Adventures Ch 01 - Redemption, Part 3
Title: Adventures
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Stargate - Atlantis
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the secondary index page.
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EPISODE 01 - REDEMPTION, Part 3
Author’s note:
Originally, I intended to finish the first part in two chapters, but they grew to long, and I didn't want to speed up the pace. So I added one more chapter. Some of the dialogue (= the technobabbly) has been lifted from the actual episode, as before.
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The family was relieved to see him, after three days without as much as a phone call. Siobhan and Patrick had learned already not to ask questions about his job, but there was no way to stop a curious seven-year-old, so Calvin told Liam a story that was as close to the truth as safely possible.
“We are working on making better aeroplanes,” he explained, “but the test flight wasn’t successful. The others called me in because I know the most about he fuel the new plane uses.”
“Has Colonel Jack flowed the plane?” Liam asked in concern.
“Flown,” Calvin corrected. “Yes, of course he has. He’s the best pilot we have.”
“Did he get hurt?” Liam continued his inquiry, in obvious worry for his friend.
Calvin smiled. “No. Flight control had him land the plane before things could turn really bad.”
Liam sighed in relief. “That is good. Will you have to go back, Papa?”
“Afraid so,” Calvin replied. “We still haven’t figured out what went wrong with the plane, and they need me.”
“Then we won’t be going to the zoo any time, soon?” Liam asked, a little disappointed.
“Not right away, no,” Calvin admitted, feeling slightly guilty, which was absurd, considering the fact that the whole planet was on the brink of destruction. “But I’ll make up for your lost birthday trip, I promise. The first chance I get another day off, we’ll do it, all right?”
“I know you will,” Liam climbed onto his lap and clung to him for dear life. “Papa…”
“What is it, little bit?” he asked, because the child’s tone revealed already what was about to come.
“Can I sleep in your bed today?” the boy whispered, as expected.
Calvin suppressed a sigh. The first time, after he’d got Liam back from his ex, the boy had adamantly refused to sleep anywhere else but in his father’s bed. The therapist had spoken of separation anxiety; that the kid feared his mother might take him away by force again. Calvin had hoped that they’d outgrown that particular phase, but apparently, his unexpected absence reawakened the boy’s fears. Liam dealt well enough with him being away for days… as long as they could talk at least on the phone and he could reassure himself that his father would, indeed, come home, sooner or later. The last three days’ ‘radio silence’ must have frightened him badly.
“Of course you can, little bit,” Calvin smiled at his son, mentally saying good-bye to any hope for a restful sleep. When scared, Liam still woke up weeping every couple of hours or so. “Should we take Tommy with us, too?”
Liam nodded mutely. Surprisingly enough, the presence of his baby brother seemed to make him feel safe. They had supper together, discussing what the boys wanted to see in the zoo - not that Tommy would have contributed anything coherent to the conversation. Affected by the Fragile-X syndrome, the kid’s vocabulary was limited to strange nicknames of things that the rest of the family had learned to recognize. Still, he was a sweet, affectionate child, in his innocence much more stable than his highly intelligent older brother.
After supper, Calvin took both kids to bed with him, and performed the usual ritual of reading them a bedtime story. They both loved those stories, although they didn’t really challenge Liam’s intellect, while Tommy most likely didn’t get much of them. But it was family time, belonging strictly to them, and they demanded it, whenever their father could get home in time.
Tommy was the first to fall asleep, halfway into the tale, sucking on his thumb, as usual when he was upset. Calvin wasn’t surprised. Tommy had always been very sensitive, attuned to his father’s moods, and no matter how much he tried to keep up a calm appearance, he couldn’t quite shake off the nagging knowledge that the world might end in a couple of hours.
Liam, on the other hand, looked like someone who could stay up all night. Perhaps he, too, was feeling his father’s inner unrest. Plus, being a junior braniac, the not knowing part got to him much stronger than it would to any other kid.
“Papa,” he asked quietly, “something is wrong, isn’t it?”
“Liam, you know I must not speak about it,” Calvin replied. But this time, the kid ignored him.
“Is it really bad?” he asked.
Calvin saw no reason to lie to him. If they died in the next day, it wouldn’t matter. Besides, he didn’t intend to tell the kid any facts.
“It can be,” he admitted. “We might get lucky yet, though. It’s up to your Uncle Jack.”
“Oh,” Liam actually seemed relieved. “That’s good. He always wins, doesn’t he?”
“Most of the time,” Calvin replied, firmly pushing away from himself the memory of all those secret missions in which the colonel hadn’t won. At least the man had always come back alive. “Let’s hope he’ll get lucky one more time, shall we?”
“Is he doing something very dangerous?” Liam inquired. “Like Colonel Danning in Wormhole X-Treme?”
Calvin always found it ironic that his kid would be such a big fan of a cheesy TV-series that was vaguely based on his own work… well, sort of.
“He won’t be fighting aliens,” he said, suppressing the urge to add this time, “but yeah, it can be dangerous.”
“Will he try to fly the new aeroplane again?” Liam asked.
“Yes,” Calvin said, because it was close enough to the truth, and once Liam was on the roll, he couldn’t be stopped anyway.
“Have you fixed what was wrong with it?” Liam continued. Calvin sighed. Now he had to lie something convincingly to shut the kid up. If he could.
“We’ve changed a few things,” he said evasively. “You know I can’t tell you more, Liam. I shouldn’t have told you a thing to begin with.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Liam promised conspiratorially. “Not even Auntie Siobhan or Unca Patrick. It would only frighten them.”
“Does it frighten you?” Calvin asked. Liam was such a precocious child, it was sometimes downright unsettling.
“A little,” the boy admitted. “But I think Unca Jack will come back okay. He always comes back okay, right?”
“Let’s hope so,” Calvin said. “Well, little bit, should we try to get some sleep? I’m very tired, and I’ll have to go to work early in the morning.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
After barely six hours of unruly sleep - interrupted twice by Liam’s nightmares - Calvin felt like death warmed over when he got out of bed in the morning. They had sweated a lot during the night, all three of them, and were quite sticky as a result. He was glad that at least neither of the boys had lost control over his bladder - which sometimes still happened, even after all the progress they’d already made. They were traumatized kids, after all.
He stood under the shower twice as long as usual, trying to wash away his fear and exhaustion. He really didn’t want to go back to the SGC, because frankly, what was the point? But he couldn’t leave Willem and the others alone. It had been generous of them to send him home in the first place.
