"Becky?"
"Mmph." Turning on her side, burrowing further into the blankets.
"C'mon, sweet. Time to wake up."
"Five more minutes," she mumbles into the pillow. Why can't they leave her alone?
"Oh, for crying out loud. Rebecca Ellen Grahme, you get out of bed this instant!"
The blankets are pulled away and she reluctantly sits up. That voice sounded awfully familiar, almost like-
No. No way.
Becky rubs her eyes, blinking in surprise. "Mom?"
Golden sunlight streams through the curtains, setting off auburn hair belonging to the woman standing at the foot of her bed. Petite frame, blue eyes but no glasses, jawline similar to her brothers. The faintest whiff of Shalimar drifts in the air, her favorite perfume.
She smiles. "Good morning, sweet. Sleep well?"
"I guess. What are you doing here?"
"Don't you remember? You're getting married tomorrow."
"I'm what?"
"Allison, is my granddaughter awake yet? I'll never understand how you raised her to be such a night owl." An elderly woman appears in the doorway, wildly wispy gray hair, a smile permanently engraved into worn features.
Becky gapes at her. "Grandma Ellen?"
"Well, I sure ain't the Tooth Fairy!" But she's grinning as she says it. "Your father picked us up from the airport while you were at your hen party last night, or whatever they're calling it these days."
Allison grins. "Bet Harry raised a fuss about leaving Minnesota."
"Did he ever. But I told him his great-granddaughter's wedding is too important to miss and we can afford the shop to sit quiet for a spell. Mission City will just have to make their own coffee this weekend."
"Wedding?" Becky repeats, dumbfounded.
"Of course, silly girl. Have you forgotten it's the most special day of your life? Allison, find your daughter something to wear. Everyone's here and breakfast's almost ready so don't keep us waiting."
"Sure, Mom." Allison opens the closet. A lacy white dress hangs from the back of the door.
Becky stares in disbelief, eyes darting between the dress and her grandmother. "What's going on? Why am I getting married? Who am I marrying?"
"Oh, aren't you full of questions this morning! I remember those pre-wedding jitters both times I married. Don't worry hon, they'll pass soon enough. See you two downstairs."
Impossible. Grandma Ellen died when Becky was ten.
Didn't she?
At first it all seems like a dream, too full of miracle and wonder to be real. But the confusion fades quickly away, just as her grandmother predicted.
She has a thriving, successful career, surrounded by people she loves. Tomorrow she's marrying a wonderful man who loves her and supports her every endeavor.
Everything is as it should be.
The whole family's here for the wedding, the comfortable Craftsman-style house filled as never before even at Christmas.
Harry and Ellen, Mom and Dad. Chris and his girlfriend on leave from the Navy, both newly promoted and lawyers working in the same JAG office. Jack and Sara, as nuts about each other as Becky's ever seen them. Charlie playing with Mac and Nikki's two rambunctious boys in the backyard, kicking around a soccer ball and laughing.
The world is at peace, life is perfect. Nothing can go wrong.
Yet a nagging doubt lingers in the back of her mind, insisting something's not quite right.
The ruins are old, very old. Daniel thinks possibly dating back to the Ancients, abandoned like everything else in the Milky Way then re-occupied by the Goa'uld-forced human diaspora.
Now it lies abandoned once more.
While the architecture's durable enough-stone laced with naquadah to last through the centuries- the pavement seems less so. A later addition, cracked and weathered by countless years of exposure to the elements from which vines, weeds, small bushes and even trees emerge to seek the sunlight.
Daniel takes it all in with keen wide-eyed interest, even delight. Beside him Becky feels a certain smug satisfaction. Today's his birthday, and after coming across a cryptic mention in Huy-Braesealis' database she'd suggested P2M-571 to Jack and General Hammond for a mission as his present ("All the ruins and rocks Danny could ask for," as Jack noted with amusement. "Sure, why not?"). Daniel's fully aware this was her idea, going by the appreciative grin occasionally thrown her way.
Back home a party is being arranged by Walter and Janet in his honor, with cake and everything. Then later on a second, more private celebration, just the two of them. Her body tingles at the thought of blue bedroom eyes darkening seductively as he unwraps her in the privacy of their bedroom...
Jack hefts his P90 and frowns. "I got a bad feeling about this place, campers."
Daniel rolls his eyes. "You always do, Jack. You worry too much."
"Years of experience, Danny."
"I am concerned as well," Teal'c speaks up. "It is far too silent for a municipality of this size. We should surely have seen some of this planet's wildlife occupying these dwellings by now."
