Chapter 2
Dr. Samantha Carter walked determinedly into the office and stood at attention, waiting to be acknowledged. The general glanced at her and then back at the paperwork. She stood at attention with a long acquainted ease, the bearing of someone long familiar with military stance. She even looked the part of a soldier, her blond hair cut short and her clothes more functional than ascetically appealing. Altogether she exuded strength, confidence, and discipline while somehow managing, despite the drab wardrobe and the minimum touch of make up, to retain a strong willed femininity that belied her traditionally masculine style. If the general didn't know any better, he would have thought her to be at least a captain. As it was, he barely managed to stop himself from saying 'at ease'.
"Dr. Carter," he said instead, gesturing towards a chair, "Have a seat."
"General Hammond," she replied with a curt nod and sat down, holding herself so straight she almost looked rigid, and for the first time the general noticed the anxiety in her pose, hidden behind the otherwise formal stance.
"It says here you wish for a transfer to our underground facility," the general went on, looking over the long list of achievements, "After working for two years at Area 51 in their research division."
"Let's just say I don't approve of some of the NID's methods," she answered, her tone darkening slightly and for the first time her military bearing relaxed slightly, "I hear it's different here."
"You are referring to the mutant experiments," the general asked, frowning slightly himself. Her scowl deepened.
"I'm lucky they decided I'm useful," she answered, "I don't intend to stay around long enough to become a subject."
"So you are a mutant?" the general asked, watching her face closely. She hesitated, a look of uncertainty crossing briefly across her face. With all the anti-mutant groups around it wasn't surprising she hesitated to admit to any form of mutation. The look passed quickly however, replaced by one of determination.
"It's the reason I'm not military, sir," she answered, "I was considered too…unpredictable." Then she lifted her hand, concentrated briefly, and a pen lifted itself from its desk and flew into her hand. The general didn't even blink at this display of paranormal ability. "Telekinesis," she explained briefly. The general nodded. It was all in his report. He shuffled his notes and she fidgeted, finally sending his pen back to his desk.
"What exactly do you know of this institution, Doctor?" the general asked.
"I know it isn't really a military school," she answered, "And I know there is more to the institution than meets the eye." He nodded his head slightly in reply. Her security level clearance was enough to get her that much at least. "My father," she continued, "General Carter, he told me that you were different. That mutants here were respected. Not lab specimens."
"That's right," the general agreed, and she looked at him shrewdly.
"You're a mutant, aren't you sir." He looked at her for a moment with an unreadable expression before he broke out into a grin.
"Dr. Carter," the general said, standing up to offer her a hand, "Welcome aboard."
''''''''''''''''''
Daniel Jackson adjusted his glasses nervously, clutching at his tissue as though it were a lifeline. His allergies had flared up the moment his military transport had hit the first checkpoint. He said it was from travel, which was possible, though the doctors had told him it was at least partly psychological. He really didn't like military institutions.
The elevator didn't help. He always found elevators slightly disturbing. It had something to do with the sense of stepping over a vast emptiness, though the cables at least felt reassuringly steady and strong. This elevator was held over a depth that made him grasp convulsively for a handrail until he found himself huddled into a far corner, the walls reassuring behind his back. He sneezed explosively twice, and the distraction was enough for him to retain his equilibrium. He could sense the cables now, and concentrated on that rather than the empty space that fell beneath them. He really hated military institutions.
"So they keep this top secret project beneath a school?" he asked, glancing nervously towards his escort. The two men stood rigidly with their arms folded before them, staring straight ahead as the elevator dropped. They didn't answer. Daniel shrugged slightly, already knowing probably more than he was supposed to. The school atmosphere they had passed through was obvious to anyone, as was its military nature. He had surmised they were taking him to a military school, which had seemed odd, particularly as it didn't seem to be completed yet; the feel of construction permeated the facility and he saw no students of any kind. It wasn't until they had reached the elevator that he had begun to sense the façade.
Twenty stories down, the elevator finally came to a rest. Daniel breathed a sigh of relief as the doors opened, though stepping out led to another uncomfortable sensation of walking beneath a ton of earth. At least the shaft hadn't felt buried, just deep. He was led to yet another check point, pushed through more doors, and finally led to yet another elevator. His anxiety increasing with every step, Daniel once again questioned his sanity. He hated the military, he hated being underground, and he hated elevators. So why had he agreed to come work in an underground military base?
"Only a little further down, Dr. Jackson," one of his escorts said, and belatedly he realized he had been hesitating to enter the elevator for a bit too long. He shuffled forward cautiously, trying to remind himself of the sensations Catherine Langford had projected. She was sincere when she promised he'd be safe, that he wouldn't be detained or held against his will. He needed the money. If he was totally honest with himself, he needed the challenge, the chance to make discoveries that wouldn't be instantly discredited when he couldn't make a valid explanation for why he knew what he did. It wasn't just that he had nowhere else to turn. Catherine had offered him a chance to explore, to research and learn and teach, and, most importantly, to be believed without the negative anti-mutant reaction, and he intended to take that chance. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the elevator.
