Ambitions, Part 05
Title: Ambitions
Author: Soledad
For disclaimer, rating, etc., see the secondary index page.
PART 05
Author’s notes:
Kavanagh checks out his new home, learns quite a bit of SGC history and gets to see a Goa’uld for the first time.
Warning: Goa’uld-related ickyness!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sergeant Bates drove them for about twenty-five minutes, then he turned into a side street on the left, then another two times to the right. Finally, he stopped the van in a quiet little lane, not completely unlike the one in which Calvin had lived in Pasadena, with L-shaped, two-story houses, surrounded by relatively large gardens.
“That’s the one,” Bates pointed out the house on the other side of the lane. It seemed to have been unoccupied for quite some time: in a good shape, but the garden too perfectly manicured for someone actually living here.
“It’s been empty for a couple of years, serving as a guest house for long-time visitors, the staff sergeant says,” Bates added, as if reading Calvin’s thoughts. “It’s furnished, but if you don’t want to keep the furniture, it can be stored elsewhere. Colonel Makepeace, the last permanent inhabitant, won’t need any of the stuff.”
“Why not?” Jonas asked.
“He’s serving a life sentence for treason,” Bates answered with a grim smile. “His needs are taken care of in Fort Lauderdale.” He handed Calvin the keys and a piece of chalk. “I’ll come back for you in about two hours’ time, doc. Take a good look around, and mark all the things you want to be removed. Someone will come later to get the unnecessary stuff to storage.”
He ushered them out of the van and drove away, to do whatever task he’d been appointed with.
“Well,” Jonas said to the still hesitant Calvin, “shouldn’t we go in?”
“Yeah, we should,” Calvin agreed, opening the front door.
He liked the house instantly. It had large windows that allowed the light and the sight of the garden into the building, making it bright and airy, and tinted with green from the light bouncing off the garden. The kitchen was of a sensible size, and a slide glass door led directly into the dining area with a large, massive oak table, six chairs of the same style and, surprisingly enough, bookshelves under the windowsill.
“Nice view,” Jonas commented, meaning the lush garden in full bloom that could be seen through the large dining room window.
Calvin nodded wordlessly, making a mental note to establish some sort of fence around the garden, so that Tommy wouldn’t accidentally run onto the street. He hoped that wasn’t against regulations. He’d have to ask Bates. The sergeant seemed to know about everything concerning the CMOC and its personnel.
Having taken a look at the kitchen and the dining room, they reached a T-junction at the end of the hall. There was a railing for stairs that led down to the basement in front of them. Going down the stairs, they found a surprisingly large room, cleaned out and completely empty. About a third of it was separated by a room divider that also could have been used as a book-case. The entire basement had a row of small windows, directly under its ceiling, providing enough light to read… well, barely.
“Hmmm, not bad,” Jonas judged. “It would make a nice study for you, and you’d still have some storage space if you wanted.”
Again, that was true enough. He could work here without being disturbed by whatever noise his boys decided to make upstairs, while the rest of the family would have enough room to live. His old desk would fit in perfectly, and as for other furniture, after the first paycheck he might be able to buy some.
They went upstairs again and along the corridor that went off to their right from the T-juncture. There they found a large living room, three small bedrooms, a bathroom and another short stairway that led to the second floor. Which had originally been an attic, most likely, but turned into another living area, with two bedrooms and an additional bathroom.
As they were walking around the house, Calvin felt the knot in his stomach slowly getting loose. The house was perfect. The furnishing and furniture plain and a bit conservative, but they could change that, given enough time - and some money, which he was going to have, sooner or later. They hadn’t been lying to him. He could bring his family here. The boys would have their own room each, and should Dion choose to move in with them again after graduation, he could have one of the bedrooms in the first floor.
“Let’s take a look at the garden,” he said, and Jonas followed him readily.
He was less interested in the garden itself than in finding a corner where they could put Patrick’s little workshop. The man needed to work in order to remain sane, and even if only for his own family. Until he found some work outside, he could do all the little changes that needed to be done for the house to become their home.
The garage was large enough for two cars, but that wouldn’t be the best solution. They would need two cars eventually, for the entire family to stay mobile, and they needed to stay mobile with two children who had so very different needs in terms of school and everything else. So they couldn’t turn half the garage into a workshop.
Fortunately, they found some sort of little barn on the other side of the garage; apparently, the gardeners used it to keep their tools there. Well, as their services wouldn’t be used any longer, they could take the stuff with them and Patrick could move in with his own tools.
Looking up, he saw Jonas watching him with a broad grin.
“You like the place,” the young man - well, alien - declared in satisfaction.
Calvin nodded. “It will do,” he said, a little haughtily, but only to somehow conceal his immense relief.
He liked the place indeed. In fact, it was almost too perfect to be true.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He spent another hour or so with marking the pieces of furniture that needed to be put into storage. They were property of the military, according to the labels on the underside, so he didn’t want to keep any that weren’t necessary. But some of the furniture they had back in Pasadena belonged to the landlord and some pieces were beyond repair, even for Patrick, so he couldn’t send everything away here.