Sam frowns, looking around. "Now that Teal'c mentions it, sir, neither have I. Most unusual."
"See, Daniel, I'm not the only one who thinks this is freaky. Let's not stick around too long, okay?"
"But we're almost to the central plaza, Jack." Daniel's voice has taken on a subtle whining tone. "There's a building these plaques call the Palace of Memory. It could be a civic installation of some kind. I really want to see what's inside."
Jack utters a long-suffering sigh. "Of course you do. I swear sometimes, Spacemonkey-" Becky throws him a pleading look behind Daniel's back and he subsides. "Fine. You're the birthday boy. Whatever you say goes."
The Palace of Memory looms over the plaza, long corridors with high ceilings radiating from a central domed structure in all directions, like an asterisk if viewed from above. The only sounds breaking the eerie stillness are their own footsteps and voices.
And just as empty as everywhere else, save for row upon row of petal-shaped pods lining every corridor from floor to ceiling. Every pod appears to be lit and active, containing people of all ages and physical types. But there's something odd about them...
"Do they look dead to you guys or is it just me?" Becky wonders out loud.
"Not just you, Beck. I was thinking the same thing," Jack agrees.
Teal'c peers into one nearby pod. "The occupants do not appear to be breathing. These must be for preserving their bodies, in order to prevent untimely decomposition."
"It's possible," Sam muses as they at last enter the building's central chamber,"but maintaining an entire city's worth of stasis pods in perpetuity requires an enormous power source, possibly of greater capacity than that of a ZPM. It's something we should look into while we're here."
Becky shivers. "I hope we can do it quickly. This place is reminding me more and more of a mausoleum."
"Yeah, and if that weird-looking machine over there is anything to go by I'd hate to meet the undertaker," Jack quips, indicating the grotesque silver lotus shape dominating the room. A tangle of silvery tendril-like cables lead from it down every corridor.
Beautiful. Unreal. Disturbing as hell.
Sam and Daniel seem completely unaware of the danger, pouncing on the machine as if it held the solutions to every mystery in the universe. Fortunately Teal'c and Jack are more immune to its charms, trading a look of shared resignation for their teammates' incautious curiosity.
Becky joins Daniel in investigating when he asks for her help but she's secretly wishing to get out of here as soon as possible. Some birthday present this turned out to be.
Jack shifts uneasily on his feet. "How much longer, guys? This is giving me a serious case of the creeps."
"Soon, Jack, soon." Daniel leans close to examine another engraved plaque.
"Just another couple minutes, sir." Sam studies a control screen. "I think I can access the operating system from here and bring up a diagram."
Becky frowns. "Um, Sam, I wouldn't touch that if I were you-"
Too late.
A swarm of thick silvery cables emerge from within the machine, seeking them out.
"Damn, I hate it when I'm right." Jack fires his P90 at one questing metallic tentacle, only to be grabbed by another right behind him.
She gasps as a tentacle tightly winds around her, lifting her into the air along with the others-
Becky wakes with a start, eyes wide, heart pounding.
God, what a weird dream. Almost like she'd actually been there with them. Which of course is impossible.
Outside night still hangs, calm and quiet. The glowing golden numerals of the clock read just past midnight.
She plumps the pillow and turns over, closing her eyes. Yet for some reason her mind's not letting her fall back asleep.
Hot milk with chocolate sprinkles might go a long way in fixing that.
Grandma Ellen's sitting alone in the kitchen, nursing a steaming mug. "Trouble sleeping, kiddo? Must be excited about tomorrow."
"Must be," joining her at the table. "I just had the strangest dream."
"Really? I'd love to hear it."
"Well, it was me and Uncle Jack, a man with glasses, a big black guy and a blonde woman. We were exploring a strange alien city together. We'd just started investigating this enormous silvery flower of a machine when these tentacles reached out to grab us and then-"
"And then?" Staring at her with a curious intensity.
"And then I woke up." Becky shakes her head. "Funny thing is, it felt more like a memory than something I imagined."
"Mmm. Must be all that sci-fi stuff you read. Always been a bookworm."
"I suppose so. What do you think it means?"
"Sounds like pre-wedding jitters to me. I shouldn't give it any more thought if I were you."
She's probably right. "Can I ask you something else?"
"Shoot."
"What do you do when real life exceeds your dreams?"
"Keep it to yourself." Smirking at her own quip. Mom, Mac and Jack come by their dry sense of humor honestly. "Seriously sweet, I just want you to be happy. You ought to be grateful for all you've been blessed with, today and the rest of your life."
