Naquadah Tipped Warheads & Banana Smoothies ~ Over 16s ~ 7 of 11
Details, disclaimers and Part One here
Part Two here
Part Three here
Part Four here
Part Five here
Part Six here
Dowload the mp3 podcast for this chapter by clicking (right click to save) here
August 20th 2007 - Officers’ Quarters, Groom Lake, Nevada
30 *THIRTY* Three-oh Weeks pregnant
Ooookay -
this has been one weirdo day.
I’m off to Kansas tomorrow. Yes, you heard me - Dorothy is off to see Aunty Em. Well, actually Dr Bricksdale, who is still banged up in Fort Leavenworth. You remember that weasly British guy who was helping the rogue N.I.D. agents last year? He got the hand device to work to get them onto Osiris’ Alkesh? It seems there may be a second cloaked Alkesh still orbiting! No, I didn’t find it - I wish I had, but SG1 recovered some intel and they’re sure it’s kosher. Seems odd that - talking about SG1 and I’m not with them. Anyway, the hand device is here, (as in Area 51). Bricksdale got it to work before, so Cam, Dan and all think it would be a good idea if I personally take it to him - if we can’t get it to work, surely no-one on Earth can. I’ve got medical clearance for the short hop from Nellis to AAF Sherman and then onto Leavenworth. The only stipulation is that I have to rest for four working days before flying back. I get furlough and I don’t have to take it out of my leave! R-E-S-U-L-T!
I can hardly wait to go - it’s not exactly like being back on SG1, but it’s got to be more useful than signing R&D approvals, that’s for sure!
That’s not all. This bit is the weird part. Cam called me after the video conference and asked me something. Would I like to stay at his parent’s place in Shawnee County? It’s only 45 minutes drive from Leavenworth and he says it is the most relaxing place on the planet. I know a certain silver fox that would argue that point, but anyway... I thought about it... for two seconds and said yes. And then he was laughing at me, saying he’d better go and ask his mom now, hahaha!
Why in the many gods names have I said I will go and stay with some folks I’ve only met once?
Because they sound real, Jack. They sound alive and normal and they know nothing of the Stargate and alien incursions. I want *real* and *normal* for my child - our child, and I think you would too.
I said ‘yes’ and it was only a matter of minutes before Cam called me back and said that his mom and dad would be thrilled and honored to have me come visit. Honored? I tackled him then - damn! He’s told them I’m some kind of Air Force hero and that my partner is MIA - and they know about the baby!
Damn, damn, damn!
It’s not all the baby! For crying out loud! I’m my own person as well as a mother!
I’m a mother?
I’m a *mother*.
Ohmygod.
August 21st 2007 - Visitor’s Quarters, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas 2047 hours
Here! At last!
The charter Lear was hit by low level turbulence over Utah, but the baby did not like it and my BP is still at 40 thousand feet. I was hauled off straight to the base doc who has grounded me for at least seven days! I feel like this is the longest pregnancy in history! At least I’m here now, the hand device is in the quartermaster’s vault, and I see Bricksdale in the morning.
I called Mr. & Mrs. Mitchell and explained about the journey - I’ve agreed to update them tomorrow, which they are fine about.
I need to pee, eat and sleep, in that order!
(I’m having FUN though!)
Sam the Stupidly Pregnant person
xxxxx
August 22nd 2007 - Visitor’s Quarters, Fort Leavenworth
Just a quickie update before I hit the mess.
I met with Derek Bricksdale this morning, and I gotta tell you, orange jumpsuits do not suit him. He must have dropped at least 25 pounds since last year, maybe more. Prison food? I guess we both know about that. He was nothing but co-operative and respectful - he even stood up when I waddled in - although he nearly tripped over his leg chains at the sight of me; I certainly haven’t dropped 25 pounds! I ordered the restraints off ASAP much to the chagrin of the guards, but I just know he’s not going to try anything, and I reckon I could still take him despite my center of gravity being somewhat off. We had to use one of the prison rooms to work, but engineers from the base had supplied everything I’d asked for and I brought some kit with me. Bricksdale worked all day without a break and was entirely ‘Yes Ma’am, no ma’am’. He is desperately hoping for extradition back to England and he was so keen to make the device work.
All he wants is to go home.
I imagine that’s how you feel every waking moment.
All *I* want is you home with us, both of us.