When he was done, they returned to the living room and waited for the return of Sergeant Bates, sitting on the sofa in comfortable silence for a while.
“Would you mind if I called my family?” Calvin asked, fishing the cell phone out of his pocket.”
“Do you wish to be alone?” Jonas was rising already, but Calvin stopped him.
“That’s not necessary. I won’t tell them anything that you don’t know already.”
The phone rang four times before someone answered it in Pasadena.
“O’Malley,” Siobhan’s voice said, taut with anxiety.
“It’s me, Siobhan,” Calvin said.
“Calvin, oh God, Calvin, I’m so glad to hear your voice,” Siobhan, always a sea of calmness, even in times of the one or other crisis, sounded almost hysterical. “Are you all right? We were getting really afraid here.”
“I’m sorry, sis, but I couldn’t call you earlier,” Calvin apologized. “Cell phones don’t work under two thousand feet of solid granite. I’m fine, don’t worry.”
“Where are you now?” Siobhan asked.
“In Colorado Springs,” he said. “I’m measuring up our new home. I think you’ll like it.”
“Did you get the job then?” she inquired.
“Yes, it seems so,” he said. “I’ll have the first meeting after lunch, but since I got the keys already, I think it’s a done deal. How are things back home?”
“We’ve nearly finished packing,” she told him. “Patrick’s taken most of the boxes to the movers. We can board a plane any time you’re ready to pick us up.”
“I don’t know yet how long it takes to sign all the papers and make the arrangements,” Calvin said. “Hopefully no longer than a couple of days. I’ll call you as soon as I can. I’D like to speak with Tommy now, is it possible?”
“He’s had a bad day,” Siobhan warned. “I’m not sure he’ll come to the phone. And Liam refused to go to school.”
“That was to be expected,” Calvin sighed. “All right, I’ll speak with Liam first. Try to cajole Tommy to the phone in the meantime, will you?”
“Try is the key word here,” Siobhan replied. For a moment, she was murmuring something off the phone, and then Calvin could hear the tentative voice of his firstborn.
“Papa?” His sons never called him Father, that cold and distant title belonged to the Reverend, but for some reason Liam didn’t call him Dad, either. He wasn’t sure why; most likely as a result of their separation.
The boy had said Dad to him before… well, before Bethany’s snatch-and-run action, but never afterwards. Something had been broken during their time apart, something that hadn’t quite healed yet. So they had settled for Papa, one of the few words Tommy introduced to the family’s vocabulary.
“Papa?” Liam repeated anxiously. “Are you coming home, soon?”
“No, little bit,” pet names didn’t come easily to him; they had been heavily frowned upon in the Reverend’s house, and the indoctrination so thorough that he still had difficulties using them. But Liam desperately needed the reassurance, so he tried his best, even if it sounded awkward in his own ears. “You’re coming here - all of you. We got a new house. It’s bigger than the old one, and it has a real garden. You’ll love it.”
“When can we come to you?” Liam asked, between longing and suspicion. Calvin sighed, wondering how long it would take for the boy to trust adults again.
“In a few days,” he promised. “I have a few things to take care of here first, but then you’ll board a plane with Aunt Siobhan and Uncle Patrick and come here. Would that be all right?”
“Ye-es,” Liam allowed reluctantly.
“In the meantime, I want you to go to school, every day,” Calvin said. “The new school I hope to enrol you here is a good one, but if you miss classes back home, it’ll be much harder for you to catch up with the other kids here. Understood?”
He’d researched the schools in the Cheyenne Mountain School District 12 and found one that he thought would be good for both boys, having kindergarten and a student support center for both the gifted children and those in need for special care. He hadn’t had the time to talk to the principal yet, but he hoped that there won’t be any problems to get his sons in.
“Understood,” Liam replied sullenly. He found school boring, since he was so much smarter than the other kids of his age, but Calvin knew he would obey. He might rebel against his aunt and uncle but he’d never dare to rebel against his father. Sometimes Calvin doubted that that was really such a good thing. He didn’t want his boys fear him like he’d feared the Reverend when he was little. But it could be useful at times like that.
“That’s my boy,” he praised. “Now, is Tommy anywhere near?”
“He’s sulking,” Liam told him, in a tone that made it very clear how unfair he found that Tommy was allowed to sulk while he wasn’t. “Won’t come to the phone.”
Calvin sighed. That was to be expected, too. Tommy reacted to changes even worse than Liam, since he didn’t understand them.
“All right, then,” he said. “Tell him I miss him. I miss you all. I’ll call you again tomorrow, if I can, but don’t worry if it takes a day or so longer. Be a good boy, little bit.”
“Yes, Papa,” there was a little pause, and then Liam’s voice began to tremble. “I miss you, too,” and with that, the boy hung up.
Calvin pocketed his cell phone and slumped onto the sofa again, hoping that Jonas won’t be asking any questions. He missed his family badly but wasn’t willing to discuss them with strangers.
Not even with friendly aliens who took him in with open arms.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sergeant Bates had managed to get him back to the CMOC in time - barely - and they had the most thorough debriefing of their lives. Them being Simpson, Kusanagi, Felger and himself, plus some other people he didn’t recognize; based on their accent, they had to be Russians.