"I am, believe me. But-"
"Hush, now," setting a steaming cup in front of her. Becky doesn't remember watching her make it. "Don't you fret none about what you can't change. Tomorrow's another day, after all. Drink your hot milk and go back to bed, you'll be fast asleep in no time. Trust me, it'll all make perfect sense when you wake up."
Something still doesn't feel right.
Even so her grandmother has a point. Tomorrow is another day, the biggest in her life so far.
And the hot milk with chocolate sprinkles is delicious. The perfect inducement for peaceful, dreamless sleep.
A simple yet expressive wedding, the hotel ballroom filled with family, friends, co-workers and other guests sitting patiently in rows. Some people's outfits seem a trifle outlandish, but Becky's never paid much attention to current fashion anyway.
The decorated room glimmers in crystal chandelier light, shimmering golden drapes and huge matching urns filled with flowers. Dylan's mother insisted on arranging the decorations herself, and he inherited her exquisite taste.
"Do you, Dylan Rhys, take Rebecca Ellen as your lawfully wedded wife…"
The groom says I do. The minister drones on.
As the focus shifts to her the feeling things aren't right returns in full force. Something to do with her family.
There are people here who really shouldn't be. Such as Grandma Ellen, dying of cancer when she was ten. Her parents and brother, their car colliding with a runaway logging truck.
Those aren't the only discrepancies. It's all coming back to her now.
Jack and Sara separated after Charlie died, divorcing when he returned from the initial mission to Abdyos with Daniel. Mac and Nikki never tied the knot, much less had kids. Harry died from a heart attack, the shock prompting Mac's careless fall and his own near-death experience.
And Dylan never proposed to her. She wasn't ready for more than a platonic relationship so they broke up, not long before the Big Quake.
Besides, he doesn't hold a candle to her beloved raven. Not in the least.
The minister pauses and "Dylan" raises his eyebrows at her expectantly. Everyone holds their breath.
"I can't marry you," she blurts out. "You aren't real. None of this is."
Dropping the bouquet at his feet, she gathers the hem of her dress and flees down the aisle. Much more nimble than she should be in high heels, as if needing further proof of unreality.
Sprinting out of the ballroom, making a left through double doors, stopping on the terrace to catch her breath. Leaning heavily on the railing, chest heaving as she takes in great gulps of air.
The hotel's perched on a high cliff overlooking an impossibly blue Pacific Ocean. An awfully long way down to the crashing waves below.
She swallows, realizing she should've gone in the opposite direction. Now there's no escape.
"Young lady, you are a disgrace. Get back in there and marry that man this instant!" Grandma Ellen's glaring at her, hands on hips.
Becky turns to face her. "No, I won't. This is wrong. Everything about the past two days has been wrong. I don't belong here."
"Are you sure? Isn't this all you've ever wanted since you were a little girl- to be beautiful and perfect, popular and successful, marrying a handsome man who worships the ground you walk on?"
"Yes. And no. Those were nothing more than childish fantasies, born out of loneliness and insecurity. I've come to accept myself on my own terms. I already have a fulfilling career, family and friends who care about me, a man I love and hope to marry someday. Which was never going to be Dylan, by the way. This has to be a simulation of some kind, a virtual reality."
Ellen's smile is oddly chilling. "Is that so? How can you tell?"
"Because whatever this is it can't distinguish between fantasy and reality. There are people here I know have been dead for years, or never existed in the first place. And this sure isn't Old Earth. I was Witness to its total destruction."
Her ersatz grandmother goes still, cocking her (its?) head, studying her through slitted golden eyes. "Interesting. You and your friends are much more perceptive than I initially projected. Despite everything all five of you persist in rejecting the perfect worlds I've spun based on your secret desires."
Her friends. Yes. Members of her team, and more than that. Her family.
Uncle Jack, wily and snarky with a heart of gold. Brave, brilliant Sam, talented in so many ways. Teal'c, wise and patient, a warrior with hidden depths.
And Daniel. Literally pulling her back from the brink when she needed it most, partner and colleague, best friend and lover.
That was a memory she had last night, not a dream. They're still on the planet.
"And you aren't the Tooth Fairy, or my grandmother for that matter. So what do you really look like? Are you even part of the system? A rogue virus infecting the programming, hoarding the souls of dead people in their pods for your own cruel experiments?"
"Perceptive indeed. Though they had already succumbed to their paltry pedestrian illusions by the time I arrived." Shifting into a dark swirling mass, all tentacles and golden eyes."Terrifying, am I not?"