To his surprise, Colonel Dixon dropped by during breakfast and offered him a lift back to the Mountain. Apparently, the colonel had chosen to see his family, too, before the whole planet went to hell. But again, Colonel Dixon was Air Force, not a Marine, and therefore a lot less fatalistic.
“Do you have any news about the progress?” Calvin asked.
Dixon shook his had. “Not since I left for home. You know, ‘radio silence’. Not even we are allowed to call in. Do you think it’s gonna work?”
“I don’t know,” Calvin admitted. “I have a really bad feeling about this.”
“Yeah, you and me, too,” Dixon paused for a moment, driving a few miles in silence. “You know, Doc, it surprises me that you haven’t hauled your family onto a plane and sent them back to California… or somewhere even further away,” he then added.
“I was tempted,” Calvin said. “But the sad truth is, Colonel, it wouldn’t do any good. If the Gate explodes, Earth is history in any case. And a quick death is perhaps preferable to a long, agonizing suffocation. On a starving planet with not enough air, food and clean water, what would their chances be?”
“There is some truth in that,” Dixon agreed reluctantly. “I still wish I could get Glenda and the kids somewhere safe.”
“There aren’t any safe places on Earth,” Calvin sighed. “It’s frightening how small a planet could seem in the light of a disaster of this magnitude, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Dixon said, and they remained silent for the rest of their way. There wasn’t really anything else to say.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Calvin’s arrival to the lab, although he wasn’t aware of that fact at the moment, signalized the beginning of the end. All his fellow scientists were present, watching on a split screen the events in Area 51 and in the Control Room, where Carter and McKay were looking after things.
Unfortunately, things were not looking good.
As far as Calvin could figure out from the frantic discussions going on simultaneously all around him, Colonel O’Neill had already managed to separate the X-302 - including the Stargate that was fastened to its belly - from the 747 carrier and reached altitude at then thousand metres. The problems started when he proceeded to an altitude of thirty kilometres, with a velocity of Mach 6, and engaged the aerospace engines. The craft began to shake badly; according to O’Neill, it felt as if it was falling apart.
“You’re still too shallow to fire the rocket boosters,” someone from Are 51 warned him.
“Switching to Area 51 surveillance cameras,” Chief Master Sergeant Harriman said in the SGC Control Room.
One of the screens now showed the X-302, with the Stargate under its belly, shooting upwards at a high rate of speed.
“Sounds promising,” Petersen commented, with tentative hope in his voice.
But Simpson, her eyes firmly on the readings, shook her head.
“Altitude is forty-two kilometres,” she said. “He needs to reach fifty before he can fire the main rocket engine, or the whole thing won’t work.”
The others exchanged worried looks.
“I’m not sure he can,” Chloe murmured. “No matter how many parts have been removed to make the X-302 lighter, the Gate is still too heavy. You can’t change the laws of physics, just because they are inconvenient.”
O’Neill’s voice cut into hers through the radio, as if confirming her concerns. “Command, I’ve got a master concern alarm here…. I’m losing power.”
“Your altitude is only forty-eight kilometres, Starflight,” someone, perhaps Dr. Murphy, replied. “You must get to fifty…”
“You’re not listening - I cannot!” O’Neill retorted tersely. “I’ve got full port engine failure, Starboard at 6-0 per cent. Preparing to ignite rocket booster.”
“You’re still too low, Starflight!” Murphy protested.
“I’m losing velocity, Command,” O’Neill snapped. “I’m gonna start losing altitude, too, so please advise.”
There was a moment of silence, while everyone was thinking frantically to find a solution - but they couldn’t. Sometimes they’d just run out of miracles. Finally, Murphy sighed.
“Okay, Starflight,” he said. “Go with main engine burn.”
They could see on the surveillance monitor as the rocket booster went off and the X-302 sped up considerably. But it was too soon, and they all were aware of the likely consequences.
“Velocity is twenty-five thousand kilometres per hour,” Harriman reported from the Control Room. “Twenty-eight thousand…”
“He’s gotta reach forty thousand,” Calvin murmured, making quick calculations in his head.
“Yeah, and sustain it for at least fifteen seconds now, too,” Petersen added in concern. “Is his fuel gonna last?”
Calvin shook his head. “No. He fired main engines too early for that.”
“He had no other choice!” Simpson said defensively.
“I know,” Calvin replied with a tired sigh. “I’m not blaming him for anything. But facts are facts. He started with a tightly calculated amount of fuel… it’s not gonna multiply on the way.”
“Main engine burn at 1-0-0 per cent,” O’Neil reported in. “Velocity approaching forty thousand kilometres per hour. Altitude at 1-2-0 kilometres.”
In the background, they could hear Carter counting down the remaining seconds. “Seven… six… five…”
“Prepare to release the Gate, Command,” came O’Neill’s tense voice through the radio.
“It’s too early,” Simpson murmured. “Altitude is still only a hundred and thirty kilometres. He’s not gonna make it.”
“Velocity is slowing rapidly,” Chloe added. “He had to fire the rocket booster too early.”
“Anyone want to wish me luck?” O’Neill asked sarcastically.
“We’re working on the problem, Colonel,” Dr. Murphy replied from the Area 51 lab.
“Does this mean it didn’t work?” General Hammond asked.
“No, sir,” Carter replied flatly. “He’s going to fall back to Earth.”
“Based on altitude, angle of ascent and current velocity, he’s gonna hit the coast of Europe in thirty-five minutes,” Calvin added. A conference link had been established between the individual locations, so that all thoughts and ideas could be shared… assumed that anyone had them, which was not the case at the moment…
… save from McKay, of course, whose over-active mind worked best under pressure.
“If we put the X-302 in a nosedive, he could cut his decent time in half,” he said pensively.
“Why would we want to do that?” Jonas asked in mild shock.
“So he could drop the Gate in the Atlantic,” Petersen replied in McKay’s stead, getting the idea. “I think there’s time for it to sink maybe…”
“… two to three thousand feet,” Calvin supported.
“Will that do us any good?” General Hammond asked doubtfully.
“Enough to reduce the effects of the devastation,” McKay said.
“By how much?” Hammond asked.
“Not much, sir,” Carter said.
“Enough that’s worth a shot,” Calvin interrupted angrily. “Or should we just lean back and give up? Any lives that can be saved are worth a try.”
“But that would mean the certain death of Colonel O’Neill,” Simpson pointed out.
“So what?” Calvin snapped rudely. “He’ll be dead within the hour anyway - we all will. At least that way his death won’t be utterly useless.”
