“And that’s how the stories were lost,” Carter said quietly. “That’s how we forgot.” She opened her eyes and took Ai’s hand. “But it’s still there. It’s still waiting. And one day a guy named John Sheppard with the ATA gene will walk through the gate to Atlantis, and the city will come to life. Wherever he and Miko and the others with the ATA gene go, lights will come on and systems reboot and the whole city will breathe again.”
Ai looked at her and there were tears in her eyes. “Tell me about Atlantis,” she said.
Carter swallowed. There was no harm in that. It only fed the legend. “It’s very beautiful,” she began. “Even to me, and I’m only human.”
“You’re sure about this?” Cam looked Danyel in the eye.
“Positive.” Danyel nodded solemnly and offered Cam his hand. “Do me a favor and look after my team, OK?”
Cam shook it. “I’ll take good care of them. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
“I won’t,” Danyel said. “Tell Jack… Tell Jack I’ve got Abydos back.”
“I’ll tell him,” Cam said, and let go. “Y’all take care of yourselves.”
“We will,” Danyel promised clear-eyed, just as if there weren’t a whole world full of prehistoric dangers waiting for them.
O’Neill and Sam came out from the house, Sam with a sunshade over her shoulder and a spattering of red marks across her face and arms where the sparks from the jumper had burned her. O’Neill looked tired still, but more relaxed than Cam had ever seen his counterpart. Danyel looked over his shoulder, his mouth quirking into a wry smile.
“It’s still weird not having Teal’c here.”
“Indeed it must be.” Their own Teal’c came around the back of the jumper, supporting Carter, whose leg had been thoroughly bandaged, linen wrappings over the field dressing. Marik was already on board, sitting uncomfortably on one of the rear seats, his hands securely tied behind him, and Carolyn was waiting in the opening to get Carter settled.
Daniel came around the back of the jumper. “So. I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind?”
Danyel shook his head, and Cam straightened.
“I know I’ve asked before, and I know you’ve said no, but — this is the last chance I can give you. Are you sure you’re not coming back with us?”
“It would be really weird,” O’Neill said.
Sam smiled. “Thank you, but — we’re staying.”
“Ready to go?” Daniel asked, his voice a little too bright.
“Yeah,” Cam said. “As soon as Carolyn has Carter settled.” Behind them there was the sound of pickaxes at work, Hor-Aha’s men burying the stargate for once and for all. “Ai’s already headed out for Mishihase. She says she’ll never say a word about what happened.”
Daniel looked at him keenly. “And you believe her?”
Cam shrugged sheepishly. “If she does tell anybody… I guess it will turn into one of those wild stories about gods and heroes who had battles in the sky a long time ago.”
“I suppose it will,” Daniel said, and he put his hand on Cam’s shoulder. “You know, you’ve learned a lot about how culture and oral transmission work.”
“I’m not actually stupid, Daniel.”
“I never thought you were.” Daniel said. “It’s just, you know…”
“O’Neill left some big shoes to fill. I know.” Cam shrugged again.
“You’re really different from Jack,” Daniel said. “And that’s a good thing. He was exactly the man the program needed then, and you’re exactly the one it needs now.”
“Which just leaves us the question of what happens when Carter gets the Hammond,” Cam said. “Breaking up the band again.”
“I expect we’ll muddle through,” Daniel said with an ironic twist of his eyebrow. “And it’s time.” There were shouts out where the men were burying the Stargate, the sounds of workmen calling to one another. Daniel looked toward the sound. “Someday,” he said quietly. “Someday a little girl named Catherine Langford will watch her father dig that up. She’ll watch them raise it from the sands and she’ll wonder what it does. She’ll spend her whole life wondering. And one day when she’s old she’ll come and find me and we’ll open a gate to another world.” He looked at Danyel. “To Abydos.”
Danyel offered Daniel his hand. “I hope you find your way home.”
Daniel nodded slowly. “I hope I do too.”