Sam
X
August 23rd 2007 - Visitor’s Quarters, still at Fort Leavenworth
Job Done!
I won’t bore you with the details - hell, yes! I will bore you with the details - wait while I get an apple and a doughnut to demonstrate, hahaha! So Cam and Dan were told by an escaped slave that she had been aboard an orbiting Alkesh that had been abandoned; there had been *three* in orbit near us last year! She described Earth perfectly, but also stated that the Alkesh had been placed in a high orbit around a dusty grey planet near Earth. I’m looking around - well, there’s only one! When Osiris didn’t return, her First Prime ordered everyone onto one Alkesh and they returned to Osiris’ base in Lyre, the slave had gone AWOL in the confusion that followed, so go her. She was selling the intel for food (she’s only 16) and had no other reason to lie, although it seems a certain PhD (Arch) has repatriated her to the Land of the Light. I love him!
Now, last year, the reason why we couldn’t get Osiris' hand device to work to get aboard her cloaked vessel was that initially, it was coded to not only respond to Naquadah, but specific DNA, meaning that only she could use it. We know that Asgard transporter technology has an extremely long range - at least as far as the Earth's surface to a ship in a polar orbit of the Moon, so it is possible that it could still be usable - the girl may be mistaken about the third Alkesh being vacated. Which means, it’s *also* possible that there could be at least one alien who is able to transport back and forth at will... or even one of the Trust? We know there could be any number of Goa’ulded Trust running about Earth since Kinsey was taken.
Bricksdale worked all day again using the samples of known Trust members’ DNA that we had on file and just before we were going to quit - *BINGO* One of the Trust who were eliminated in that Trust/Kinsey sting was the key behind door number three.
YES!
We have access to Alkesh #3!
Derek thinks he’s now going home. His conduct was exemplary so in a moment of weakness, I’ve approved his request.
He doesn’t know that he’ll be home *sans* the other million in his second Cayman Islands account that he thinks we don’t know about.
HA.
It would be at this point that I would ‘gate/transport/fly off to right some wrong, save a planet or two and blow up a sun on the side.
Instead I conference call the SGC, eat a light supper, draw a warm bath and rub stretch mark cream into my stomach.
And I’m okay with that.
Tomorrow, the Mitchells are coming to take me away from all this.
Later, ‘gater.
S
xxxx
August 24th 2007 - Mitchell Homestead, Auburn, Kansas
Jack, you would love this place!
It’s like something out of Better Homes & Gardens; gorgeous red clapperboard fascia, flowers everywhere (that’s Wendy’s doing), and Frank has an entire study room of books! Apparently it used to be a run-down farm, but the land got sold off and the Mitchells bought the building after Frank had his accident. Have you met him? Ties on Sundays man. He used to be a test pilot but something obviously went badly wrong because he’s a double below the knee amputee. Not that it seems to have stopped him; because he can get around just fine on crutches. In fact he was the one who picked me up this morning. He’s so charming - I was quite flustered!
By lunchtime my pitiful amount of gear was stored in the guest bedroom over the kitchen and I was sitting under a parasol in the yard having chicken salad and iced tea. I was relaxed, happy, and contented for the first time in many months. I chatted amiably with Frank and Wendy Mitchell and as I did, I realized that Cam has his father’s eyes and his mother’s mouth and I couldn’t help but wonder whose traits our child will inherit. Your intuition? Your moral sense? Your ass?
I’ve don’t think I’ve ever been made more welcome in such a short space of time. Frank is an intelligent and well-read man (well, it’s no wonder with all those books). I can tell he doesn’t buy the deep space telemetry cover at all but he’s tactful enough not to press the point. Perhaps he’s shielding his wife from worry over Cam’s position? They must have gone through hell after he was injured in Antarctica.
Wendy and I have really hit it off. I can’t believe that two such different women should get along so well. I teased her that she’s Auburn’s answer to Martha Stewart; seriously, even her bathroom has chintz drapes! She *loves* cooking! We have a hot date to cook soufflé tomorrow. She wants to know all about the baby and asked me many questions about you.
She also asked me if I was okay with that; talking about you I mean, and you what? It was okay. Absolutely okay. I spent my first trimester avoiding talking about you, the second half watching other people avoiding talking about you and the last trimester wanting someone to talk about you. I showed her all the photos I had (not many, most are at Casa Carter in Colorado Springs). She showed me some scrapbooks that she’s compiled. There are some cute ones of Cam and his kid brother Andy. Apparently scrapbooking is the new TV? Why did I not know this? HAHAHA!