Simpson looked ready to throttle him, but General Hammond’s voice stopped her mid-launch.
“Doctor Kavanagh is right,” the general said with a heavy sigh. “We have to do something.”
“Yes, but not anything!” Simpson countered. “Major Carter, correct me if I’m wrong, but the hyperspace window did actually form, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” Carter said. “It was just unstable.”
“But it did work,” Simpson pointed out. “We just couldn’t estimate the direction it would take the 302.”
“So what?” McKay asked impatiently. “It still won’t work.”
“It would,” Carter corrected. “Only that it would most likely be a one-way trip.”
“And not for the colonel alone,” Dr. Murphy interjected. “We don’t know what would happen if we tried to open a hyperspace window within the atmosphere….”
“… but we do know what would happen if a highly charged Stargate exploded within said atmosphere, don’t we?” Petersen retorted.
“We could calculate the chances,” Chloe offered, typing on her keyboard furiously.
The others in the lab went to work, too, trying to ignore McKay’s fuming about the risks of putting an interdimensional field around an already highly charged Stargate with an unstable and completely unpredictable burst of energy and how sinking the Gate in the ocean would have real tangible benefits. Carter, also making quick calculations, retorted that this way they might save the entire planet, instead of just a few lives… for which McKay apparently couldn’t see any real chances.
“Maybe we can reduce the risk a little,” Jonas Quinn said unexpectedly.
“How?” Carter and McKay demanded in unison.
Jonas shrugged. “Well, the instability of the naquadria is…”
“… is relative to the size of the burst you’re trying to extract, yes, we all know that,” Petersen interrupted.
“Yes, but you don’t have to…” Jonas tried to continue, but McKay was faster.
“… we don’t actually have to send the Gate across the galaxy,” he finished the sentence.
“Even a second in hyperspace gets us millions of miles!” Simpson supplied.
“Potentially,” Calvin added with emphasis. “We’ll need to override the safety protocol that makes the X-302 avoid an unstable wormhole.”
“Can we do that?” Petersen asked doubtfully.
Calvin nodded. “Theoretically, yes. We can increase the chance by only activating the generator for one second.”
“But the generator isn’t programmed to work for such a short period of time!” Dr. Murphy protested.
“Hang on,” McKay replied distractedly, his voice underlined with the noise of furious typing. “I’m working on it…”
“Working on what?” Dr. Murphy nearly howled with frustration.
“A new subroutine,” Carter replied. “It will only take a few minutes…
“Take your time,” O’Neill’s sarcastic voice came through the external radio link. “In the meantime, I’ll just… keep falling.”
Carter and McKay worked at record speed, and unbelievable but true, they actually managed to upload the new subroutine some twenty seconds before the Gate would go critical. Now everything was in O’Neill’s hand - and they didn’t even have any visuals, which made everyone hold their breaths. Finally, when the digital clock of the computer showed thirteen seconds to critical, the radio came alive.
“This is Observer One,” said a male voice. “We have visual confirmation: the X-302 has entered the hyperspace window.”
“Is that one of the F-16 pilots?” Calvin asked Simpson who tended to know such things. Simpson nodded, the freckles practically burning in her pale face.
“What about Colonel O’Neill?” Carter asked. “Has he managed to eject the cockpit?”
“This is Observer One,” the unknown pilot answered. “There’s no sign of a chute… although we have quite the light show over our heads.”
Calvin looked at the digital clock. Their time had just run out. On the other hand, they were still there, which could only mean one thing…
“Has the Gate exploded?” he asked.
“Over three million miles from Earth, according to the estimation of deep space telemetry,” Harriman replied. “He’s done it… he’s really done it.”
“Yeah, he’s done it,” Carter said, her voice proud and worried at the same time. “But has he made it as well?”
For a moment there was tense silence - then another pilot reported in. “This is Observer Two. I have a visual on a chute… moving in for confirmation….” There was another period of silence, then the second pilot’s voice came again, relief tangible in his tone. “Mission Command, the cockpit is intact! We’re pinpointing splashdown position.”
“Sergeant, patch in satellite imagery,” Hammond ordered.
“Patching in satellite imagery, yes, sir,” Harriman replied crisply, and a moment later they could all see the parachute on their screens. In the background Dr. Murphy’s voice could be heard.
“Observer Two, pararescue team is on the way,” he said.
“Roger that,” the pilot replied and broke the connection.
In the lab, Calvin slumped onto his chair, trying to believe that not only had they avoided total annihilation at a hair’s breadth - again! - but he wouldn’t have to tell Liam that his beloved ‘Unca Jack’ had died in some mysterious accident he would never be allowed to explain.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It still took hours to save all the data and to clean out the labs… including the plastic coffee cups that had served as champagne flutes on the impromptu survival feast initiated by the head scientists. All SGC members were sent home for an extended leave, as no one could tell how long it was going to be before the Stargate Program could be re-established… if ever. They didn’t have a Stargate anymore, after all.
For his part, Calvin wasn’t particularly worried about his professional future. Dr. Bill Lee had assured him that their project would be continued regardless of the Stargate Program’s current hold. Newer, better, faster aeroplanes were always needed. It might be that Calvin would have to spend days in Area 51 from time to time, but basically, his job would remain the same.
Without the potential trips through the Stargate, that is, but so far he hadn’t been needed for such trips and could well imagine his future life without them, too.
When he finally got home, they did make the belated visit to the zoo, and both boys seemed to have the time of their lives. Liam participated in half a dozen projects offered for children - even though most other participants were three to five years older than him - and Tommy was absolutely fascinated by the “Streichelzoo”, where he was allowed to pet the tame animals as much as he wanted.
“Perhaps we should get him a pet,” Siobhan said thoughtfully. “A puppy or a kitten… now that we have enough room both in house and garden.”
“He’s allergic to cats,” Calvin reminded her, “and Liam is afraid of dogs. Remember what happened when we visited Dr. Fraiser?”
“Yes, but Cassandra’s dog is a fully grown German Shepherd, and one that doesn’t particularly like strangers,” Siobhan pointed out. “I really think that Liam could overcome his fear if we tried to get a young puppy from a much smaller race. Perhaps you could take him with you to the pet shop and let him choose. I’m sure Tommy won’t mind, as long as it is a dog.”
“Perhaps,” Calvin allowed. “I’ll discuss it with Liam first, though. I don’t want him to believe that we favour Tommy, just because of his condition.
