Adventures, Ch 01 - Redemption, Part 1
Title: Adventures
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Stargate - Atlantis
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the secondary index page.
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EPISODE 01 - REDEMPTION
Author’s note:
I always found it a little unlikely that Jonas Quinn alone would have discovered the instability of the naquadria. He wasn’t even a scientist, for God’s sake! So I chose to make said discovery a little more believable.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Somewhen during the last two - no, almost three - months Dr. Calvin Thomas Kavanagh had come to the realization that he liked life in Colorado Springs a lot. Sure, working under the Cheyenne Mountain was like life in a high-tech bunker from some really cheesy sci-fi movie, and the fact that he couldn’t tell about his real work anyone sucked. In exchange, however, he got a paycheck he couldn’t have even dreamed of anywhere else, had a nice house for his patchwork family to live in, and the work itself was exciting and inspiring.
He liked working with Dr. Petersen and Dr. Loewen. Their fields were close enough, and Petersen had a warped, sarcastic sense of humour that matched Calvin’s own very well. They also shared a deep dislike for a certain Rodney McKay, and that was an unbreakable bond among all scientists that had ever been exposed to the Canadian’s ego. Even Chloe Loewen agreed with them. Being a blonde, she’d been the suffering object of McKay’s chauvinistic jokes about dumb blondes too often to not take offence.
Actually, Calvin and Chloe shared more than work and their hatred for McKay. Chloe was Swedish, and like all Scandinavians, she had a much more… relaxed attitude towards casual sex. She knew what she wanted, and having an actual relationship wasn’t one of those things. Her work was more important for her, at least for the time being. But from time to time, she had an itch that needed to be scratched, and Calvin was more than willing to do her the favour. He had his own itches, considering that he’d been alone since his divorce, and the arrangement worked well enough for both of them.
Sure, he did feel lonely sometimes (at the rare occasion when he had the time to think about such things). He missed the true intimacy that casual sex could never give: the small things one only shared in an established relationship. Like waking up next to someone who was actually important for him as a person. Or to do small domestic task together. Or just sit in companionable silence and relax in the presence of a person who would care.
But one couldn’t have everything, and all things considered, he was fairly content with his life. Besides, this was not the right time to start pursuing a new relationship. His children had just begun to get used to their new surroundings and were about to get over their clinging phase. He could not risk their fragile emotional stability. Not now, not for a while yet, it seemed. So, the casual on/off thing with Chloe was the best solution for the moment. At least it offered them both a good outlet for their pent-up sexual frustration, without any strings attached. It was an honest and satisfying arrangement - for now.
The family had taken the move across the country well enough. Now that she wasn’t forced to labour in the K-Mart long hours for a miserable paycheck, Siobhan had practically come to a late bloom. Sure, she was still painfully thin and would probably remain that way - all Kavanaghs tended to slim builds - but the thin lines of concern that had been etched into her face or so long were slowly fading away, and she smiled a lot more than before, which made her look as pretty as she used to be as a young girl. She enjoyed her new life as a housewife very much, and she had become good friends with Colonel Dixon’s overworked little wife, Glenda, in no time.
That fact made Calvin particularly glad. With Patrick finally having found a job as a construction worker and himself working long hours in the lab, Siobhan would have grown lonely, all on her own, while the kids were at school. And Mrs Dixon wasn’t only a mother of four, she also had a degree in education and could be very helpful when Siobhan ran into problems with Liam or Tommy. The three sons of the Dixons, aged between seven and thirteen, accepted Liam without much ado, while Una Leonie, their golden little princess of five, seemed to have taken a liking to Tommy, who apparently returned the feeling with the same ardour.
The adjustment to the new school had been a little bumpy at first, despite the truly idyllic surroundings. Canon Elementary had been built on a former wildlife refugee site and had playgrounds near the Cheyenne Creek, so that the children could see birds and squirrels while playing. Asking for the advice of Dr. Janet Fraiser, Calvin had chosen this particular school for his kids because it offered support courses for the gifted as well as special education for those who needed extra help. He didn’t want to take his sons to different schools. They both needed the reassurance of the other’s presence, after all the sudden changes in their lives.
After a thorough discussion with Ms Struble, the school principal, Calvin had decided to enrol Liam into the second grade class, only one year above his actual age, so that he’d be with kids who weren’t years older than him - or twice his size. To keep his boy’s overactive mind occupied, Calvin had also enrolled him into science and computer courses for young children, and as Liam didn’t show any interest for sports, being a small, fragile child for his almost seven years, he was allowed to take an extra art class.