Carolyn looked up from beside Carter. “We’re ready.”
“Good luck,” Sam said softly, and Cam nodded.
“Thanks.”
She and O’Neill took a few steps back, Danyel following more slowly, and abruptly O’Neill drew himself up into a parade-ground salute. It should have looked ridiculous, from a man in linen shorts and a gold chain and nothing else, but Cam felt a sudden lump in his throat.
“Godspeed, SG-1.”
Cam returned the salute, knowing there weren’t words, and started up the ramp into the jumper. Carter was watching, and he had to clear his throat before he could speak. “You OK?”
“I’ll keep until we get home,” she said with a smile. “It’s all good.”
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Cam said.
They took off into a crystal clear Egyptian morning, skies without a hint of smog or industrial pollution. All of that was centuries in the future, along with antibiotics and ice cream. Carolyn leveled the jumper out neatly at 5,000 feet, following the course of the Nile northward over the green fingers of the Delta, toward the cerulean waters of the Mediterranean, Cam riding shotgun in the second seat. Carolyn was getting a lot more confident flying, and besides the jumper liked her. In the back, Vala and Teal’c were watching Marik.
“I kind of wish we could have a look around while we’re here,” Daniel said from behind Cam. “Cloaked, of course. But it would be really nice to just take a quick side trip over to Mesopotamia. Or Troy. The first city built on Hisarlik was begun about now. Also this is the First Harappan Period in the Indus Valley, and very little is known about it…” He stopped, his voice trailing off, and then began again in a different tone. “And Myrddin’s people are building Stonehenge, and some other grandchildren of the Ancients are founding Caral…”
“Daniel,” Carter said gently, reaching across the aisle to touch his shoulder. “Let it be.”
“I know.” Daniel squared his shoulders. “I got into this because I wanted answers to the mysteries. But the answers aren’t here on Earth. They never were.” He looked at Carter and shook his head. “Ai doesn’t have them. The children of the Ancients never did. The answers to our questions about the Ancients, about who we are and why, about what they chose and what they did and what happened to destroy them — those answers are all out there.”
“Where we’re going,” Carter said and squeezed his shoulder. “That’s where we’re going, Daniel.”
Cam looked at Carolyn, for once in perfect agreement. “But I suppose there’s no harm in a little low altitude flyby of the Yucatan. After all, it’s right on the way.”
Cheyenne Mountain
2008 AD
Hank Landry stood up and headed for the coffeepot to pour himself another cup.
“I don’t think you’ve got time for that,” Jack O’Neill said. He was still lounging in the visitor chair, his casual pose belying the tension in his face.
Hank looked around. “Why not?”
“Because SG-1 has been gone four hours.” O’Neill got to his feet. “And four hours is the safety parameter built into Janus’ puddle jumper. It can’t arrive within four hours of its own departure.”
Hank blinked. He swore O’Neill looked smug. “How the hell do you know that?”
“Carter told me.” O’Neill picked up his cover. “Come on. Let’s go up to the parking lot.”
“The parking lot?”
“Why risk making the transition back to our time in the Mountain?” O’Neill asked. “Lots of wide open skies up there. Come on.”
The elevato
r seemed to take forever. Every sentence he could think to begin started with ‘If Carolyn.’ But he couldn’t think that way. He couldn’t start that.
Out through the security checkpoints, everyone hitting the wall for two generals. O’Neill didn’t look worried at all. Hank hoped he didn’t. But Carolyn…
Out through the tunnel, out past the sentries on duty, saluting as they passed.
“And there we go,” O’Neill said, looking up at the sky with satisfaction. There was nothing to see. And then he felt it, a breath of wind from the wrong direction, a sudden downdraft. The air shimmered. The stubby familiar form of the puddle jumper decloaked right in the priority carpool lane, settling to the ground as smoothly as a Harrier.