At first Liam was less than enthusiastic about the idea of sharing his living space with a dog - any dog - but when Patrick promised him to build out part of the loft and make there a room for his use only, so that he wouldn’t actually have to live in the same room with his brother’s future pet, he finally gave in. Having his own little realm was just too tempting to resist.
And so on the fourth day of Calvin’s unexpected leave, he and Liam went to the pet shop and returned with a small puppy of indefinable origins. The little dog had long ears, hanging nearly to the ground, enormous paws that seemed to belong to a much larger animal, and wavy golden brown fur. It was already housebroken, and its round, button-like eyes were twinkling merrily. Tommy was deliriously happy with it, so happy that he kept talking to the puppy in his own language that continued very interested noises but few recognizable words.
The family gathering gave the puppy the name Bester, honouring another, long-gone pet that Patrick used to have as a boy. Siobhan and Calvin bowed to his expertise concerning proper pet names as neither of them had been allowed to keep pets as children. The only animal in the Reverend’s house had been a huge watchdog that all children had been deadly afraid of. Perhaps Liam’s fear of dogs was really a consequence of his father’s reactions, Calvin mused, seeing his younger son playing with the puppy. Perhaps in time he’d learn to like Bester, too.
In any case, for the time being both boys were happy; Liam with his room in the loft - he was currently helping Patrick to paint the walls and having more fun than he’d ever showed during any physical activities - and Tommy with his young dog. That was enough for Calvin. If his boys were happy, he was happy, too. Everything else they would solve in time.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A few days later Jonas Quinn paid the Kavanagh clan a visit. That wasn’t such an unusual thing itself, as he often dropped in unannounced - they had become casual friends during the recent months. Unusual was the huge grin practically splitting his face, though.
“Let me guess,” Calvin said dryly, handing him a beer and a bowl of pasta leftover from lunch. “You’ve got great news.”
“The best ones,” Jonas said happily. “First of all, the Stargate Program has been re-established, effective immediately. You can count on a call from the SGC any time now.”
“Doesn’t one need a Stargate for that?” Calvin asked sarcastically; then he paused as the pieces clicked into place. “Does it mean the SGC managed to get their hands on the Russian Gate?”
Jonas nodded. “Exactly. It’s being fixed right now, but Sergeant Siler said that normal operations can be expected to start as soon as next Monday.”
“Well, that’s great, of course,” for a moment, Calvin didn’t really know whether to look forward to eventually going through that Gate to some other planet or dread the very moment it might happen; then another thought occurred to him. “So, what did the Russians demand for it? Do we have to give them back Alaska?”
“Nah,” Jonas laughed. “According to Major Carter, they wanted money.”
“Who doesn’t?” Calvin shrugged philosophically. Somehow it sounded logical. He’d been told repeatedly that the Russian government wasn’t willing to finance a Stargate program of their own, which was the reason why the Russians had their own team at the SGC. From there, it was the next logical step to try and get money for the use of their Gate… especially as the SGC didn’t have one any longer.
“And the plans for the X-302 and the X-303,” Jonas added.
“Whatever they might be, they’re not idiots,” Calvin commented. “Those crafts will be of a lot more use for them, at least on short-term, than a Stargate that only swallows lots of money.”
“Oh, they didn’t give up on the Stargate entirely,” Jonas said. “In fact, they demanded to let one of their officers join SG-1.”
Calvin winced. “Ouch. That went well with Colonel O’Neill, I guess. His undying love for the Russians and everything connected to them is legendary.”
Jonas laughed. “His exact reply was, and I quote: ‘This is the thanks I got for saving the world again?’”
“I can’t say I blame him,” Calvin said, “especially as General Hammond probably told him to shut up and suck up.”
“Well, he phrased it a bit more politely, but that about sums it up,” Jonas said, still grinning like a moron.
Calvin gave him a deeply suspicious look. “That still doesn’t explain why you are in such a good mood.”
“Oh yes, it does,” Jonas retorted. “You see, Colonel O’Neill really, really didn’t want to have a Russian in his unit, so he chose to put up with the lesser evil.”
“Which would be…” Calvin trailed off, already knowing what was about to come but not wanting to deny Jonas the satisfaction to spell it out himself.
“Me!” Jonas beamed. “As from today, I’m an officially assigned member of SG-1.”
Calvin slapped him on the back. “Congratulations. You should buy the Russian unit a round of drinks, though. If not for them, O’Neill would never have accepted you.”
“I know,” Jonas said, sobering quickly. “He probably still hates my guts for what’s happened to Dr. Jackson. I’ll have to live with that… and with the guilt that Daniel died because I was too much of a coward to risk my own life. I can’t change the past. But at least I’ve been given the opportunity to prove that I can make a difference.”
“You already have,” Calvin pointed out. “It was your idea that saved the whole planet.”
“Perhaps,” Jonas admitted. “But I want to prove my worth on the field, too.”
“What for?” Calvin asked. “You’re not a soldier, you’re a scientist… and a social scientist at that. Your true worth is in your brains, not in your biceps. Not that you wouldn’t be fitter than any geek I’ve ever met,” he added with a grin, because Jonas really was in a great shape. All that exercise while he hadn’t had anything useful to do paid off.
“That was the case with Dr. Jackson, too,” Jonas said. “I know I can’t truly fill his shoes, not yet, perhaps never, but I hope one day I’ll have grown enough to become a worthy ersatz.”
“They’ll never look at you the same way,” Calvin warned. “Jackson wasn’t only their scientist, he was their friend. You’re competing against five years of history… six, in O’Neill’s case… and against a legend that has become an integral part of the whole program. It won’t be easy.”
“I know,” Jonas said. “But I chose the easy way all my life, save the one time when I stood up for the truth. That was hard - but I can’t go back to my old ways. Not anymore.”
Calvin shrugged. “It’s your funeral,” he said. “I’m happy for you, though - at least you got what you’ve been pining for ever since you came to Earth. Now, if you’re quite finished eating, do you want to see Liam’s new room first or Tommy’s new dog?”
Jonas opted for Liam’s room and spent the rest of the evening with the older boy, teaching Liam how to read Egyptian hieroglyphs. Calvin retuned to his study in the cellar, opening encoded files with his latest research data, refreshing his memories about the stand of each project.
They had a Stargate again. That meant returning to the Mountain and picking up the work left behind. It could also mean a trip to another planet in the near future.
Whichever the case might be, he wanted to be prepared.
