-1CHAPTER TWO

STARGATE COMMAND, JULY 17, 1998, 1100 HOURS

Quinn Mallory sat, alone, in a cell in what was evidently the Brig, here at the military installation that he and his companions had slid into, about two hours previously. As he sat on the lumpy cot which, along with a stainless steel toilet, made up the only furnishings in the room, he thought back over the past couple of hours since their arrival here. The memories were not happy ones.

First, a bunch of guys in haz-mat suits came in. Everyone in the Gate Room was forced to strip naked…the Decon Team had been kind enough to bring along a couple of portable screens which gave Wade Welles and the female officer some privacy, but all the men were made to strip off in front of each other…and then forced to wash with a solution which smelled like a combination of hospital cleaner and bug spray. According to the no-nonsense Sergeant who led the Decon Team, whatever the stuff was, it was pretty much guaranteed to kill just about any virus or bacteria it came into contact with. Quinn wrinkled his nose. He could STILL smell the stuff.

Meanwhile, their clothes had been taken for decontamination as well, and they had all been issued with green fatigues which were quite uncomfortable. Then, Dr. Fraser, a diminutive but very attractive woman with short auburn hair and brown eyes…I wish all doctors were that pretty, he thought to himself…had come in, doing a cursory inspection of them and taking blood and tissue samples. When she was done, several very unfriendly-looking airmen had come in and, at gunpoint, moved them out of the Gateroom. They were taken to a small room where their fingerprints were taken, and then to a shower room, where they were allowed to take a quick shower to wash off the worst of the odor left by the decontaminant, and then brought here, to the brig, to await further action by their captors.

And now, here he sat. What are we going to do?, he thought miserably. Up to now, we've been lucky, he thought. We've only rarely slid into a new world in plain sight of the inhabitants. Somehow, they had usually ended up dropping into a secluded location, and thus could try to pretend that they were, in fact, inhabitants of whatever world they were visiting. That had made their lives much, much easier. On the few worlds where that had not happened, the result had been a nightmare of danger and pursuit as they tried to stay ahead of the locals long enough to slide out again.

Thinking of that made him think of the timer which had been confiscated from him in the Gateroom. It was that device…my own invention, he thought proudly to himself…which created the vortex through which he and his companions came to this world. Those vortexes connected not places, but alternate realities. For the past two-plus years, Quinn and his companions had slid…"Sliding" was the name Quinn had given the process of traveling through these vortexes…to world after world, all of them Earth, but all different. Indeed, the timer had always placed them within just a few miles of the point from which they had last traveled. And then, it had granted them a limited time, anywhere from a few minutes to a few weeks, to exist in and study the alternate reality in which they found themselves, before the timer ran down and automatically created a new vortex.

That, Quinn knew, would not happen for another ten days (he had been amused when Colonel O'Neill had asked him if the timer was a bomb. Who sets the timer on a bomb to go off in ten days?), at least this time. And Quinn also knew that, if they did not leap through that vortex when it appeared, the timer would not create another for twenty-nine years. We have to get the timer back, he thought to himself. But how? I doubt we're capable of taking on the United States Air Force.

The United States Air Force. But of WHAT United States? Had they landed back home on Earth Prime…something they had hoped for since this whole adventure started…or was this just one of the myriad alternate Earths which were nearly identical, save for minor differences, which they had encountered over and over on their journey?

As all of these thoughts were racing through his mind, he heard a buzzer sound as the lock on the door was disengaged. The door opened, and Colonel O'Neill came in, accompanied by an armed security guard.

"General Hammond would like to speak to you now," O'Neill said. "Come with me."

Not seeing any alternative, Quinn did as he was instructed. They walked down a long corridor, painted in hues of gray and olive green…I could get really depressed if I had to work in a place like this, Quinn thought…and finally came to another door. O'Neill pressed a button beside the door, and the door opened.

"After you," the Colonel said.