He could see Carolyn through the windscreen, her face calm with concentration, shutting down the board as Mitchell leaned over her shoulder, and Hank clamped his jaw shut to keep from making a sound.
The back gate came down. “Welcome home, SG-1,” said Jack O’Neill.
Egypt
2492 BC
An ibis started up, rising in a flurry of white wings, its reflection mirrored in the waters of the Nile beneath. Jack O’Neill sat on the end of his dock, fishing. It was sunset and there were a lot of mosquitoes, but there were a lot worse ways to finish the day. He batted one away from the baby on his lap. “See there?” Jack said quietly. “See those little rings on the water? That’s the fish coming up to the surface to eat bugs.”
Ellie watched the circles solemnly. Who knew whether she understood or not, or how much she’d remember, but it was worth saying anyway. Eastward, where night gathered, the first bright stars were appearing, Venus rising like a beacon in the clear sky.
“Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight,” Jack said to Ellie. “That’s what you say to make a wish.” He wondered what she’d wish for. Probably dinner.
“I wish I may, I wish I might,” Daniel said, coming down the dock.
“Have the wish I wish tonight,” Sam said. “Didn’t you hear us calling you for dinner?”
“Sorry,” Jack said. “I didn’t hear. And you didn’t finish the wish.”
“I don’t know what to wish for,” Sam said.
Jack looked at her over his shoulder. “You don’t wish we’d gone?”
“No.” Sam reached down and scooped up Ellie. “Not a bit. But I do wish…” Her voice trailed off.
“What?”
“That they’d left a big bag of chocolate.” She grinned at him. “Now come on.”
Jack got up, turning to follow her down the dock, and then stopped. Daniel was standing still, looking out across the river. “What are you doing?”
“Finishing the wish,” Daniel said. “I wish that Teal’c will have a long and happy life.”
“I wish that too,” Sam said, coming to put an arm around his waist, Ellie in the other arm.
“Me too,” Jack said, his arm around her shoulders on the other side. They stood for a long moment on the end of the dock while the stars came out and the river flowed toward the sea.
Approaching Abydos
2492 BC
The Goa’uld mothership voyaged through hyperspace, traversing stellar distances in a matter of days. Outside the blur of its hyperspace envelope, the universe went about its business as usual. Within, Ra slept in his sarcophagus.
In the best guest quarters assigned to a Goa’uld queen, Aset stood beside the window looking out at the meaningless patterns of shifted stars as though somehow she would see something of worth there. Her hair was braided with gold, and a hand device encased her fingers. Emerald silk, diaphanous as clouds, clothed her. Her sandals were set with jewels.
Her First Prime came and stood behind her, inclining his head solemnly. “What is it that you see?” he asked.
Aset turned, and it was she who looked out from painted eyes. “Only that I am homesick.” Teal’c put his arms about her waist, his forehead dipping to her shoulder. “It is a small thing.”
“Not to you,” he said.
“It is,” Aset said. “When by all rights I should be dead, and so should you. So should she, Egeria. This is better.” She lifted her head, her eyes on the window where their shared reflection was caught in the angle of glass. “We stand at the beginning of a great story, my friend. What tales there might be of the centuries to come! You and I will see and do so many things, and we will light a flame that will never be extinguished!”
“And when I am gone, you will outlive me by centuries,” Teal’c said calmly. “And Egeria will remember us long after you and I are dust.” He tightened his hand about her waist. “It is fitting.”
Her tone shifted, Egeria as well as Aset. “But for now,” she said, “there is joy. We will live and love.”
Teal’c closed his eyes, and could not in that moment find the words to gainsay her.
Area 51
2009 AD
Sam had never met the Secretary of State, though of course she’d seen her on TV for years. She’d been the First Lady when Sam was assigned to the Pentagon, a shiny new lieutenant twenty five years old. But Sam hadn’t exactly gotten White House invitations in those days. Now the Secretary had come to Area 51 to launch the George Hammond.