At any other time, he’d have found it disturbing that the US military was working together with the Russians on some top secret project. Right now, however, he was being confronted with so many facts that were a great deal more disturbing that the Russians were the least of his concerns. Really, it was several magnitudes worse than any sane person could have digested in the short time available - and the stuff for serious nightmares.
He’d always thought that pollution and/or nuclear warfare would be the biggest threats for Earth.
Well, he’d been mistaken, obviously.
Although both the General and Colonel Whatshisname (the one he’d nicknamed MacGyver) were present, Dr. Carter - no, Major Carter - was the one to give them the short summary of the events that had happened in the recent six years. Short being relative, of course. Fortunately, she was a very good speaker, drawing the mental pictures in clearly defined lines and showing them some real pictures to illustrate her words.
Still, it was all very hard to take.
Parasitic aliens on a crusade for world domination at the best of times, or utter destruction at the worst.
Sentient snakes that lived inside human bodies, dominated their hosts’ will and mind and made their eyes glow; not to mention cause them to speak funny, like in a stupid horror movie.
Alien invaders in human disguise who appeared on the less developed planets, acting as local gods - and, by the way, were bickering among each other in the petty and less than god-like manner of ancient Greek gods - but, unfortunately, also possessed a technology that was millennia beyond everything Earth could currently offer.
That last part buggered Calvin most. He loved challenges, but he preferred ones that he actually had a chance to master.
Still, it seemed that they could learn a lot about the technology gotten from those Goa’uld. And then there was the long-extinct race of the Gate builders, whose knowledge was positively beyond imagination.
Too bad that it was mostly lost knowledge.
But then, there were the Asgard, with such a striking resemblance to the imaginary Roswell aliens that it would have been hilarious, had they not been real. Plus, the fragile little guys seemed very technically savvy. They had once been allied to the Ancients - the Gate-builders - after all.
Which didn’t save them from having their scrawny grey asses beaten across several galaxies by semi-sentient, bug-like little robots. Against whom the more primitive Earth technology seemed to be a lot more effective.
Life was definitely strange.
Strange being relative, especially caught up in this nightmare of really weird science fiction.
Only that it was the reality. Which made the whole thing even harder to swallow.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“This was only a rough outline of the Stargate program,” Major Carter finished. “You’ll be given access to the mission reports that might in any way be related to your work, of course.”
“Does it include detailed descriptions of alien technology?” Calvin asked, still sounding fairly ridiculous in his own ears.
Carter nodded. “Of course, Dr. Kavanagh. We hope that your knowledge about liquid crystals will be a considerable help with Ancient technology, which is almost entirely crystal-based. Currently, we’re trying to reverse engineer the technology. Unfortunately, we’re still light years away from actually being able to do so, but that’s why you are here.”
“I thought I was supposed to go to other planets through that ridiculous gate of yours,” Calvin said, frowning. He ignored the protesting noises coming from Felger’s direction.
“You are,” Carter said, “but only on a semi-regular basis. Our teams go through the Gate, make basic survey, and if they find anything promising that can’t be removed and brought back, we send in the scientists and technicians.”
“That’s a relief,” Calvin commented. “People with our IQs are too valuable to be used as cannon fodder.”
“Don’t worry, doc,” Colonel MacGyver said dryly. “That’s what people like me are here.”
The others, however, didn’t take Calvin’s remark as good-naturedly as the Colonel had. Simpson shot him looks that could have frozen Hell over (which practically proved that she had to be an army brat), Kusanagi seemed frightened, and Felger… Felger was spluttering with indignation.
“Doctor, do you have an idea whom you’re talking to? I mean, they’re SG-1! The best of the best! And Major Carter… she’s single-handedly revolutionized our knowledge of Stargate technology…”
“I’m trembling with excitement,” Calvin replied in a bored tone. He knew it wasn’t the wisest thing to do, but Felger’s ass-kissing annoyed the living hell out of him.
“… and she goes on of-worlds missions all the time!” Felger finished, as if he hadn’t heard him.
Calvin shrugged. “She’s military. We’re not.”
“No, you’re a coward,” Felger growled.
“And you are a pathetic idiot,” Calvin riposted. “You’re not supposed to be a superhero - that’s what the military types are for. You’re supposed to be a super-geek. We all are. That’s why we were called in. So, let’s do our job and allow the soldiers to do theirs.”
Colonel MacGyver gave him a sardonic smile. “You know, doc, I might come to actually like you.”
Carter rolled her eyes and murmured something like ‘why am I not surprised?’ but in a manner that clearly showed that she wasn’t really upset with her commanding officer. It must have been a really old teasing game between the two of them.
“Well,” she said, “now that you’ve - hopefully - understood what we’re dealing with here, I’d like to ask you to got to the office of our personnel chief and sign your contracts. They are binding for the next two years, after which both sides can choose to renew it - or not. There will also be a lawyer present, should you have any legal questions concerning your contract.”
“When will we be assigned to our off-world teams?” Simpson asked.
“You’ll be given four days to get your bearings both on the base and in Colorado Springs,” the General answered. “After that, your work starts here, full time. Should you need any help with getting settled, turn to the officer assigned to the scientific team. He’ll provide anything you might need, from transportation to the help with dealing with local authorities. Any further questions?”