Quinn stepped through the door, and saw that he had entered a conference room. Seated around a large table were General Hammond…still wearing a grimly determined expression as he watched Quinn enter…as well as Dr. Daniel Jackson, Captain Carter, and his traveling companions, Wade, Remmy (as Rembrandt preferred to be called) and Professor Arturo. Several security guards stood in different places around the room, keeping watch on the strangers.

"Have a seat, Mr. Mallory," General Hammond said. "You, too, Colonel." Quinn and O'Neill took the remaining empty seats around the table.

"Now," said General Hammond, "let's start from the beginning. You told us your names. We've located some interesting information about you, with the help of the FBI and law enforcement authorities in San Francisco."

"And what information is that," Quinn asked, almost afraid of what he might be told.

"It seems that the four of you disappeared without a trace a little over two years ago," Hammond said. "What's more, it appears that you all disappeared on the same day." He handed them copies of the missing persons files retrieved from the San Francisco Police Department. "And now," he continued, "you arrive here, through what looks very much like a wormhole. Would you care to explain that, Mr. Mallory?"

Quinn's mind was racing. He looked at his Missing Person's File, staring at the photograph attached to it. It was his university I.D. photo, taken about a month before he tested the Sliding Machine for the first time. He looked at the others, seeing their stunned expressions as they reviewed their own Missing Person's Files. Were they thinking what he was thinking? Were they home? Could it be true?

General Hammond's voice broke him out of his reverie. "I asked you a question, Mr. Mallory. Please do me the courtesy of an answer."

Quinn looked into Hammond's eyes. "Yes, I think I can," he said.

Professor Arturo grabbed his arm. "Quinn, are you sure about this?," he asked.

Quinn nodded. "Yes. I think it's the only way." Turning to Hammond he said, "General, do you believe in the existence of parallel universes?"

Hammond sat back in his chair, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "Yes, I do, as a matter of fact," he said. "In fact, we know that they do exist."

Quinn was shocked to hear this stark admission. But rather than admit this, he played his cards close to the vest, asking "You mean you know its been theorized, among quantum physicists involved with string theory and similar fields."

Daniel Jackson smiled, shaking his head. "No, Mr. Mallory…can I call you Quinn?…we know that it goes beyond theory and into the realm of fact. I've been to some alternate universes myself…"

"That's enough, Dr. Jackson," Hammond said, shaking his head.

"Yes, Sir," Jackson said, falling silent.

"As Dr. Jackson said," Hammond told Quinn, "we've had some experiences which have confirmed the reality of alternate universes."

"I see," Quinn said, flabbergasted. "I thought we were the only ones."

"So you're saying you came here from an alternate universe?," Hammond pressed.

"Yes. No. Let's just say its more complicated than that," Quinn replied. Seeing the unamused expression on Hammond's bulldog-like face, he continued.

"General, based on what you've shown us here today, I am of the opinion…or at least I'm hoping, beyond hope…that we came from this world, and this universe, and are now home, finally, once again. But in between our disappearance and our arrival here, we have passed through many, many alternate universes, and our immediate arrival here was, indeed, from an alternate universe."

Before Hammond could speak, Captain Carter cut in. "But how," she asked. "How did you do it?"

Quinn smiled. "The timer device you took from me creates an Einstein-Rosen Bridge…are you familiar with that term, Captain?"

Carter's eyes lit up. "Why yes, I am." Turning to General Hammond, she continued. "Sir, Albert Einstein and fellow physicist Nathan Rosen theorized that if an object had strong enough gravity, it could warp space, creating a tear that would link parallel universes. The only known object in the universe with that kind of force is a black hole. Einstein and Rosen held that anyone who could enter the black hole would find a wormhole that would take them to another universe. That's the Einstein-Rosen Bridge. There were two problems with the Bridge. The first is that the same gravitational forces generated by a black hole which warp space would also crush anyone who tried to enter the black hole. The second is that the wormhole itself is inherently unstable and will collapse before an object could pass through its entire length. But in 1963, mathematician Roy Kerr came up with a way that someone could approach the black hole, avoiding the force, to enter the wormhole. And in 1988, Kip Thorne and Mike Morris demonstrated that an Einstein-Rosen wormhole could be held open by infusing it with exotic matter." Her mouth dropped open. Turning back to Quinn, she exclaimed, "You're saying you accomplished this?"