~The End - for now~
Continued in Episode #2 - Descent
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Stargate - Atlantis
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the secondary index page.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
EPISODE 01 - REDEMPTION, Part 3
Author’s note:
Originally, I intended to finish the first part in two chapters, but they grew to long, and I didn't want to speed up the pace. So I added one more chapter. Some of the dialogue (= the technobabbly) has been lifted from the actual episode, as before.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The family was relieved to see him, after three days without as much as a phone call. Siobhan and Patrick had learned already not to ask questions about his job, but there was no way to stop a curious seven-year-old, so Calvin told Liam a story that was as close to the truth as safely possible.
“We are working on making better aeroplanes,” he explained, “but the test flight wasn’t successful. The others called me in because I know the most about he fuel the new plane uses.”
“Has Colonel Jack flowed the plane?” Liam asked in concern.
“Flown,” Calvin corrected. “Yes, of course he has. He’s the best pilot we have.”
“Did he get hurt?” Liam continued his inquiry, in obvious worry for his friend.
Calvin smiled. “No. Flight control had him land the plane before things could turn really bad.”
Liam sighed in relief. “That is good. Will you have to go back, Papa?”
“Afraid so,” Calvin replied. “We still haven’t figured out what went wrong with the plane, and they need me.”
“Then we won’t be going to the zoo any time, soon?” Liam asked, a little disappointed.
“Not right away, no,” Calvin admitted, feeling slightly guilty, which was absurd, considering the fact that the whole planet was on the brink of destruction. “But I’ll make up for your lost birthday trip, I promise. The first chance I get another day off, we’ll do it, all right?”
“I know you will,” Liam climbed onto his lap and clung to him for dear life. “Papa…”
“What is it, little bit?” he asked, because the child’s tone revealed already what was about to come.
“Can I sleep in your bed today?” the boy whispered, as expected.
Calvin suppressed a sigh. The first time, after he’d got Liam back from his ex, the boy had adamantly refused to sleep anywhere else but in his father’s bed. The therapist had spoken of separation anxiety; that the kid feared his mother might take him away by force again. Calvin had hoped that they’d outgrown that particular phase, but apparently, his unexpected absence reawakened the boy’s fears. Liam dealt well enough with him being away for days… as long as they could talk at least on the phone and he could reassure himself that his father would, indeed, come home, sooner or later. The last three days’ ‘radio silence’ must have frightened him badly.
“Of course you can, little bit,” Calvin smiled at his son, mentally saying good-bye to any hope for a restful sleep. When scared, Liam still woke up weeping every couple of hours or so. “Should we take Tommy with us, too?”
Liam nodded mutely. Surprisingly enough, the presence of his baby brother seemed to make him feel safe. They had supper together, discussing what the boys wanted to see in the zoo - not that Tommy would have contributed anything coherent to the conversation. Affected by the Fragile-X syndrome, the kid’s vocabulary was limited to strange nicknames of things that the rest of the family had learned to recognize. Still, he was a sweet, affectionate child, in his innocence much more stable than his highly intelligent older brother.
After supper, Calvin took both kids to bed with him, and performed the usual ritual of reading them a bedtime story. They both loved those stories, although they didn’t really challenge Liam’s intellect, while Tommy most likely didn’t get much of them. But it was family time, belonging strictly to them, and they demanded it, whenever their father could get home in time.
Tommy was the first to fall asleep, halfway into the tale, sucking on his thumb, as usual when he was upset. Calvin wasn’t surprised. Tommy had always been very sensitive, attuned to his father’s moods, and no matter how much he tried to keep up a calm appearance, he couldn’t quite shake off the nagging knowledge that the world might end in a couple of hours.
Liam, on the other hand, looked like someone who could stay up all night. Perhaps he, too, was feeling his father’s inner unrest. Plus, being a junior braniac, the not knowing part got to him much stronger than it would to any other kid.
“Papa,” he asked quietly, “something is wrong, isn’t it?”
“Liam, you know I must not speak about it,” Calvin replied. But this time, the kid ignored him.
“Is it really bad?” he asked.
Calvin saw no reason to lie to him. If they died in the next day, it wouldn’t matter. Besides, he didn’t intend to tell the kid any facts.
“It can be,” he admitted. “We might get lucky yet, though. It’s up to your Uncle Jack.”
“Oh,” Liam actually seemed relieved. “That’s good. He always wins, doesn’t he?”
“Most of the time,” Calvin replied, firmly pushing away from himself the memory of all those secret missions in which the colonel hadn’t won. At least the man had always come back alive. “Let’s hope he’ll get lucky one more time, shall we?”
“Is he doing something very dangerous?” Liam inquired. “Like Colonel Danning in Wormhole X-Treme?”
Calvin always found it ironic that his kid would be such a big fan of a cheesy TV-series that was vaguely based on his own work… well, sort of.
“He won’t be fighting aliens,” he said, suppressing the urge to add this time, “but yeah, it can be dangerous.”
“Will he try to fly the new aeroplane again?” Liam asked.
“Yes,” Calvin said, because it was close enough to the truth, and once Liam was on the roll, he couldn’t be stopped anyway.
“Have you fixed what was wrong with it?” Liam continued. Calvin sighed. Now he had to lie something convincingly to shut the kid up. If he could.
“We’ve changed a few things,” he said evasively. “You know I can’t tell you more, Liam. I shouldn’t have told you a thing to begin with.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Liam promised conspiratorially. “Not even Auntie Siobhan or Unca Patrick. It would only frighten them.”
“Does it frighten you?” Calvin asked. Liam was such a precocious child, it was sometimes downright unsettling.
“A little,” the boy admitted. “But I think Unca Jack will come back okay. He always comes back okay, right?”
“Let’s hope so,” Calvin said. “Well, little bit, should we try to get some sleep? I’m very tired, and I’ll have to go to work early in the morning.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
After barely six hours of unruly sleep - interrupted twice by Liam’s nightmares - Calvin felt like death warmed over when he got out of bed in the morning. They had sweated a lot during the night, all three of them, and were quite sticky as a result. He was glad that at least neither of the boys had lost control over his bladder - which sometimes still happened, even after all the progress they’d already made. They were traumatized kids, after all.
He stood under the shower twice as long as usual, trying to wash away his fear and exhaustion. He really didn’t want to go back to the SGC, because frankly, what was the point? But he couldn’t leave Willem and the others alone. It had been generous of them to send him home in the first place.