“Actually, I do have one,” Felger seemed a bit nervous, but determined all the same. “We’ve been told a lot about these Goa’uld, but - are we ever gonna see one?”
“Why’d you like to do that?” Colonel MacGyver asked incredulously. “Those snakes are disgusting - and seeing one wouldn’t do any good for your work here.”
“By all due respect, Colonel, we need to know what we’re fighting against,” Felger protested, apparently eager to glare down the enemy - as long as it was securely contained.
“You’re not fighting the snakeheads, Professor,” the Colonel said dryly. “We are fighting them. You’re here to give us the means to that fight.”
“But what if we have to face them off-world?” Felger wasn’t going to back off. “We might freeze in the most inappropriate moment if we’re not prepared.”
“Oh, you’ll freeze in any case,” the Colonel promised. “Long enough for me - or any team leader - to haul your ass back through the Gate before the shooting and name-calling and all the other ugly stuff even starts.”
“Still, we have the right to know what we’re up against,” Felger pressed, driven by God knew what inane wish to play hero. Calvin felt the almost irresistible urge to throttle him. By the looks of it, the Colonel was nurturing similar wishes.
General Hammond and Colonel MacGyver shared sour looks.
“It’s your decision, Jack,” Hammond said. The Colonel rolled his eyes.
“Oh, for crying out loud…” he leaned towards the microphone. “Teal’c can you come to the briefing room? Seems it’s showtime again.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A few minutes later the big, bald, tattooed alien walked into the room, looking mildly exasperated.
“O’Neill,” he said as a form of greeting.
Colonel MacGyver - well, actually O’Neill - made a vague gesture towards the gathered scientists.
“The guys want to meet Junior.”
A questioning eyebrow was raised slowly. “Are you sure it’s wise, O’Neill? Remember, last time…”
“No,” the Colonel interrupted crossly. “I’m positive that it’s a very bad idea. But they won’t leave it be, so would you mind to show off the little snake a bit?”
“As you wish, O’Neill,” and with that, the big man began to unbutton his shirt without hurry.
To the horror - and ill-disguised disgust - of them all, the opened shirt revealed an X-shaped slit in the man’s belly, directly above his navel. The slit didn’t appear to be a wound, though. It looked as if it was either a natural opening, like the pouch of a kangaroo, or one the man’s body had been carrying for a really long time.
As they were watching with morbid fascination - Calvin could see Simpson’s face from the corner of his eye; it was so chalk-white that her freckles stood off like tiny flames - a small, translucent white worm stuck its head out of the crossed slits, twisting and whining. It had some sort of curved incisors and no eyes at all, unless the tiny black spots were serving as his eyes, which Calvin somehow doubted. Perhaps it was blind.
It certainly didn’t seem sentient, but Calvin had understood from the recent debrief that one day it will, and when that day arrives, this helpless, disgusting little thing will become a ruthless and dangerous creature, equipped with the racial memory of its entire race. There was something vaguely unsettling in that thought.
In the next moment his attention was turned away from the worm because Felger fell onto his knees and threw up noisily on the briefing room’s floor. Simpson and Kusanagi, too, looked as they might get sick any time, and Calvin felt his stomach turn around as well. The Russians watched the scene stoically, but their faces were suspiciously white.
Colonel O’Neill made an impatient gesture.
“I think they’ve seen enough, Teal’c, you can put Junior to bed again.”
“It seems to be a wise course of action,” the big alien agreed, allowing the worm to retreat into the pouch, and closed his shirt again. “I would prefer not to repeat this performance every time some new people get assigned to SGC, but I fear it is inevitable. You Ta’uri are a most peculiar folk.”
“Some of us more than the rest,” Simpson shot Felger an appalled look, patted Kusanagi on the back, and then looked at Calvin. “You okay?”
“I’ll be in a moment, hopefully,” Calvin swallowed a few times convulsively to force his rebelling stomach to calm down. “It’s just… a lot to take.”
The memory of meeting Teal’c in the commissary in that very morning surfaced for a moment. He doubted he’d be able to eat there again for a very long time. There were things that just didn’t mix. Like semi-sentient, parasitic worms that lived in the bodies of big, bald aliens… and food. Any food.
Simpson apparently guessed what was going on in his head because she nodded briefly.
“Can you give me a hand with Miko?” she asked. “I think we better get her to the infirmary before she passes out from the shock.”
Calvin glanced at the nearly catatonic Japanese woman and grabbed her arm when she started swaying on her feet.
“We’d better hurry,” he said, and they practically dragged poor Dr. Kusanagi out of the briefing room and towards the elevator, leaving Felger and his upset stomach to the military to deal with.
Miko’s legs gave in after a few steps. Calvin reached under her arms and knees and swept her up. Fortunately, she wasn’t a heavy-weight.
“I have her,” he said to Simpson. “Go ahead, call the elevator and keep it on this lever.”
Simpson nodded and hurried away. Calvin followed her more carefully, the true weight of what he’d gotten himself into coming crashing down upon him like a brick wall.