I did like what she has done though, and I’ve been thinking about the best way to introduce you to our infant. She’s going to take me to something called a ‘crop’ on Monday night.
DON’T say it.
I’ve just realized why I like her.
She could be my mom if mom had lived. She even has the same hair.
Anyway, it’s late now and I’m gonna hit my FOUR-POSTER pine bed complete with Laura Ashley drapes (no, I didn’t know either but they’re pretty).
I wish you were here,
S
xxx
Saturday, August 25th 2007 - Mitchell Homestead, Auburn, Kansas 1015
..and about to hit the road.
Hey! I got to lie in! I woke at 0930! Just outside my room was a tray of breakfast things and a note to say that Wendy and Frank have gone into town for supplies but wanted to leave me sleeping. I’ve had a shower and now I’m off exploring. The land here is mercifully flat (hills are tough when your lungs are being pushed up into your shoulders!), the roads are quiet and it’s a gorgeous day!
TTYL!
S
X
Later on August 25th
Remind me NOT to do that again in a hurry.
The roads may be flat but they’re loooooooooong,
I strode off with my Evian and my cell phone and strode off and strode off. I was intending to do a quick circuit, past a small spinney I’d seen in the distance, but dumbass I am, I got lost! How I can get lost on land that resembles a checkerboard I’ll never know. The Pegasus Galaxy and back? No sweat. A (supposedly) short walk around a town with a scattered population of 2000? Forget it!
I’d been plodding for about forty minutes, thinking I recognized the road, heading back to the Mitchell’s place. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the roads were deserted. Then came that awful feeling that I didn’t, in fact, recognize the road at all. I walked for a further fifteen minutes, fixing the horizon by some low lying hills (flint, I think Frank said they were) in the distance, and then I was sure. By this time, my water was almost gone, my breakfast was a distant memory, and it was getting very hot. I’m only wearing a thin sleeveless top and maternity pants and don’t shout at me, but I didn’t pack a hat.
I did the sensible thing and called the Mitchells to ‘fess up so they could come and rescue me.
Well, I would have done.
No signal on my shiny new Nokia.
Damn.
Kept walking.
Kept walking.
Jack, I was getting quite scared. Me. *Scared*
I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I was putting the baby in danger again. Once at Area 51 by misjudging the temperature and fluid intake was one thing but then a repeat performance two weeks later? What an idiot! How in the name of Apophis can I even *think* that I can be a responsible parent when I can’t even manage it *before* the kid arrives!
I can see some houses on the horizon but they’re across a field. A *planted* field. They are closer as the crow flies than following the gridlined blacktop so I take the decision; I need to find shelter and water quickly. I make like a crow and hitch my tusch down into that ditch only to discover that there is a fence at the bottom.
Oh man.
I eye the road, regard the fence and reassess the distance of the houses.
I try my cell for the 57th time.
Zilch.
It’s now or never.
The fence is made of metal slats and looks new, that is, sturdy enough to take me plus one half. I climb up and over…
… only to learn the ditch is water-logged and slopes up at a much steeper angle than I’d realized.
I’ll never get up the incline with the size I am now.
I don’t believe it.
I’m swigging the last of my water when my knight in shining armor arrives. Actually, it’s a hillbilly in plaid and a beat-up pick-up truck. “Ma’am!” I crane my neck up to see a surprisingly handsome face showing a great deal of concern, which doubles when he realizes my condition.
He yells down; “Are you okay? I saw you from the road.. did you fall?”
I’m clinging onto the fence like it’s a lifeline. “Umm.. no.. I got lost.. I’m lost.”
I can’t believe how pathetic that sounds. I’m so mad at myself, I’m seven months *dumb*!
He scrambles down the slope and I’m suddenly very aware that I’m in an extremely vulnerable position and my handgun is safely in my luggage back at the Mitchell homestead.
Crap.
Well, he can’t try anything with a steel fence between us unless he has a weapon, so I recce the surroundings for something I can use. I get nothing.
I flip open my cell phone in desperation and press redial.
“I doubt you’ll get a signal, Ma’am, two cell repeaters went down last year after the big twister and the phone companies haven’t replaced them.”