To his surprise, Colonel Dixon dropped by during breakfast and offered him a lift back to the Mountain. Apparently, the colonel had chosen to see his family, too, before the whole planet went to hell. But again, Colonel Dixon was Air Force, not a Marine, and therefore a lot less fatalistic.
“Do you have any news about the progress?” Calvin asked.
Dixon shook his had. “Not since I left for home. You know, ‘radio silence’. Not even we are allowed to call in. Do you think it’s gonna work?”
“I don’t know,” Calvin admitted. “I have a really bad feeling about this.”
“Yeah, you and me, too,” Dixon paused for a moment, driving a few miles in silence. “You know, Doc, it surprises me that you haven’t hauled your family onto a plane and sent them back to California… or somewhere even further away,” he then added.
“I was tempted,” Calvin said. “But the sad truth is, Colonel, it wouldn’t do any good. If the Gate explodes, Earth is history in any case. And a quick death is perhaps preferable to a long, agonizing suffocation. On a starving planet with not enough air, food and clean water, what would their chances be?”
“There is some truth in that,” Dixon agreed reluctantly. “I still wish I could get Glenda and the kids somewhere safe.”
“There aren’t any safe places on Earth,” Calvin sighed. “It’s frightening how small a planet could seem in the light of a disaster of this magnitude, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Dixon said, and they remained silent for the rest of their way. There wasn’t really anything else to say.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Calvin’s arrival to the lab, although he wasn’t aware of that fact at the moment, signalized the beginning of the end. All his fellow scientists were present, watching on a split screen the events in Area 51 and in the Control Room, where Carter and McKay were looking after things.
Unfortunately, things were not looking good.
As far as Calvin could figure out from the frantic discussions going on simultaneously all around him, Colonel O’Neill had already managed to separate the X-302 - including the Stargate that was fastened to its belly - from the 747 carrier and reached altitude at then thousand metres. The problems started when he proceeded to an altitude of thirty kilometres, with a velocity of Mach 6, and engaged the aerospace engines. The craft began to shake badly; according to O’Neill, it felt as if it was falling apart.
“You’re still too shallow to fire the rocket boosters,” someone from Are 51 warned him.
“Switching to Area 51 surveillance cameras,” Chief Master Sergeant Harriman said in the SGC Control Room.
One of the screens now showed the X-302, with the Stargate under its belly, shooting upwards at a high rate of speed.
“Sounds promising,” Petersen commented, with tentative hope in his voice.
But Simpson, her eyes firmly on the readings, shook her head.
“Altitude is forty-two kilometres,” she said. “He needs to reach fifty before he can fire the main rocket engine, or the whole thing won’t work.”
The others exchanged worried looks.
“I’m not sure he can,” Chloe murmured. “No matter how many parts have been removed to make the X-302 lighter, the Gate is still too heavy. You can’t change the laws of physics, just because they are inconvenient.”
O’Neill’s voice cut into hers through the radio, as if confirming her concerns. “Command, I’ve got a master concern alarm here…. I’m losing power.”
“Your altitude is only forty-eight kilometres, Starflight,” someone, perhaps Dr. Murphy, replied. “You must get to fifty…”
“You’re not listening - I cannot!” O’Neill retorted tersely. “I’ve got full port engine failure, Starboard at 6-0 per cent. Preparing to ignite rocket booster.”
“You’re still too low, Starflight!” Murphy protested.
“I’m losing velocity, Command,” O’Neill snapped. “I’m gonna start losing altitude, too, so please advise.”
There was a moment of silence, while everyone was thinking frantically to find a solution - but they couldn’t. Sometimes they’d just run out of miracles. Finally, Murphy sighed.
“Okay, Starflight,” he said. “Go with main engine burn.”
They could see on the surveillance monitor as the rocket booster went off and the X-302 sped up considerably. But it was too soon, and they all were aware of the likely consequences.
“Velocity is twenty-five thousand kilometres per hour,” Harriman reported from the Control Room. “Twenty-eight thousand…”
“He’s gotta reach forty thousand,” Calvin murmured, making quick calculations in his head.
“Yeah, and sustain it for at least fifteen seconds now, too,” Petersen added in concern. “Is his fuel gonna last?”
Calvin shook his head. “No. He fired main engines too early for that.”
“He had no other choice!” Simpson said defensively.
“I know,” Calvin replied with a tired sigh. “I’m not blaming him for anything. But facts are facts. He started with a tightly calculated amount of fuel… it’s not gonna multiply on the way.”
“Main engine burn at 1-0-0 per cent,” O’Neil reported in. “Velocity approaching forty thousand kilometres per hour. Altitude at 1-2-0 kilometres.”
In the background, they could hear Carter counting down the remaining seconds. “Seven… six… five…”
“Prepare to release the Gate, Command,” came O’Neill’s tense voice through the radio.
“It’s too early,” Simpson murmured. “Altitude is still only a hundred and thirty kilometres. He’s not gonna make it.”
“Velocity is slowing rapidly,” Chloe added. “He had to fire the rocket booster too early.”
“Anyone want to wish me luck?” O’Neill asked sarcastically.
“We’re working on the problem, Colonel,” Dr. Murphy replied from the Area 51 lab.
“Does this mean it didn’t work?” General Hammond asked.
“No, sir,” Carter replied flatly. “He’s going to fall back to Earth.”
“Based on altitude, angle of ascent and current velocity, he’s gonna hit the coast of Europe in thirty-five minutes,” Calvin added. A conference link had been established between the individual locations, so that all thoughts and ideas could be shared… assumed that anyone had them, which was not the case at the moment…
… save from McKay, of course, whose over-active mind worked best under pressure.
“If we put the X-302 in a nosedive, he could cut his decent time in half,” he said pensively.
“Why would we want to do that?” Jonas asked in mild shock.
“So he could drop the Gate in the Atlantic,” Petersen replied in McKay’s stead, getting the idea. “I think there’s time for it to sink maybe…”
“… two to three thousand feet,” Calvin supported.
“Will that do us any good?” General Hammond asked doubtfully.
“Enough to reduce the effects of the devastation,” McKay said.
“By how much?” Hammond asked.
“Not much, sir,” Carter said.
“Enough that’s worth a shot,” Calvin interrupted angrily. “Or should we just lean back and give up? Any lives that can be saved are worth a try.”
“But that would mean the certain death of Colonel O’Neill,” Simpson pointed out.
“So what?” Calvin snapped rudely. “He’ll be dead within the hour anyway - we all will. At least that way his death won’t be utterly useless.”