Becky's never been more grateful for her uncles' example of feigning nonchalance in the face of intimidation. "I've seen worse. It's a big universe."
"Very true, yet inconsequential compared to the larger multiverse. I've sampled countless realities and you mortals are always the same- never satisfied, spending your pitifully short lives striving for more instead of cherishing what you already have."
Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp/Or what's a heaven for? From a poem she once read in a university lit course. "Call it human nature because for good or ill, it's what we do. It's how we got this far as a species."
"Perhaps. Nevertheless you are unusual specimens. I'll enjoy picking your souls apart, and yours in particular. Such an intriguing mystery."
"I sincerely doubt that. There's nothing special about me."
"Ah, but you're wrong. I've observed multiple realities in this cluster yet you only seem to exist in this one. You've become a nexus of sorts. I sense the fate of entire galaxies swirling around you."
"Flattery will get you nowhere. I refuse to play in your sandbox anymore. Release me and my friends immediately!"
"Oh, I think not." Long dark tentacles reach out, pinning Becky's arms to her body. "You're staying here forever in this lovely fantasy I've created for you. You'll never want to live in dull dreary reality again once I'm done with you. Just like everyone else."
Becky struggles to free herself from the tentacles' grasp, only to find them tightening with every movement. She's stuck here until her body withers and dies, preserved indefinitely in a pod. Same as the other trapped souls who gave up on the real world to inhabit false virtual ones, devoid of substance and meaning.
No. Not gonna happen.
Pure illusion, right? She can escape this hellish perfection any time she wants. All it takes is a little imagination.
Becky closes her eyes and concentrates. Tentacles binding her immediately dissolve into black smoke. The ground shakes as the simulation begins to tear itself apart. Golden lines form in mid-air behind her, outlining a door, above it the word EXIT in neon green.
The creature falters, shifting back into Grandma Ellen. "What is happening?"
"You have no power over me. I'm done here." Becky faces the ocean. A long way down, but since it's not real her fear of heights no longer applies."Game over. You lose."
"You cannot escape! Stop what you're doing this instant. Stop it, I say!"
Reality shatters into glittering fragments of light. All that remains in the darkness is a door glowing golden.
As the creature howls in frustration she steels herself, stepping into mid air.
Leaving the nightmare behind once and for all.
Becky opens her eyes, raising herself to a sitting position as the pod cover lifts out of sight.
Back in the real world, thank goodness. That was too close.
Four more pods open. To her immense relief their occupants awaken and sit up, alive and well.
Jack groans, rubbing his head. "Sheesh. Anyone get the license number of the truck that hit us? I have a doozy of a headache."
"So do I." Daniel adjusts his glasses as he looks first at the pod he's sitting in then around the vast chamber. "Um, anyone remember how we got in these?"
"Beats me, Danny."
"I cannot recall either, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c says.
Sam swings her legs over the edge. "Colonel, I can access the machine's logs, figure out what happened to us."
"You do that. But hurry, I've got a really squirrelly feeling about this place-" His radio crackles to life. "Hold on a sec, Carter."
"Base to SG-1, do you copy? SG-1, come in, over," in Hammond's voice.
"SG-1 to base. What can we do for you, General?"
"Thank god. You missed your scheduled check-in, SG-1. We decided to raise you on the radio one last time before sending a search party through the Gate. What happened to you?"
Sam checks her watch. "According to this we're been unconscious for over twelve hours. But that's impossible, we just arrived in this room." Her brow furrows."Didn't we?"
Jack shrugs and touches his radio. "Truth be told sir, your guess is as good as ours."
"I see. Is anyone gravely injured?"
"No, sir. All fine and dandy, except maybe for headaches and some memory loss."
"Very well. Report back to New Earth immediately. Dr. Fraiser and her team are on standby."
"Copy that, base. We'll be home directly. SG-1 out."
"See you soon, Colonel. Base out."
"All right campers, you heard the man," Jack says briskly. "Time's a wasting so let's skedaddle-"
Becky holds up a hand. "Wait a sec. There's something we have to do first."
"What are you talking about?" Daniel asks her.
She points to the silvery nightmarish flower. "Destroying that."
"Why? This technology's unlike anything we've seen before. Shouldn't we study it instead, find out what happened to these people?"
"Absolutely not. Look, I can't explain but I have a gut feeling this wasn't originally the mausoleum we think it is. More likely a communal virtual reality of some sort which the citizens couldn't escape. Any other visitors might wind up just as trapped as these poor souls," waving her arms to encompass the entire building. "I don't want that on my conscience, do you?"