It was almost too much. The earth pressed heavily above his head; this shaft most certainly didn't lead up but it did lead down. He was standing over a vast chasm. Instinctively he reached with his senses, trying to find the bottom, and his tenuous hold on everything else left him until all he could feel was the void reaching down and down and down and the earth crushing him from above. He felt himself falling into the void, terror overcoming all his senses, until a sudden warmth invaded the cold, pulling him back.
He felt the heartbeat first, steady and reassuring and he clung to it desperately, pulling away from the fall and the sensation of being crushed. Next he became aware of a hand on his face, stroking his skin lightly, sparks of concern coming off it in waves. Slowly his regular senses returned to him and he discovered he had been pulled out of the elevator, that he was in fact laying against someone's chest while a warm voice spoke into his ear.
"Easy," the unknown voice said, "Feel me here, everything is solid, everything is safe." Daniel gasped slightly, and realized belatedly that he had been breathing in harsh, ragged breaths. He could feel the strain in his muscles, his own distress convulsing off him in waves, and with an effort he started to relax, gulping in deep breaths of air.
"You back with me?" the voice asked and Daniel pulled away, suddenly embarrassed, only to fall back again in a sudden fit of dizziness.
"I'm ok," he said, and the man eased him up further into an upright, seated position. Daniel took a moment to breath, then pushed himself away, stumbling for his feet. "I'm ok," he said again and he turned around to get his first good look at his helper. The man was military, that was apparent from his uniform and despite Daniel's complete lack of military expertise he could feel that the uniform signified someone of importance. The man in the uniform, however, didn't have the usual rigid aura he had come to associate with the uniform. His eyes drew Daniel with their depth, a core of pain, loyalty, a hint of deadly potential but a compassionate heart. He was also unmistakably a mutant, but different than any Daniel had ever known. He couldn't quite pin him down. Like a chameleon, his powers rippled away from his sight. For one moment it was like looking in a mirror and the next all he knew was ice. Finally Daniel blinked and pulled away completely, suddenly aware of how long and how intently he had been studying the man. The eyes simply looked back, impossibly deep, almost painful to look at, waiting for Daniel to catch his bearings.
"Doctor Jackson," someone said from behind him and he turned to see his escort still waiting, looking slightly uncomfortable. They stood next to the elevator but they seemed hesitant to invite him into it once more.
"Going down?" the man who had been his anchor asked, and Daniel started slightly, then sneezed.
"Ah, yeah," he answered, and reluctantly approached the elevator. The other stepped in first ahead of him, offering him a hand.
"Feel my heartbeat," he suggested, his voice gentle, "I won't let you fall." Daniel blushed, realizing suddenly that this man knew exactly what had happened the first time he had entered, but he took his hand and tentatively took a step. The emptiness opened beneath his feet but there was also the warmth of the skin touching his hand, the steady beat of blood and instinctively he did as the man had asked, focusing in on that.
"The cables are strong," the man continued, "You can feel how strong. We won't fall." The doors closed, leaving his escort on the other side. Daniel gasped when the elevator moved, clutching the hand tightly, but the man's other hand reached up to steady him, lying firmly against his back. Finally, as they approached their destination, the sensation of endless depths left him and he felt himself relaxing. The elevator came to a stop. The doors opened as he took a steadying breath, and he pulled away from the other man, stepping through. He blushed again when he found a medical escort waiting for him, complete with gurney.
"Colonel," the small doctor in the lead admonished, "We were coming up to you."
"He just needed a little help coming down," the man answered, "He was zoning on the distance." Daniel tucked away the colonel information for later then blinked in surprise when what the colonel had said penetrated. It must have been something to do with the man's elusive mutant abilities, Daniel surmised.
"Be that as it may, I'd like to check him over myself," the doctor answered before turning her attention to Daniel. "Dr. Jackson? I'm Dr. Frasier. I hear you had a bit of a panic attack in the elevator."
"I'm fine," Daniel answered automatically, shoving nervously at his glasses and eyeing the doctor and the waiting gurney warily.
"Yes, well," the colonel said, suddenly shifting away from them, "I'll just go check in with General Hammond." He started to walk away and Daniel watched him, feeling suddenly bereft at his abrupt departure. Then the man paused, turning back towards Daniel, and the stark pain that filled his eyes made Daniel stumble.
"I'll see you later, Doctor Jackson," he said, before turning again and walking away. Unfortunately, the petite doctor at his side had noticed the stumble and was urging him towards the gurney.
"I can walk," Daniel insisted on autopilot, his mind still going over what he had seen in the colonel's eyes. It didn't help his case that his footing was still a bit unsteady, his heartbeat just a bit too fast for the doctor's liking, but she finally agreed to forego the gurney in favor of a wheelchair. Accepting the lesser of two evils, Daniel allowed himself to be wheeled down the hall in the direction of the infirmary.
"So," he said, conversationally, "Do all military schools have secret deep underground bases or is this one just special?"
"Actually, the school is quite new," Dr. Frasier answered, "They're still thinking up names. At the moment it's a tie between Excelsior and Cheyenne."
"Excelsior?" Daniel asked in horror, "Are they trying to advertise what this place is?" Doctor Frasier stared back at him blankly but one of her nurses giggled.
"So what exactly is this place?" Daniel asked. Dr. Frasier hesitated a moment before saying, "Well Dr. Jackson, welcome to Area 52." Daniel still wasn't sure if she was joking or not when they reached the infirmary.