He’s right.
I regard the man in front of me. Although his clothes suggest hillbilly, the large hazel eyes betrayed intelligence and capability. Strands of dark brown hair poked out from under a back-to-front ball cap, a concession to youth from the 40-something.
While I’m looking at him, he’s appraising me.
“Ma’am I-“
“Samantha Carter,” I offer. I get a good feeling about him.
He nods in thanks. “Ms. Carter, we do this one of two ways. I can leave you here and go get help-“
“I’m visiting Frank & Wendy Mitchell.”
Well, if he’s going to strangle me and leave me for dead, he may as well know who he is killing, right?
“I can go get Frank - I went to school with Cam by the way, George Washington High, class of ’87 - or I can help you over and we can have you sipping Mrs. Mitchell’s glorious iced tea in ten minutes.”
This was no hillbilly for sure. The prospect of iced tea sounded heavenly. And he knows Cam.
“David Pryce, Pryce with a ‘Y’.” A beefy but well manicured hand is thrust over the fence by way of a handshake.
What the hell.
I take his hand, not in a handshake but as a steadying grip and begin to climb. “Mr. Pryce-“
He plants his feet apart to hold my weight and my left leg swings back over the fence. “Dave,” he hisses through clenched teeth, and his free arm circles where my waist used to be.
“Okay, Dave, do you regularly rescue dumb pregnant women on your way home from work?” I make my way gingerly back to the sensible side of the fence, conscious that my baby-tummy is right in my new found friend’s eye line.
I hit terra firma.
The responding smile is smooth and expensive. He drops his hands. “Actually, I only do rescues Monday through Thursday, but I’m feeling generous, so you got lucky... Hey!”
I guess I must have done some sort of eye-roll-back-into-the-head thing because the next moment I knew I was being guided up the slope and eased into the passenger seat of the Chevy pick-up. A bottle of water is thrust into my hand.
“Sorry, but I’ve had some out of that,” he apologizes.
“I don’t care. Thanks!” I glug the liquid back, grateful as it practically hisses against my throat.
You know I’ve had worse, usually in prison.
Dashing Dave jumps into the driver’s seat and he’s right about the ten minutes; the pick-up’s engine is idling outside the Mitchell’s and I’m already feeling so much better, but I also realize that I was totally on the wrong road. I’m also grateful that my hosts aren’t back yet; after all, I’m supposed to be so smart, aren’t I?
I turn to my rescuer. “Mr. Pryce-“
“Dave.”
I smile at his persistence. “Dave. I can’t thank you enough.”
He waves off my appreciation, but he has no idea.
“Can I ask you - where would I have got to if I’d just kept going straight?”
“Nebraska.”
“Oh.”
My knight in shining armor indeed, complete with Chevy stead.
He saved my considerable ass today, Jack.
Like I said, remind me NOT to do that again in a hurry.
S
Xxxx
August 26th 2007 - Mitchell Homestead, Auburn, Kansas 0912 hours
Some bad news, for the Mitchells at any rate. Wendy Mitchell’s Auntie died yesterday. Actually, her sort-of Auntie; her mom’s best friend and Wendy used to be best friends with *her* daughter.
Apparently the funeral is going to be held quite quickly - it seems her passing was expected, but it’s over in Wichita. Wendy and Frank are trying to decide what to do.
Death may be expected, but it still sucks.
S
X
August 26th - 1209 hours
Okay, it’s all decided. Mr. & Mrs. Mitchell are packing right now - they’re going to drive to Wichita for the funeral, which is the day after tomorrow and then come home right after. I’m staying right here - remember I’m not supposed to travel for a further four days? Wendy has ensured I have enough to eat for the next millennia and Frank has shown me how the generator works - a pretty simple oil-fired job, no sweat. They are full of profuse apologies but I won’t have it; they are paying their respects and that is what is important. I’m just sorry I’ll be without their company; I genuinely enjoy their amity. I guess I can catch up on my reading!
August 26th - 2030 hours
I’m so stuffed! Meatloaf, a field of vegetables and apple pie to die for. Also, food for the brain as well as the stomach: Frank’s library ranges from Austen and Attenborough to Zane Grey, and even quite an involved volume on Boolean algebra!
But I’m ashamed to say it; I’m a bit bored.
I guess I should be grateful for the peace and quiet; I surely won’t get that once the baby comes.