Part 06
Author: Soledad
For disclaimer, rating, etc., see the secondary index page.
PART 05
Author’s notes:
Kavanagh checks out his new home, learns quite a bit of SGC history and gets to see a Goa’uld for the first time.
Warning: Goa’uld-related ickyness!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sergeant Bates drove them for about twenty-five minutes, then he turned into a side street on the left, then another two times to the right. Finally, he stopped the van in a quiet little lane, not completely unlike the one in which Calvin had lived in Pasadena, with L-shaped, two-story houses, surrounded by relatively large gardens.
“That’s the one,” Bates pointed out the house on the other side of the lane. It seemed to have been unoccupied for quite some time: in a good shape, but the garden too perfectly manicured for someone actually living here.
“It’s been empty for a couple of years, serving as a guest house for long-time visitors, the staff sergeant says,” Bates added, as if reading Calvin’s thoughts. “It’s furnished, but if you don’t want to keep the furniture, it can be stored elsewhere. Colonel Makepeace, the last permanent inhabitant, won’t need any of the stuff.”
“Why not?” Jonas asked.
“He’s serving a life sentence for treason,” Bates answered with a grim smile. “His needs are taken care of in Fort Lauderdale.” He handed Calvin the keys and a piece of chalk. “I’ll come back for you in about two hours’ time, doc. Take a good look around, and mark all the things you want to be removed. Someone will come later to get the unnecessary stuff to storage.”
He ushered them out of the van and drove away, to do whatever task he’d been appointed with.
“Well,” Jonas said to the still hesitant Calvin, “shouldn’t we go in?”
“Yeah, we should,” Calvin agreed, opening the front door.
He liked the house instantly. It had large windows that allowed the light and the sight of the garden into the building, making it bright and airy, and tinted with green from the light bouncing off the garden. The kitchen was of a sensible size, and a slide glass door led directly into the dining area with a large, massive oak table, six chairs of the same style and, surprisingly enough, bookshelves under the windowsill.
“Nice view,” Jonas commented, meaning the lush garden in full bloom that could be seen through the large dining room window.
Calvin nodded wordlessly, making a mental note to establish some sort of fence around the garden, so that Tommy wouldn’t accidentally run onto the street. He hoped that wasn’t against regulations. He’d have to ask Bates. The sergeant seemed to know about everything concerning the CMOC and its personnel.
Having taken a look at the kitchen and the dining room, they reached a T-junction at the end of the hall. There was a railing for stairs that led down to the basement in front of them. Going down the stairs, they found a surprisingly large room, cleaned out and completely empty. About a third of it was separated by a room divider that also could have been used as a book-case. The entire basement had a row of small windows, directly under its ceiling, providing enough light to read… well, barely.
“Hmmm, not bad,” Jonas judged. “It would make a nice study for you, and you’d still have some storage space if you wanted.”
Again, that was true enough. He could work here without being disturbed by whatever noise his boys decided to make upstairs, while the rest of the family would have enough room to live. His old desk would fit in perfectly, and as for other furniture, after the first paycheck he might be able to buy some.
They went upstairs again and along the corridor that went off to their right from the T-juncture. There they found a large living room, three small bedrooms, a bathroom and another short stairway that led to the second floor. Which had originally been an attic, most likely, but turned into another living area, with two bedrooms and an additional bathroom.
As they were walking around the house, Calvin felt the knot in his stomach slowly getting loose. The house was perfect. The furnishing and furniture plain and a bit conservative, but they could change that, given enough time - and some money, which he was going to have, sooner or later. They hadn’t been lying to him. He could bring his family here. The boys would have their own room each, and should Dion choose to move in with them again after graduation, he could have one of the bedrooms in the first floor.
“Let’s take a look at the garden,” he said, and Jonas followed him readily.
He was less interested in the garden itself than in finding a corner where they could put Patrick’s little workshop. The man needed to work in order to remain sane, and even if only for his own family. Until he found some work outside, he could do all the little changes that needed to be done for the house to become their home.
The garage was large enough for two cars, but that wouldn’t be the best solution. They would need two cars eventually, for the entire family to stay mobile, and they needed to stay mobile with two children who had so very different needs in terms of school and everything else. So they couldn’t turn half the garage into a workshop.
Fortunately, they found some sort of little barn on the other side of the garage; apparently, the gardeners used it to keep their tools there. Well, as their services wouldn’t be used any longer, they could take the stuff with them and Patrick could move in with his own tools.
Looking up, he saw Jonas watching him with a broad grin.
“You like the place,” the young man - well, alien - declared in satisfaction.
Calvin nodded. “It will do,” he said, a little haughtily, but only to somehow conceal his immense relief.
He liked the place indeed. In fact, it was almost too perfect to be true.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He spent another hour or so with marking the pieces of furniture that needed to be put into storage. They were property of the military, according to the labels on the underside, so he didn’t want to keep any that weren’t necessary. But some of the furniture they had back in Pasadena belonged to the landlord and some pieces were beyond repair, even for Patrick, so he couldn’t send everything away here.
When he was done, they returned to the living room and waited for the return of Sergeant Bates, sitting on the sofa in comfortable silence for a while.