After the first minor conflicts (more with the other kids than with the teachers, fortunately) even Liam, who’d had serious problems with female persons of authority, ever since his mother had kidnapped him, calmed down and began to develop a tentative trust toward his male class teacher, Sean Rhames. At Canon Elementary, all classes had two teachers, and while Calvin personally found Liam’s other teacher, Ms Burkhardt, a very likeable lady, he was glad that the boy had a male authority person at hand. Due to his traumatic experiences, Liam found it much easier to trust men. Later on, that might bring up new problems, but right now, the presence of a male teacher helped things considerably.
As for Tommy, he seemed to have fallen instantly in love with one of his kindergarten teachers. Ms McCormack was a quirky little redhead in her mid-thirties, small of stature but great of heart; an always delighted person who could tell the most exciting stories off the top of her head and knew the funniest games. Calvin learned later that she was also a well known author of children’s books who chose to work with children instead just write for them.
So, the kids were well off, Siobhan was happy, and with Patrick having a job again and Calvin himself getting the handsome paycheck for the third time already, the Kavanagh clan settled well enough in Colorado Springs. For the first time in their lives, they had no serious financial problems, and even though the long-overdue new car would still have to wait at least half a year (or longer), they began to breathe easier.
Of course, Murphy’s Law chose that very moment to come to full effect again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Theoretically, it would have been Calvin’s second day off. He’d been moonlighting a great deal during the last two weeks, working on a solution that would eventually replace naquadria with liquid naquadah in the propulsion system of the X-302, the first human-made ship that was capable of interstellar travel - or so its creators hoped The ship had just recently been completed in Area 51, and was nearly ready for test flights. Nobody cold foretell whether its systems would truly work. They had been developed by retro-engineering Goa’uld technology but not yet been tested under real conditions.
For his part, Calvin had serious doubts about the naquadria’s usefulness. The dratted element was just too unstable for his comfort. Willem Petersen shared his doubts, which was why they worked so hard with the liquid naquadah, and so did several other engineers But the military wanted results - preferably yesterday - and people like Dr. Larry Murphy were stupid (or irresponsible) enough to press forward and to promise quick results, regardless of the possible consequences.
Having finished the next series of tests with liquid naquadah - tests that yielded satisfactory results - project leader Dr. Bill Lee had ordered both Petersen and Calvin to take two days free, as an exchange for all the late hours they’d spent in the lab. Calvin welcomed the order as Liam’s birthday happened to be on his first day off. They had a surprise party in the afternoon, with all the Dixon kids and Dr. Fraiser’s teenaged daughter visiting, a barbecue in the garden, a big cake for the birthday id and lots of fun. Jonas Quinn had cooked up for some Kelownan speciality, which turned out surprisingly good, Smithy came to help fastening the brand new basketball ring on the side of the house, and even Colonel O’Neill dropped in for a short visit, gifting a basketball glove upon Liam, who’d never use it but was happy with it nonetheless.
Right after coming to Colorado Springs, Calvin had been surprised by Colonel O’Neill’s interest in his family. Granted, they were almost neighbours, but the colonel wasn’t generally known as getting all friendly with the civilians (unlike Dixon), and Calvin didn’t even work under his command. It had been a month or so later that Calvin learned from Dr. Fraiser how tragically O’Neill had lost his own son, and that the Kavanagh kids, being all blue-eyed blonds, perhaps reminded him of Charlie. Whatever the reason might be, the boys soon became very fond of ‘Colonel Jack’, as Liam called him, despite his futile attempts to make them interested in sports.
The birthday party lasted really late in the night, so Calvin decided to excuse his sons from school on the net day and let them sleep in as long as they wanted. The Reverend would never have condoned such blatant violation of one’s duties, even if the person of question was barely seven. But although Calvin took duty - and especially the education of his kids - very seriously, he didn’t see things quite so narrowly as his father.
“I thought we could go to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in the afternoon,” he said to Siobhan over their first cp of coffee in the kitchen. “We haven’t seen much of Colorado Springs since we moved here, and both kids are interested in animals. We can download the zoo map from the Internet and print out a copy for everyone. We could have lunch in the Safari Café there, and pick up Patrick from the construction site afterwards and come home together.”
Siobhan gave the huge pile of dirty dishes from the pervious night a disheartened look. “I’d love to, but…”
“I’ll help you wash the dishes,” Calvin offered. “In any case, we should buy a dishwasher, soon.”
“That’s not necessary,” Siobhan replied. “We don’t always have so many dirty dishes. Besides, you need a new car before the Chevy falls to pieces under you.”
“I like the Chevy,” Calvin said stubbornly. “And a new car is more than what we could afford right now. We can afford the dishwasher, though.”
“Not if you ever want a new car,” his sister answered, and they both laughed.
In that very moment, the phone rung. Calvin picked it up, expecting the worst. “Kavanagh.”
“Siler,” the voice of the somewhat accident-prone technical sergeant of the SGC answered. “You’re needed in the Mountain, sir. ASAP.”