Sam the bookworm
xxxx
Part Two here
Part Three here
Part Four here
Part Five here
Part Six here
Dowload the mp3 podcast for this chapter by clicking (right click to save) here
August 20th 2007 - Officers’ Quarters, Groom Lake, Nevada
30 *THIRTY* Three-oh Weeks pregnant
Ooookay -
this has been one weirdo day.
I’m off to Kansas tomorrow. Yes, you heard me - Dorothy is off to see Aunty Em. Well, actually Dr Bricksdale, who is still banged up in Fort Leavenworth. You remember that weasly British guy who was helping the rogue N.I.D. agents last year? He got the hand device to work to get them onto Osiris’ Alkesh? It seems there may be a second cloaked Alkesh still orbiting! No, I didn’t find it - I wish I had, but SG1 recovered some intel and they’re sure it’s kosher. Seems odd that - talking about SG1 and I’m not with them. Anyway, the hand device is here, (as in Area 51). Bricksdale got it to work before, so Cam, Dan and all think it would be a good idea if I personally take it to him - if we can’t get it to work, surely no-one on Earth can. I’ve got medical clearance for the short hop from Nellis to AAF Sherman and then onto Leavenworth. The only stipulation is that I have to rest for four working days before flying back. I get furlough and I don’t have to take it out of my leave! R-E-S-U-L-T!
I can hardly wait to go - it’s not exactly like being back on SG1, but it’s got to be more useful than signing R&D approvals, that’s for sure!
That’s not all. This bit is the weird part. Cam called me after the video conference and asked me something. Would I like to stay at his parent’s place in Shawnee County? It’s only 45 minutes drive from Leavenworth and he says it is the most relaxing place on the planet. I know a certain silver fox that would argue that point, but anyway... I thought about it... for two seconds and said yes. And then he was laughing at me, saying he’d better go and ask his mom now, hahaha!
Why in the many gods names have I said I will go and stay with some folks I’ve only met once?
Because they sound real, Jack. They sound alive and normal and they know nothing of the Stargate and alien incursions. I want *real* and *normal* for my child - our child, and I think you would too.
I said ‘yes’ and it was only a matter of minutes before Cam called me back and said that his mom and dad would be thrilled and honored to have me come visit. Honored? I tackled him then - damn! He’s told them I’m some kind of Air Force hero and that my partner is MIA - and they know about the baby!
Damn, damn, damn!
It’s not all the baby! For crying out loud! I’m my own person as well as a mother!
I’m a mother?
I’m a *mother*.
Ohmygod.
August 21st 2007 - Visitor’s Quarters, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas 2047 hours
Here! At last!
The charter Lear was hit by low level turbulence over Utah, but the baby did not like it and my BP is still at 40 thousand feet. I was hauled off straight to the base doc who has grounded me for at least seven days! I feel like this is the longest pregnancy in history! At least I’m here now, the hand device is in the quartermaster’s vault, and I see Bricksdale in the morning.
I called Mr. & Mrs. Mitchell and explained about the journey - I’ve agreed to update them tomorrow, which they are fine about.
I need to pee, eat and sleep, in that order!
(I’m having FUN though!)
Sam the Stupidly Pregnant person
xxxxx
August 22nd 2007 - Visitor’s Quarters, Fort Leavenworth
Just a quickie update before I hit the mess.
I met with Derek Bricksdale this morning, and I gotta tell you, orange jumpsuits do not suit him. He must have dropped at least 25 pounds since last year, maybe more. Prison food? I guess we both know about that. He was nothing but co-operative and respectful - he even stood up when I waddled in - although he nearly tripped over his leg chains at the sight of me; I certainly haven’t dropped 25 pounds! I ordered the restraints off ASAP much to the chagrin of the guards, but I just know he’s not going to try anything, and I reckon I could still take him despite my center of gravity being somewhat off. We had to use one of the prison rooms to work, but engineers from the base had supplied everything I’d asked for and I brought some kit with me. Bricksdale worked all day without a break and was entirely ‘Yes Ma’am, no ma’am’. He is desperately hoping for extradition back to England and he was so keen to make the device work.
All he wants is to go home.
I imagine that’s how you feel every waking moment.
All *I* want is you home with us, both of us.
Sam
X
August 23rd 2007 - Visitor’s Quarters, still at Fort Leavenworth
Job Done!