“Would you mind if I called my family?” Calvin asked, fishing the cell phone out of his pocket.”
“Do you wish to be alone?” Jonas was rising already, but Calvin stopped him.
“That’s not necessary. I won’t tell them anything that you don’t know already.”
The phone rang four times before someone answered it in Pasadena.
“O’Malley,” Siobhan’s voice said, taut with anxiety.
“It’s me, Siobhan,” Calvin said.
“Calvin, oh God, Calvin, I’m so glad to hear your voice,” Siobhan, always a sea of calmness, even in times of the one or other crisis, sounded almost hysterical. “Are you all right? We were getting really afraid here.”
“I’m sorry, sis, but I couldn’t call you earlier,” Calvin apologized. “Cell phones don’t work under two thousand feet of solid granite. I’m fine, don’t worry.”
“Where are you now?” Siobhan asked.
“In Colorado Springs,” he said. “I’m measuring up our new home. I think you’ll like it.”
“Did you get the job then?” she inquired.
“Yes, it seems so,” he said. “I’ll have the first meeting after lunch, but since I got the keys already, I think it’s a done deal. How are things back home?”
“We’ve nearly finished packing,” she told him. “Patrick’s taken most of the boxes to the movers. We can board a plane any time you’re ready to pick us up.”
“I don’t know yet how long it takes to sign all the papers and make the arrangements,” Calvin said. “Hopefully no longer than a couple of days. I’ll call you as soon as I can. I’D like to speak with Tommy now, is it possible?”
“He’s had a bad day,” Siobhan warned. “I’m not sure he’ll come to the phone. And Liam refused to go to school.”
“That was to be expected,” Calvin sighed. “All right, I’ll speak with Liam first. Try to cajole Tommy to the phone in the meantime, will you?”
“Try is the key word here,” Siobhan replied. For a moment, she was murmuring something off the phone, and then Calvin could hear the tentative voice of his firstborn.
“Papa?” His sons never called him Father, that cold and distant title belonged to the Reverend, but for some reason Liam didn’t call him Dad, either. He wasn’t sure why; most likely as a result of their separation.
The boy had said Dad to him before… well, before Bethany’s snatch-and-run action, but never afterwards. Something had been broken during their time apart, something that hadn’t quite healed yet. So they had settled for Papa, one of the few words Tommy introduced to the family’s vocabulary.
“Papa?” Liam repeated anxiously. “Are you coming home, soon?”
“No, little bit,” pet names didn’t come easily to him; they had been heavily frowned upon in the Reverend’s house, and the indoctrination so thorough that he still had difficulties using them. But Liam desperately needed the reassurance, so he tried his best, even if it sounded awkward in his own ears. “You’re coming here - all of you. We got a new house. It’s bigger than the old one, and it has a real garden. You’ll love it.”
“When can we come to you?” Liam asked, between longing and suspicion. Calvin sighed, wondering how long it would take for the boy to trust adults again.
“In a few days,” he promised. “I have a few things to take care of here first, but then you’ll board a plane with Aunt Siobhan and Uncle Patrick and come here. Would that be all right?”
“Ye-es,” Liam allowed reluctantly.
“In the meantime, I want you to go to school, every day,” Calvin said. “The new school I hope to enrol you here is a good one, but if you miss classes back home, it’ll be much harder for you to catch up with the other kids here. Understood?”
He’d researched the schools in the Cheyenne Mountain School District 12 and found one that he thought would be good for both boys, having kindergarten and a student support center for both the gifted children and those in need for special care. He hadn’t had the time to talk to the principal yet, but he hoped that there won’t be any problems to get his sons in.
“Understood,” Liam replied sullenly. He found school boring, since he was so much smarter than the other kids of his age, but Calvin knew he would obey. He might rebel against his aunt and uncle but he’d never dare to rebel against his father. Sometimes Calvin doubted that that was really such a good thing. He didn’t want his boys fear him like he’d feared the Reverend when he was little. But it could be useful at times like that.
“That’s my boy,” he praised. “Now, is Tommy anywhere near?”
“He’s sulking,” Liam told him, in a tone that made it very clear how unfair he found that Tommy was allowed to sulk while he wasn’t. “Won’t come to the phone.”
Calvin sighed. That was to be expected, too. Tommy reacted to changes even worse than Liam, since he didn’t understand them.
“All right, then,” he said. “Tell him I miss him. I miss you all. I’ll call you again tomorrow, if I can, but don’t worry if it takes a day or so longer. Be a good boy, little bit.”
“Yes, Papa,” there was a little pause, and then Liam’s voice began to tremble. “I miss you, too,” and with that, the boy hung up.
Calvin pocketed his cell phone and slumped onto the sofa again, hoping that Jonas won’t be asking any questions. He missed his family badly but wasn’t willing to discuss them with strangers.
Not even with friendly aliens who took him in with open arms.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sergeant Bates had managed to get him back to the CMOC in time - barely - and they had the most thorough debriefing of their lives. Them being Simpson, Kusanagi, Felger and himself, plus some other people he didn’t recognize; based on their accent, they had to be Russians.