There was a reviewing stand built of hastily painted timber beside the Hammond’s bow, bunting flapping in the stiff wind. Probably Walter had seen to that. He was the one who always seemed to remember the bunting. Jack never did.
Jack was talking to the Secretary easily, impeccable in his beribboned blues, Mitchell standing politely a step behind him. The rest of SG-1 were clustered a little distance away, amid the strange mixture of dignitaries and construction crew waiting for the official launch, set apart from the flight suited crew of the Hammond.
Sam wore the flight suit, the new ship patch heavy on the sleeve. Over her heart was the other one — Col. Samantha Carter. Jack had grinned at that, tweaked it with one finger. “As a matter of fact, it does say colonel on your uniform.”
“I made sure of that,” Sam had said.
Now he looked up and gestured her over, turning to the Secretary. “I’d like you to meet Colonel Carter.”
The Secretary was tiny. That was the thing that was so surprising. Sam was used to being taller than a lot of women, but the Secretary always seemed to loom so huge that it was odd to look down half a foot at her. She wore a bright yellow jacket, bright as a caution pennant in the brisk desert wind, and her hair was dyed the color of wheat, but her age showed around her eyes, sixty something and hard as nails. “Colonel Carter.” There was warmth in her voice. “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
There was never a good answer to that, one that didn’t make you either sound smug or like a smart ass. Sam settled for saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
“I believe it was June of ‘98,” the Secretary said. “When Apophis was attacking Earth. I was evacuated from the White House. But SG-1 came through.” She glanced up at Jack.
“All in a day’s work,” Jack said.
“Apparently,” the Secretary said dryly. She offered Sam her hand and shook it firmly. “Congratulations on your post, Colonel Carter. I trust you’ll keep it from being too much of a boys’ club out there.”
“I’ll do my best, ma’am,” Sam said, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“The George Hammond,” the Secretary said. “He was a fine man, and I regret that he’s not here today.”
“If he were, we wouldn’t be naming the ship after him,” Jack said, his mouth tightening, getting flip when something mattered.
The Secretary glanced up at him again, then nodded gravely. “This is a fitting way to honor his memory.”
Sam looked away, blinking against the glare of the desert sun on the Hammond’s hull. She couldn’t help but hope that in some sense he was here, that he saw what he had wrought. Thank you, she said in the quiet of her mind. Thank you so much.
“If you’ll do the honors,” Jack said, putting a champagne bottl
e into the Secretary’s hand.
“By all means.” Everyone quieted as the Secretary stepped up to the microphone on the platform beside the bow. “It is both an honor and a pleasure to be with you today…” she began.
Sam came to parade rest without thinking about it, her expression attentive and bland as the Secretary began her speech. Her eyes roved over the smooth lines of the Hammond’s bow, over the crew assembled in perfect order, Major Franklin barbered within an inch of his life, his flight suit ironed to sharp creases, Lieutenants Chandler and Wright, Davies and Ikram, and behind them with the Marine detachment a flash of red-gold, Captain Cadman’s hair severely coiled beneath her beret. Her new team.
She’d come full circle. She was forty-one, the colonel who’d seen it all and done it all, all the way around the circle until she stood in Jack’s shoes, ready to begin again. The universe has symmetry, if only you can stand far enough back to see it.
The Secretary finished her speech and broke the champagne bottle across the bow with a practiced hand. Everyone cheered. Other bottles were opened more conventionally and the military band started playing. Off we go, into the wild blue yonder… Her mind supplied the words unsung.
Daniel was at her elbow. “Here you go,” he said. “Breaking up the band.”
There wasn’t anything to say to that, so she just hugged him, feeling his startlement for a moment before he relaxed. “You be careful,” he whispered in her ear.
“I always am.”
“Break a leg!” Vala said chipperly. “I mean that in a good way.”
“I hope I’m done with broken legs for a while,” Sam said.
“Good luck,” Cam said. “And remember, if you need us, just holler.”
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