I won’t bore you with the details - hell, yes! I will bore you with the details - wait while I get an apple and a doughnut to demonstrate, hahaha! So Cam and Dan were told by an escaped slave that she had been aboard an orbiting Alkesh that had been abandoned; there had been *three* in orbit near us last year! She described Earth perfectly, but also stated that the Alkesh had been placed in a high orbit around a dusty grey planet near Earth. I’m looking around - well, there’s only one! When Osiris didn’t return, her First Prime ordered everyone onto one Alkesh and they returned to Osiris’ base in Lyre, the slave had gone AWOL in the confusion that followed, so go her. She was selling the intel for food (she’s only 16) and had no other reason to lie, although it seems a certain PhD (Arch) has repatriated her to the Land of the Light. I love him!
Now, last year, the reason why we couldn’t get Osiris' hand device to work to get aboard her cloaked vessel was that initially, it was coded to not only respond to Naquadah, but specific DNA, meaning that only she could use it. We know that Asgard transporter technology has an extremely long range - at least as far as the Earth's surface to a ship in a polar orbit of the Moon, so it is possible that it could still be usable - the girl may be mistaken about the third Alkesh being vacated. Which means, it’s *also* possible that there could be at least one alien who is able to transport back and forth at will... or even one of the Trust? We know there could be any number of Goa’ulded Trust running about Earth since Kinsey was taken.
Bricksdale worked all day again using the samples of known Trust members’ DNA that we had on file and just before we were going to quit - *BINGO* One of the Trust who were eliminated in that Trust/Kinsey sting was the key behind door number three.
YES!
We have access to Alkesh #3!
Derek thinks he’s now going home. His conduct was exemplary so in a moment of weakness, I’ve approved his request.
He doesn’t know that he’ll be home *sans* the other million in his second Cayman Islands account that he thinks we don’t know about.
HA.
It would be at this point that I would ‘gate/transport/fly off to right some wrong, save a planet or two and blow up a sun on the side.
Instead I conference call the SGC, eat a light supper, draw a warm bath and rub stretch mark cream into my stomach.
And I’m okay with that.
Tomorrow, the Mitchells are coming to take me away from all this.
Later, ‘gater.
S
xxxx
August 24th 2007 - Mitchell Homestead, Auburn, Kansas
Jack, you would love this place!
It’s like something out of Better Homes & Gardens; gorgeous red clapperboard fascia, flowers everywhere (that’s Wendy’s doing), and Frank has an entire study room of books! Apparently it used to be a run-down farm, but the land got sold off and the Mitchells bought the building after Frank had his accident. Have you met him? Ties on Sundays man. He used to be a test pilot but something obviously went badly wrong because he’s a double below the knee amputee. Not that it seems to have stopped him; because he can get around just fine on crutches. In fact he was the one who picked me up this morning. He’s so charming - I was quite flustered!
By lunchtime my pitiful amount of gear was stored in the guest bedroom over the kitchen and I was sitting under a parasol in the yard having chicken salad and iced tea. I was relaxed, happy, and contented for the first time in many months. I chatted amiably with Frank and Wendy Mitchell and as I did, I realized that Cam has his father’s eyes and his mother’s mouth and I couldn’t help but wonder whose traits our child will inherit. Your intuition? Your moral sense? Your ass?
I’ve don’t think I’ve ever been made more welcome in such a short space of time. Frank is an intelligent and well-read man (well, it’s no wonder with all those books). I can tell he doesn’t buy the deep space telemetry cover at all but he’s tactful enough not to press the point. Perhaps he’s shielding his wife from worry over Cam’s position? They must have gone through hell after he was injured in Antarctica.
Wendy and I have really hit it off. I can’t believe that two such different women should get along so well. I teased her that she’s Auburn’s answer to Martha Stewart; seriously, even her bathroom has chintz drapes! She *loves* cooking! We have a hot date to cook soufflé tomorrow. She wants to know all about the baby and asked me many questions about you.
She also asked me if I was okay with that; talking about you I mean, and you what? It was okay. Absolutely okay. I spent my first trimester avoiding talking about you, the second half watching other people avoiding talking about you and the last trimester wanting someone to talk about you. I showed her all the photos I had (not many, most are at Casa Carter in Colorado Springs). She showed me some scrapbooks that she’s compiled. There are some cute ones of Cam and his kid brother Andy. Apparently scrapbooking is the new TV? Why did I not know this? HAHAHA!