At any other time, he’d have found it disturbing that the US military was working together with the Russians on some top secret project. Right now, however, he was being confronted with so many facts that were a great deal more disturbing that the Russians were the least of his concerns. Really, it was several magnitudes worse than any sane person could have digested in the short time available - and the stuff for serious nightmares.
He’d always thought that pollution and/or nuclear warfare would be the biggest threats for Earth.
Well, he’d been mistaken, obviously.
Although both the General and Colonel Whatshisname (the one he’d nicknamed MacGyver) were present, Dr. Carter - no, Major Carter - was the one to give them the short summary of the events that had happened in the recent six years. Short being relative, of course. Fortunately, she was a very good speaker, drawing the mental pictures in clearly defined lines and showing them some real pictures to illustrate her words.
Still, it was all very hard to take.
Parasitic aliens on a crusade for world domination at the best of times, or utter destruction at the worst.
Sentient snakes that lived inside human bodies, dominated their hosts’ will and mind and made their eyes glow; not to mention cause them to speak funny, like in a stupid horror movie.
Alien invaders in human disguise who appeared on the less developed planets, acting as local gods - and, by the way, were bickering among each other in the petty and less than god-like manner of ancient Greek gods - but, unfortunately, also possessed a technology that was millennia beyond everything Earth could currently offer.
That last part buggered Calvin most. He loved challenges, but he preferred ones that he actually had a chance to master.
Still, it seemed that they could learn a lot about the technology gotten from those Goa’uld. And then there was the long-extinct race of the Gate builders, whose knowledge was positively beyond imagination.
Too bad that it was mostly lost knowledge.
But then, there were the Asgard, with such a striking resemblance to the imaginary Roswell aliens that it would have been hilarious, had they not been real. Plus, the fragile little guys seemed very technically savvy. They had once been allied to the Ancients - the Gate-builders - after all.
Which didn’t save them from having their scrawny grey asses beaten across several galaxies by semi-sentient, bug-like little robots. Against whom the more primitive Earth technology seemed to be a lot more effective.
Life was definitely strange.
Strange being relative, especially caught up in this nightmare of really weird science fiction.
Only that it was the reality. Which made the whole thing even harder to swallow.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“This was only a rough outline of the Stargate program,” Major Carter finished. “You’ll be given access to the mission reports that might in any way be related to your work, of course.”
“Does it include detailed descriptions of alien technology?” Calvin asked, still sounding fairly ridiculous in his own ears.
Carter nodded. “Of course, Dr. Kavanagh. We hope that your knowledge about liquid crystals will be a considerable help with Ancient technology, which is almost entirely crystal-based. Currently, we’re trying to reverse engineer the technology. Unfortunately, we’re still light years away from actually being able to do so, but that’s why you are here.”
“I thought I was supposed to go to other planets through that ridiculous gate of yours,” Calvin said, frowning. He ignored the protesting noises coming from Felger’s direction.
“You are,” Carter said, “but only on a semi-regular basis. Our teams go through the Gate, make basic survey, and if they find anything promising that can’t be removed and brought back, we send in the scientists and technicians.”
“That’s a relief,” Calvin commented. “People with our IQs are too valuable to be used as cannon fodder.”
“Don’t worry, doc,” Colonel MacGyver said dryly. “That’s what people like me are here.”
The others, however, didn’t take Calvin’s remark as good-naturedly as the Colonel had. Simpson shot him looks that could have frozen Hell over (which practically proved that she had to be an army brat), Kusanagi seemed frightened, and Felger… Felger was spluttering with indignation.
“Doctor, do you have an idea whom you’re talking to? I mean, they’re SG-1! The best of the best! And Major Carter… she’s single-handedly revolutionized our knowledge of Stargate technology…”
“I’m trembling with excitement,” Calvin replied in a bored tone. He knew it wasn’t the wisest thing to do, but Felger’s ass-kissing annoyed the living hell out of him.
“… and she goes on of-worlds missions all the time!” Felger finished, as if he hadn’t heard him.
Calvin shrugged. “She’s military. We’re not.”
“No, you’re a coward,” Felger growled.
“And you are a pathetic idiot,” Calvin riposted. “You’re not supposed to be a superhero - that’s what the military types are for. You’re supposed to be a super-geek. We all are. That’s why we were called in. So, let’s do our job and allow the soldiers to do theirs.”
Colonel MacGyver gave him a sardonic smile. “You know, doc, I might come to actually like you.”
Carter rolled her eyes and murmured something like ‘why am I not surprised?’ but in a manner that clearly showed that she wasn’t really upset with her commanding officer. It must have been a really old teasing game between the two of them.
“Well,” she said, “now that you’ve - hopefully - understood what we’re dealing with here, I’d like to ask you to got to the office of our personnel chief and sign your contracts. They are binding for the next two years, after which both sides can choose to renew it - or not. There will also be a lawyer present, should you have any legal questions concerning your contract.”
“When will we be assigned to our off-world teams?” Simpson asked.
“You’ll be given four days to get your bearings both on the base and in Colorado Springs,” the General answered. “After that, your work starts here, full time. Should you need any help with getting settled, turn to the officer assigned to the scientific team. He’ll provide anything you might need, from transportation to the help with dealing with local authorities. Any further questions?”