"Becky's right, Daniel," Sam says thoughtfully. "This reminds me more and more of the Game Keeper's facility on P7J-989, only without survivors. It's too dangerous to be left intact."
He blanches. "Oh, right. That place. You'll get no argument from me."
"Not much of a garden spot, that's for sure," Jack agrees."You heard 'em, T. Shut it down."
"Indeed," raising his staff weapon. Two energy blasts later the machine shorts out and collapses, the protective silvery casing of the central control pillar cracking open to reveal a black amorphous shape swirling within flawed crystal.
Jack visibly shudders. "Talk about freaky. One more time for good measure, okay?" Teal'c complies, reducing it to a smoldering heap of rubble.
Becky shivers herself, recalling pure maliciousness concealed under the facade of curiosity and altruism. From everyone else's sudden thoughtful expressions they're also remembering more of their ordeals.
"So when did you guys figure out it wasn't real?" she asks.
"It took a while for me," Sam admits. "I was shown what I once believed would be a perfect life. Commander of the Space Shuttle, the first woman to walk on the moon, that sort of thing. My mom alive and proud of me..." She clears her throat. "Well. Everything I thought I wanted growing up."
"Same for me, more or less. Yet in the end it all seemed too perfect. That's when I knew everything wasn't real. The worst part was realizing just how much." Daniel removes his glasses to wipe away tears.
Becky takes his hand, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. "You okay?"
"I will be," squeezing back. "Thanks for asking."
"You're welcome." She pauses. "I'm really sorry."
He looks down at her, brow furrowed. "For what?"
"For ruining your birthday. I'd hoped this world would be everything you'd want in a mission- ruins and artifacts and translations to study. I even made sure Jack behaved himself for once."
His puzzled expression morphs into a rueful smile. "That explains a lot. You know, the moment I started to suspect things were off was after I took a good look around and realized you weren't there to share it with me."
She blinks at him. "Seriously?"
"Uh-huh," lifting her hand to his lips.
"Oh, raven," she whispers, a tear trickling down her cheek.
He tenderly brushes it away with a long finger. "It's okay, hummingbird. I forgive you. This is one birthday I won't forget anytime soon. I only hope we can share a belated private celebration later at home," he adds with a wink.
She's never been so glad for her tendency to blush easily. It hadn't been part of the simulation.
The whole time Teal'c and Jack remain silent, caught up in painful memories of their own. Becky knows better than to press, not that they'd ever willingly share the details with the rest of the team.
Well, not unless they got very, very drunk. And maybe only Jack.
Finally he takes a deep breath and turns his back on the smoldering heap, putting on his sunglasses. "All right, campers. Enough loitering. Let's move out."
In every corridor they pass through all the stasis pods preserving a long-dead population have gone completely dark, leaving the building a mausoleum in truth. Hopefully these poor souls can finally rest in peace, seeking the ultimate escape.
"You were correct to order the machine destroyed, Becky Grahme," Teal'c presently observes. "We were shown what it believed we desired the most, and thus could never be. That is why we could not leave it operating for others to encounter."
"We really were lucky to escape its clutches when we did," Sam concurs. "Offering us the ultimate temptation to spend a false eternity among long-lost loved ones, spun within an illusion so perfectly self-contained no wonder it could almost be mistaken for the real thing."
Becky nods. "Perfect except for one noticeable flaw. The inability to distinguish between fiction and reality, fantasy and memory. The people of this world must've lost the knack long ago to their detriment."
"Yeah, well, given a choice I'll take reality any day of the week. It sure won't be messing with anyone else's heads now," Jack remarks in satisfaction. "Can't believe I'm saying this but Janet's awful-tasting headache remedy would really hit the spot. Hopefully there's leftover birthday cake to wash it down. Right, Danny?"
Daniel shakes his head. "Only you would think of cake at a time like this."
"Hey, a man's gotta have a hobby…"
Some time later a swirling black cloud rises above the ruins, taking on the form of an old woman with wild, wispy hair. An enigmatic smile crosses its face before resuming its original appearance and vanishing into thin air.
Yes, this reality clearly merits further study.
An intriguing mystery indeed.
Notes:
Quick references to classic MacGyver S05 E21, "Passages" and SG-1 S02 E04, "The Game Keeper."
The quote is from the poem "Andrea del Sarto" by Robert Browning. You can find the full text at the Poetry Foundation's website.