felt the approaching tide of emotion. First, wonderful maternal feelings for the beautiful boy who'd become the embodiment of their love. Sam was deluged with feelings of warmth and love as she relived Charlie's most endearing antics. What a wonderful little boy he was, she thought.

Then the tenor of the memory changed. In her mind's eye, everything was grey. She could hear herself screaming for Jack. She'd turned her head for only a minute. But that was all it took for all their lives to come tumbling down.

She was in the pool seconds after she saw him. Charlie, her boy, was at the bottom, not moving. He'd always loved the water, was never afraid. How she wished he'd been afraid that day. Maybe he would have waited for her. Maybe he would have cried out, alerted her.

By the time she reached him, it was too late. Jack had made it downstairs just as she lifted their boy's tiny body out of the water. Jack took him from her hands and began CPR while she ran to call for help.

Their efforts were in vain. Charlie was gone before they reached the hospital. At three years of age, the boy's life ended because of her neglect. At least that was the message imprinted on this Sam Carter's heart.

Oh, God, Sam thought, as she sat motionless in the silent Subaru, her eyes streaming with tears. How did they survive? How did they survive at all?

Suddenly, Sam knew she wasn't making it to work today. However angry the Bill Lee and Rodney McKay of this timeline might be, she wasn't going in. This was turning out to be one heck of a sick day.

TBC

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