“Actually, I do have one,” Felger seemed a bit nervous, but determined all the same. “We’ve been told a lot about these Goa’uld, but - are we ever gonna see one?”
“Why’d you like to do that?” Colonel MacGyver asked incredulously. “Those snakes are disgusting - and seeing one wouldn’t do any good for your work here.”
“By all due respect, Colonel, we need to know what we’re fighting against,” Felger protested, apparently eager to glare down the enemy - as long as it was securely contained.
“You’re not fighting the snakeheads, Professor,” the Colonel said dryly. “We are fighting them. You’re here to give us the means to that fight.”
“But what if we have to face them off-world?” Felger wasn’t going to back off. “We might freeze in the most inappropriate moment if we’re not prepared.”
“Oh, you’ll freeze in any case,” the Colonel promised. “Long enough for me - or any team leader - to haul your ass back through the Gate before the shooting and name-calling and all the other ugly stuff even starts.”
“Still, we have the right to know what we’re up against,” Felger pressed, driven by God knew what inane wish to play hero. Calvin felt the almost irresistible urge to throttle him. By the looks of it, the Colonel was nurturing similar wishes.
General Hammond and Colonel MacGyver shared sour looks.
“It’s your decision, Jack,” Hammond said. The Colonel rolled his eyes.
“Oh, for crying out loud…” he leaned towards the microphone. “Teal’c can you come to the briefing room? Seems it’s showtime again.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A few minutes later the big, bald, tattooed alien walked into the room, looking mildly exasperated.
“O’Neill,” he said as a form of greeting.
Colonel MacGyver - well, actually O’Neill - made a vague gesture towards the gathered scientists.
“The guys want to meet Junior.”
A questioning eyebrow was raised slowly. “Are you sure it’s wise, O’Neill? Remember, last time…”
“No,” the Colonel interrupted crossly. “I’m positive that it’s a very bad idea. But they won’t leave it be, so would you mind to show off the little snake a bit?”
“As you wish, O’Neill,” and with that, the big man began to unbutton his shirt without hurry.
To the horror - and ill-disguised disgust - of them all, the opened shirt revealed an X-shaped slit in the man’s belly, directly above his navel. The slit didn’t appear to be a wound, though. It looked as if it was either a natural opening, like the pouch of a kangaroo, or one the man’s body had been carrying for a really long time.
As they were watching with morbid fascination - Calvin could see Simpson’s face from the corner of his eye; it was so chalk-white that her freckles stood off like tiny flames - a small, translucent white worm stuck its head out of the crossed slits, twisting and whining. It had some sort of curved incisors and no eyes at all, unless the tiny black spots were serving as his eyes, which Calvin somehow doubted. Perhaps it was blind.
It certainly didn’t seem sentient, but Calvin had understood from the recent debrief that one day it will, and when that day arrives, this helpless, disgusting little thing will become a ruthless and dangerous creature, equipped with the racial memory of its entire race. There was something vaguely unsettling in that thought.
In the next moment his attention was turned away from the worm because Felger fell onto his knees and threw up noisily on the briefing room’s floor. Simpson and Kusanagi, too, looked as they might get sick any time, and Calvin felt his stomach turn around as well. The Russians watched the scene stoically, but their faces were suspiciously white.
Colonel O’Neill made an impatient gesture.
“I think they’ve seen enough, Teal’c, you can put Junior to bed again.”
“It seems to be a wise course of action,” the big alien agreed, allowing the worm to retreat into the pouch, and closed his shirt again. “I would prefer not to repeat this performance every time some new people get assigned to SGC, but I fear it is inevitable. You Ta’uri are a most peculiar folk.”
“Some of us more than the rest,” Simpson shot Felger an appalled look, patted Kusanagi on the back, and then looked at Calvin. “You okay?”
“I’ll be in a moment, hopefully,” Calvin swallowed a few times convulsively to force his rebelling stomach to calm down. “It’s just… a lot to take.”
The memory of meeting Teal’c in the commissary in that very morning surfaced for a moment. He doubted he’d be able to eat there again for a very long time. There were things that just didn’t mix. Like semi-sentient, parasitic worms that lived in the bodies of big, bald aliens… and food. Any food.
Simpson apparently guessed what was going on in his head because she nodded briefly.
“Can you give me a hand with Miko?” she asked. “I think we better get her to the infirmary before she passes out from the shock.”
Calvin glanced at the nearly catatonic Japanese woman and grabbed her arm when she started swaying on her feet.
“We’d better hurry,” he said, and they practically dragged poor Dr. Kusanagi out of the briefing room and towards the elevator, leaving Felger and his upset stomach to the military to deal with.
Miko’s legs gave in after a few steps. Calvin reached under her arms and knees and swept her up. Fortunately, she wasn’t a heavy-weight.
“I have her,” he said to Simpson. “Go ahead, call the elevator and keep it on this lever.”
Simpson nodded and hurried away. Calvin followed her more carefully, the true weight of what he’d gotten himself into coming crashing down upon him like a brick wall.
Part 06