Simpson looked ready to throttle him, but General Hammond’s voice stopped her mid-launch.
“Doctor Kavanagh is right,” the general said with a heavy sigh. “We have to do something.”
“Yes, but not anything!” Simpson countered. “Major Carter, correct me if I’m wrong, but the hyperspace window did actually form, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” Carter said. “It was just unstable.”
“But it did work,” Simpson pointed out. “We just couldn’t estimate the direction it would take the 302.”
“So what?” McKay asked impatiently. “It still won’t work.”
“It would,” Carter corrected. “Only that it would most likely be a one-way trip.”
“And not for the colonel alone,” Dr. Murphy interjected. “We don’t know what would happen if we tried to open a hyperspace window within the atmosphere….”
“… but we do know what would happen if a highly charged Stargate exploded within said atmosphere, don’t we?” Petersen retorted.
“We could calculate the chances,” Chloe offered, typing on her keyboard furiously.
The others in the lab went to work, too, trying to ignore McKay’s fuming about the risks of putting an interdimensional field around an already highly charged Stargate with an unstable and completely unpredictable burst of energy and how sinking the Gate in the ocean would have real tangible benefits. Carter, also making quick calculations, retorted that this way they might save the entire planet, instead of just a few lives… for which McKay apparently couldn’t see any real chances.
“Maybe we can reduce the risk a little,” Jonas Quinn said unexpectedly.
“How?” Carter and McKay demanded in unison.
Jonas shrugged. “Well, the instability of the naquadria is…”
“… is relative to the size of the burst you’re trying to extract, yes, we all know that,” Petersen interrupted.
“Yes, but you don’t have to…” Jonas tried to continue, but McKay was faster.
“… we don’t actually have to send the Gate across the galaxy,” he finished the sentence.
“Even a second in hyperspace gets us millions of miles!” Simpson supplied.
“Potentially,” Calvin added with emphasis. “We’ll need to override the safety protocol that makes the X-302 avoid an unstable wormhole.”
“Can we do that?” Petersen asked doubtfully.
Calvin nodded. “Theoretically, yes. We can increase the chance by only activating the generator for one second.”
“But the generator isn’t programmed to work for such a short period of time!” Dr. Murphy protested.
“Hang on,” McKay replied distractedly, his voice underlined with the noise of furious typing. “I’m working on it…”
“Working on what?” Dr. Murphy nearly howled with frustration.
“A new subroutine,” Carter replied. “It will only take a few minutes…
“Take your time,” O’Neill’s sarcastic voice came through the external radio link. “In the meantime, I’ll just… keep falling.”
Carter and McKay worked at record speed, and unbelievable but true, they actually managed to upload the new subroutine some twenty seconds before the Gate would go critical. Now everything was in O’Neill’s hand - and they didn’t even have any visuals, which made everyone hold their breaths. Finally, when the digital clock of the computer showed thirteen seconds to critical, the radio came alive.
“This is Observer One,” said a male voice. “We have visual confirmation: the X-302 has entered the hyperspace window.”
“Is that one of the F-16 pilots?” Calvin asked Simpson who tended to know such things. Simpson nodded, the freckles practically burning in her pale face.
“What about Colonel O’Neill?” Carter asked. “Has he managed to eject the cockpit?”
“This is Observer One,” the unknown pilot answered. “There’s no sign of a chute… although we have quite the light show over our heads.”
Calvin looked at the digital clock. Their time had just run out. On the other hand, they were still there, which could only mean one thing…
“Has the Gate exploded?” he asked.
“Over three million miles from Earth, according to the estimation of deep space telemetry,” Harriman replied. “He’s done it… he’s really done it.”
“Yeah, he’s done it,” Carter said, her voice proud and worried at the same time. “But has he made it as well?”
For a moment there was tense silence - then another pilot reported in. “This is Observer Two. I have a visual on a chute… moving in for confirmation….” There was another period of silence, then the second pilot’s voice came again, relief tangible in his tone. “Mission Command, the cockpit is intact! We’re pinpointing splashdown position.”
“Sergeant, patch in satellite imagery,” Hammond ordered.
“Patching in satellite imagery, yes, sir,” Harriman replied crisply, and a moment later they could all see the parachute on their screens. In the background Dr. Murphy’s voice could be heard.
“Observer Two, pararescue team is on the way,” he said.
“Roger that,” the pilot replied and broke the connection.
In the lab, Calvin slumped onto his chair, trying to believe that not only had they avoided total annihilation at a hair’s breadth - again! - but he wouldn’t have to tell Liam that his beloved ‘Unca Jack’ had died in some mysterious accident he would never be allowed to explain.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It still took hours to save all the data and to clean out the labs… including the plastic coffee cups that had served as champagne flutes on the impromptu survival feast initiated by the head scientists. All SGC members were sent home for an extended leave, as no one could tell how long it was going to be before the Stargate Program could be re-established… if ever. They didn’t have a Stargate anymore, after all.
For his part, Calvin wasn’t particularly worried about his professional future. Dr. Bill Lee had assured him that their project would be continued regardless of the Stargate Program’s current hold. Newer, better, faster aeroplanes were always needed. It might be that Calvin would have to spend days in Area 51 from time to time, but basically, his job would remain the same.
Without the potential trips through the Stargate, that is, but so far he hadn’t been needed for such trips and could well imagine his future life without them, too.
When he finally got home, they did make the belated visit to the zoo, and both boys seemed to have the time of their lives. Liam participated in half a dozen projects offered for children - even though most other participants were three to five years older than him - and Tommy was absolutely fascinated by the “Streichelzoo”, where he was allowed to pet the tame animals as much as he wanted.
“Perhaps we should get him a pet,” Siobhan said thoughtfully. “A puppy or a kitten… now that we have enough room both in house and garden.”
“He’s allergic to cats,” Calvin reminded her, “and Liam is afraid of dogs. Remember what happened when we visited Dr. Fraiser?”
“Yes, but Cassandra’s dog is a fully grown German Shepherd, and one that doesn’t particularly like strangers,” Siobhan pointed out. “I really think that Liam could overcome his fear if we tried to get a young puppy from a much smaller race. Perhaps you could take him with you to the pet shop and let him choose. I’m sure Tommy won’t mind, as long as it is a dog.”
“Perhaps,” Calvin allowed. “I’ll discuss it with Liam first, though. I don’t want him to believe that we favour Tommy, just because of his condition.