I did like what she has done though, and I’ve been thinking about the best way to introduce you to our infant. She’s going to take me to something called a ‘crop’ on Monday night.
DON’T say it.
I’ve just realized why I like her.
She could be my mom if mom had lived. She even has the same hair.
Anyway, it’s late now and I’m gonna hit my FOUR-POSTER pine bed complete with Laura Ashley drapes (no, I didn’t know either but they’re pretty).
I wish you were here,
S
xxx
Saturday, August 25th 2007 - Mitchell Homestead, Auburn, Kansas 1015
..and about to hit the road.
Hey! I got to lie in! I woke at 0930! Just outside my room was a tray of breakfast things and a note to say that Wendy and Frank have gone into town for supplies but wanted to leave me sleeping. I’ve had a shower and now I’m off exploring. The land here is mercifully flat (hills are tough when your lungs are being pushed up into your shoulders!), the roads are quiet and it’s a gorgeous day!
TTYL!
S
X
Later on August 25th
Remind me NOT to do that again in a hurry.
The roads may be flat but they’re loooooooooong,
I strode off with my Evian and my cell phone and strode off and strode off. I was intending to do a quick circuit, past a small spinney I’d seen in the distance, but dumbass I am, I got lost! How I can get lost on land that resembles a checkerboard I’ll never know. The Pegasus Galaxy and back? No sweat. A (supposedly) short walk around a town with a scattered population of 2000? Forget it!
I’d been plodding for about forty minutes, thinking I recognized the road, heading back to the Mitchell’s place. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the roads were deserted. Then came that awful feeling that I didn’t, in fact, recognize the road at all. I walked for a further fifteen minutes, fixing the horizon by some low lying hills (flint, I think Frank said they were) in the distance, and then I was sure. By this time, my water was almost gone, my breakfast was a distant memory, and it was getting very hot. I’m only wearing a thin sleeveless top and maternity pants and don’t shout at me, but I didn’t pack a hat.
I did the sensible thing and called the Mitchells to ‘fess up so they could come and rescue me.
Well, I would have done.
No signal on my shiny new Nokia.
Damn.
Kept walking.
Kept walking.
Jack, I was getting quite scared. Me. *Scared*
I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I was putting the baby in danger again. Once at Area 51 by misjudging the temperature and fluid intake was one thing but then a repeat performance two weeks later? What an idiot! How in the name of Apophis can I even *think* that I can be a responsible parent when I can’t even manage it *before* the kid arrives!
I can see some houses on the horizon but they’re across a field. A *planted* field. They are closer as the crow flies than following the gridlined blacktop so I take the decision; I need to find shelter and water quickly. I make like a crow and hitch my tusch down into that ditch only to discover that there is a fence at the bottom.
Oh man.
I eye the road, regard the fence and reassess the distance of the houses.
I try my cell for the 57th time.
Zilch.
It’s now or never.
The fence is made of metal slats and looks new, that is, sturdy enough to take me plus one half. I climb up and over…
… only to learn the ditch is water-logged and slopes up at a much steeper angle than I’d realized.
I’ll never get up the incline with the size I am now.
I don’t believe it.
I’m swigging the last of my water when my knight in shining armor arrives. Actually, it’s a hillbilly in plaid and a beat-up pick-up truck. “Ma’am!” I crane my neck up to see a surprisingly handsome face showing a great deal of concern, which doubles when he realizes my condition.
He yells down; “Are you okay? I saw you from the road.. did you fall?”
I’m clinging onto the fence like it’s a lifeline. “Umm.. no.. I got lost.. I’m lost.”
I can’t believe how pathetic that sounds. I’m so mad at myself, I’m seven months *dumb*!
He scrambles down the slope and I’m suddenly very aware that I’m in an extremely vulnerable position and my handgun is safely in my luggage back at the Mitchell homestead.
Crap.
Well, he can’t try anything with a steel fence between us unless he has a weapon, so I recce the surroundings for something I can use. I get nothing.
I flip open my cell phone in desperation and press redial.
“I doubt you’ll get a signal, Ma’am, two cell repeaters went down last year after the big twister and the phone companies haven’t replaced them.”
He’s right.