By this time, Colonel O'Neill was rubbing his temples. Looking at General Hammond, he said, "Sir, did you understand any of that?" He glanced over at Rembrandt Brown, who was sitting there with his eyes glazed over, staring into space, and Wade Welles, who, like O'Neill, was rubbing her temples. He grinned. Good to see I'm not the only one she affects that way, he mused silently.

By now, Carter and Mallory were having an animated discussion about a subject both of them obviously found fascinating, but which was barely understood by anyone else in the room, except perhaps Professor Arturo, who sat, listening, smiling, and nodding. Finally, O'Neill could stand it no longer.

"Carter!," he exclaimed. "We get it. You and Mallory are both nerds."

Mallory, rather than being offended, laughed heartily. Carter grinned sheepishly, then turned back to Hammond.

"General," she said, "to make a long story short…"

"Thank God," muttered O'Neill. Rembrandt snickered, as did Wade Welles.

Carter gave him a dirty look, then turned back to Hammond. "As I was saying, Quinn has developed a way to artificially create a wormhole connecting two alternate universes."

"You mean, something like the Mirror device I encountered on planet P3R-233?," Daniel Jackson asked Carter.

"That's similar, but not an exact parallel," Carter said. "The Mirror was Ancient technology and doesn't make use of a wormhole. Indeed, we still don't really have a clue how it works. The device Quinn invented actually works more like a Stargate."

General Hammond, watching Quinn as he absorbed the conversation between Carter and Jackson, cleared his throat.

"Captain Carter, Dr. Jackson, I think discussion of such things should be limited, for now," he said. Looking at Quinn, he said, "To return the discussion to it's original track, you're saying that when you and your companions disappeared, you used your device to create a wormhole and travel to another universe."

Mallory nodded. "That's correct, General."

"Why haven't you returned before now?," Hammond asked.

"Well," Quinn said, "I'm still not sure we have returned, General. The fact that you did find these Missing Person Reports is encouraging, but it wouldn't be the first time we arrived on a world and thought it was our home, only to find out later that we were mistaken." He sighed. "And if we don't leave here when the timer runs down in ten days from now, we'll be stuck here for twenty-nine years."

"What was the purpose of the timer, anyway?," Captain Carter asked.

"It was supposed to be an insurance policy, intended to make sure we got home," Quinn said sadly. "But I didn't realize that if the device was used to open a wormhole before the timer ran out, it would lose its fix on our home world and begin sending us to different worlds on a completely random basis. We found ourselves in a situation where we had to leave a world we visited immediately or be killed, so I created a wormhole before the time ran down. Since then, we've essentially been lost, bouncing between realities with only the hope that the timer would, one day, send us home."

"Well," General Hammond said, "perhaps what we ought to do first is to confirm that you are in fact from our world." He looked at Captain Carter.

"Captain, why don't you speak more with Mr. Mallory and his companions, and gather a list of facts that we can have checked out to determine if this is, in fact, their real home."

"Yes, Sir," Carter said.

"And what if they are, as they say, home," Colonel O'Neill said. "What do we do with them?"

Hammond scratched his bald head as he thought about it. "Well," he said, "It appears that Mr. Mallory and Professor Arturo may possibly prove useful to our program, and we can discuss such an option with them. The other two, after they've signed the appropriate waivers, can go home, if they wish."

"Of what program do you speak, General Hammond?," Professor Arturo asked.

Hammond smiled. "We'll talk about that later, possibly. In the meantime, Colonel O'Neill, see that these people are given more comfortable accommodations. They may be here for a while."

Quinn cleared his throat. "The timer runs out in ten days, General Hammond. If this is not our home, we have to leave when it runs out."

"We'll see, Mr. Mallory," the General replied, rising from the table. "We'll see."