At first Liam was less than enthusiastic about the idea of sharing his living space with a dog - any dog - but when Patrick promised him to build out part of the loft and make there a room for his use only, so that he wouldn’t actually have to live in the same room with his brother’s future pet, he finally gave in. Having his own little realm was just too tempting to resist.
And so on the fourth day of Calvin’s unexpected leave, he and Liam went to the pet shop and returned with a small puppy of indefinable origins. The little dog had long ears, hanging nearly to the ground, enormous paws that seemed to belong to a much larger animal, and wavy golden brown fur. It was already housebroken, and its round, button-like eyes were twinkling merrily. Tommy was deliriously happy with it, so happy that he kept talking to the puppy in his own language that continued very interested noises but few recognizable words.
The family gathering gave the puppy the name Bester, honouring another, long-gone pet that Patrick used to have as a boy. Siobhan and Calvin bowed to his expertise concerning proper pet names as neither of them had been allowed to keep pets as children. The only animal in the Reverend’s house had been a huge watchdog that all children had been deadly afraid of. Perhaps Liam’s fear of dogs was really a consequence of his father’s reactions, Calvin mused, seeing his younger son playing with the puppy. Perhaps in time he’d learn to like Bester, too.
In any case, for the time being both boys were happy; Liam with his room in the loft - he was currently helping Patrick to paint the walls and having more fun than he’d ever showed during any physical activities - and Tommy with his young dog. That was enough for Calvin. If his boys were happy, he was happy, too. Everything else they would solve in time.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A few days later Jonas Quinn paid the Kavanagh clan a visit. That wasn’t such an unusual thing itself, as he often dropped in unannounced - they had become casual friends during the recent months. Unusual was the huge grin practically splitting his face, though.
“Let me guess,” Calvin said dryly, handing him a beer and a bowl of pasta leftover from lunch. “You’ve got great news.”
“The best ones,” Jonas said happily. “First of all, the Stargate Program has been re-established, effective immediately. You can count on a call from the SGC any time now.”
“Doesn’t one need a Stargate for that?” Calvin asked sarcastically; then he paused as the pieces clicked into place. “Does it mean the SGC managed to get their hands on the Russian Gate?”
Jonas nodded. “Exactly. It’s being fixed right now, but Sergeant Siler said that normal operations can be expected to start as soon as next Monday.”
“Well, that’s great, of course,” for a moment, Calvin didn’t really know whether to look forward to eventually going through that Gate to some other planet or dread the very moment it might happen; then another thought occurred to him. “So, what did the Russians demand for it? Do we have to give them back Alaska?”
“Nah,” Jonas laughed. “According to Major Carter, they wanted money.”
“Who doesn’t?” Calvin shrugged philosophically. Somehow it sounded logical. He’d been told repeatedly that the Russian government wasn’t willing to finance a Stargate program of their own, which was the reason why the Russians had their own team at the SGC. From there, it was the next logical step to try and get money for the use of their Gate… especially as the SGC didn’t have one any longer.
“And the plans for the X-302 and the X-303,” Jonas added.
“Whatever they might be, they’re not idiots,” Calvin commented. “Those crafts will be of a lot more use for them, at least on short-term, than a Stargate that only swallows lots of money.”
“Oh, they didn’t give up on the Stargate entirely,” Jonas said. “In fact, they demanded to let one of their officers join SG-1.”
Calvin winced. “Ouch. That went well with Colonel O’Neill, I guess. His undying love for the Russians and everything connected to them is legendary.”
Jonas laughed. “His exact reply was, and I quote: ‘This is the thanks I got for saving the world again?’”
“I can’t say I blame him,” Calvin said, “especially as General Hammond probably told him to shut up and suck up.”
“Well, he phrased it a bit more politely, but that about sums it up,” Jonas said, still grinning like a moron.
Calvin gave him a deeply suspicious look. “That still doesn’t explain why you are in such a good mood.”
“Oh yes, it does,” Jonas retorted. “You see, Colonel O’Neill really, really didn’t want to have a Russian in his unit, so he chose to put up with the lesser evil.”
“Which would be…” Calvin trailed off, already knowing what was about to come but not wanting to deny Jonas the satisfaction to spell it out himself.
“Me!” Jonas beamed. “As from today, I’m an officially assigned member of SG-1.”
Calvin slapped him on the back. “Congratulations. You should buy the Russian unit a round of drinks, though. If not for them, O’Neill would never have accepted you.”
“I know,” Jonas said, sobering quickly. “He probably still hates my guts for what’s happened to Dr. Jackson. I’ll have to live with that… and with the guilt that Daniel died because I was too much of a coward to risk my own life. I can’t change the past. But at least I’ve been given the opportunity to prove that I can make a difference.”
“You already have,” Calvin pointed out. “It was your idea that saved the whole planet.”
“Perhaps,” Jonas admitted. “But I want to prove my worth on the field, too.”
“What for?” Calvin asked. “You’re not a soldier, you’re a scientist… and a social scientist at that. Your true worth is in your brains, not in your biceps. Not that you wouldn’t be fitter than any geek I’ve ever met,” he added with a grin, because Jonas really was in a great shape. All that exercise while he hadn’t had anything useful to do paid off.
“That was the case with Dr. Jackson, too,” Jonas said. “I know I can’t truly fill his shoes, not yet, perhaps never, but I hope one day I’ll have grown enough to become a worthy ersatz.”
“They’ll never look at you the same way,” Calvin warned. “Jackson wasn’t only their scientist, he was their friend. You’re competing against five years of history… six, in O’Neill’s case… and against a legend that has become an integral part of the whole program. It won’t be easy.”
“I know,” Jonas said. “But I chose the easy way all my life, save the one time when I stood up for the truth. That was hard - but I can’t go back to my old ways. Not anymore.”
Calvin shrugged. “It’s your funeral,” he said. “I’m happy for you, though - at least you got what you’ve been pining for ever since you came to Earth. Now, if you’re quite finished eating, do you want to see Liam’s new room first or Tommy’s new dog?”
Jonas opted for Liam’s room and spent the rest of the evening with the older boy, teaching Liam how to read Egyptian hieroglyphs. Calvin retuned to his study in the cellar, opening encoded files with his latest research data, refreshing his memories about the stand of each project.
They had a Stargate again. That meant returning to the Mountain and picking up the work left behind. It could also mean a trip to another planet in the near future.
Whichever the case might be, he wanted to be prepared.
~The End - for now~
Continued in Episode #2 - Descent