I regard the man in front of me. Although his clothes suggest hillbilly, the large hazel eyes betrayed intelligence and capability. Strands of dark brown hair poked out from under a back-to-front ball cap, a concession to youth from the 40-something.
While I’m looking at him, he’s appraising me.
“Ma’am I-“
“Samantha Carter,” I offer. I get a good feeling about him.
He nods in thanks. “Ms. Carter, we do this one of two ways. I can leave you here and go get help-“
“I’m visiting Frank & Wendy Mitchell.”
Well, if he’s going to strangle me and leave me for dead, he may as well know who he is killing, right?
“I can go get Frank - I went to school with Cam by the way, George Washington High, class of ’87 - or I can help you over and we can have you sipping Mrs. Mitchell’s glorious iced tea in ten minutes.”
This was no hillbilly for sure. The prospect of iced tea sounded heavenly. And he knows Cam.
“David Pryce, Pryce with a ‘Y’.” A beefy but well manicured hand is thrust over the fence by way of a handshake.
What the hell.
I take his hand, not in a handshake but as a steadying grip and begin to climb. “Mr. Pryce-“
He plants his feet apart to hold my weight and my left leg swings back over the fence. “Dave,” he hisses through clenched teeth, and his free arm circles where my waist used to be.
“Okay, Dave, do you regularly rescue dumb pregnant women on your way home from work?” I make my way gingerly back to the sensible side of the fence, conscious that my baby-tummy is right in my new found friend’s eye line.
I hit terra firma.
The responding smile is smooth and expensive. He drops his hands. “Actually, I only do rescues Monday through Thursday, but I’m feeling generous, so you got lucky... Hey!”
I guess I must have done some sort of eye-roll-back-into-the-head thing because the next moment I knew I was being guided up the slope and eased into the passenger seat of the Chevy pick-up. A bottle of water is thrust into my hand.
“Sorry, but I’ve had some out of that,” he apologizes.
“I don’t care. Thanks!” I glug the liquid back, grateful as it practically hisses against my throat.
You know I’ve had worse, usually in prison.
Dashing Dave jumps into the driver’s seat and he’s right about the ten minutes; the pick-up’s engine is idling outside the Mitchell’s and I’m already feeling so much better, but I also realize that I was totally on the wrong road. I’m also grateful that my hosts aren’t back yet; after all, I’m supposed to be so smart, aren’t I?
I turn to my rescuer. “Mr. Pryce-“
“Dave.”
I smile at his persistence. “Dave. I can’t thank you enough.”
He waves off my appreciation, but he has no idea.
“Can I ask you - where would I have got to if I’d just kept going straight?”
“Nebraska.”
“Oh.”
My knight in shining armor indeed, complete with Chevy stead.
He saved my considerable ass today, Jack.
Like I said, remind me NOT to do that again in a hurry.
S
Xxxx
August 26th 2007 - Mitchell Homestead, Auburn, Kansas 0912 hours
Some bad news, for the Mitchells at any rate. Wendy Mitchell’s Auntie died yesterday. Actually, her sort-of Auntie; her mom’s best friend and Wendy used to be best friends with *her* daughter.
Apparently the funeral is going to be held quite quickly - it seems her passing was expected, but it’s over in Wichita. Wendy and Frank are trying to decide what to do.
Death may be expected, but it still sucks.
S
X
August 26th - 1209 hours
Okay, it’s all decided. Mr. & Mrs. Mitchell are packing right now - they’re going to drive to Wichita for the funeral, which is the day after tomorrow and then come home right after. I’m staying right here - remember I’m not supposed to travel for a further four days? Wendy has ensured I have enough to eat for the next millennia and Frank has shown me how the generator works - a pretty simple oil-fired job, no sweat. They are full of profuse apologies but I won’t have it; they are paying their respects and that is what is important. I’m just sorry I’ll be without their company; I genuinely enjoy their amity. I guess I can catch up on my reading!
August 26th - 2030 hours
I’m so stuffed! Meatloaf, a field of vegetables and apple pie to die for. Also, food for the brain as well as the stomach: Frank’s library ranges from Austen and Attenborough to Zane Grey, and even quite an involved volume on Boolean algebra!
But I’m ashamed to say it; I’m a bit bored.
I guess I should be grateful for the peace and quiet; I surely won’t get that once the baby comes.
Sam the bookworm
xxxx