“Actually,” Calvin said, “I have the day off.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Siler answered, “but this is a Code Red alert. All personnel of the engineering department are being called in.”
“I see,” Calvin said, suddenly eerily calm. Code Red was bad, very bad. “I’ll need a lift, then. My family uses the car in the afternoon.”
“That won’t be a problem sir,” Siler replied. “Colonel O’Neil has offered to pick you up on his way in.”
“O’Neill?” Calvin frowned. “But he’s got a partially torn ligament in his knee… could barely limp around yesterday.”
“He declared that he didn’t have the time for ‘such nonsense’, and that a bandage would do the trick. You can expect him in twenty,” and with that, Siler hung up.
Siobhan watched her brother with concerned eyes. “You need to go back to the Mountain?”
Calvin nodded worriedly. “It seems then can’t go on for two days in a row without me. Liam will be very disappointed.”
“I can tell him,” Siobhan offered, but Calvin shook his head.
“No, I’ll do it. He always accepts unpleasant news easier when they come from me.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Liam was indeed not very happy about the loss of family time, but, precocious child as he was, he understood that his Papa sometimes just had to go back to work. Besides, he was happy to see ‘Colonel Jack’ again, and so soon. The sympathy between them was mutual.
“I’m sorry I have to take your Papa with me,” like everyone else, O’Neill had also learned quickly not to refer to the Kavanagh kids’ father as their Dad. For reasons only the family knew, they didn’t like it. “But the other scientists in the lab need his help.”
The boy looked up to him with too-serious cornflower-blue eyes, and Calvin’s heart contorted for a moment, wishing that his son could be as careless as other children of his age, even though he knew that would never happen. Never again. Lost innocence could never be regained.
In such moments he could have cheerfully murdered his ex-wife.
“I know,” Liam replied to O’Neill earnestly. “Papa is very, very good. Dr. Lou said he’s even better than Dr. Willem.”
“Well, if he says so, it must be true,” O’Neill said, easily recognizing behind the nicknames Balinsky from SG-13 and Petersen, with whom the boy’s father shared a lab.
“How long must Papa be gone?” Liam asked anxiously.
“Honestly, I can’t tell,” O’Neill replied. “But I promise to bring him back as soon as possible. You know I always keep my promises, right?”
Liam nodded. “Because of Charlie,” he said.
“Because of Charlie,” O’Neill agreed. “Now, we must hurry up, and you enjoy your day off, okay?”
“Okay,” Liam said agreeably, although his face was pinched when his father and the colonel climbed into the latter’s car.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
O’Neill waved Calvin to the driver’s seat.
“I can drive if I have to,” he explained, “but the knee would thank you if I didn’t have to.”
“So… what happened?” Calvin asked, trying not to show how much he enjoyed the smooth running of the colonel’s car. Sure, he loved the geriatric Chevy, but there was something to say for a new and fast car.
“We have an incoming wormhole with no way to shut it down,” O’Neill summarized the problem for him with the endearing simplicity of the military mind.
Calvin shrugged. “Wait thirty-eight minutes, it will shut down on its own.”
“That was what we thought,” O’Neill replied. “That was six hours ago.”
“Oh!” Calvin had to force himself to keep his hands steady on the steering wheel. “That’s… unsettling. Is something coming through?”
“According to Carter… nothing.”
“Not even a radio signal?” Calvin insisted.
O’Neill shook his head. “Nope.”
“And the wormhole hasn’t collapsed after the usual thirty-eight minutes?” Calvin asked bewildered.
“No, it’s still open,” O’Neill replied.
“Could the guy on the other end of the connection redial our Gate repeatedly, just to keep us from using it?” Calvin thought loud, turning into the parking lot of the Mountain.
“Carter says she’s programmed the computer to dial the Alpha site right when the incoming wormhole expires; only that it simply hasn’t expired so far.”
“Okay, that is a problem,” Calvin agreed, as they walked towards the elevator. “But I don’t really understand what would you need me for. I’m not exactly an expert where the Stargate s considered.”
O’Neill shrugged. “Don’t look at me. It was Carter’s idea.”
Calvin found that flattering, but he wouldn’t show it, of course. They rode both elevators to Sublevel 28, where they found a somewhat irritated Major Carter in the Control Room, working at the terminals of the Stargate, with the help of that too-pretty Air Force lieutenant, Graham Simmons, who had a puppy-sized crash on her. At least according to medical personnel, and they were the best source of gossip under the Mountain. Perhaps it was the way to balance out the fact that they weren’t allowed to speak about so many things, due to doctor-patient confidentiality.
“Major,” Simmons was saying, right when they entered the room, “there’s a rise in power being retained b the Gate’s internal capacitors.”
“How much?” Carter asked, without taking her eyes from her own control screen.
Simmons re-checked his readings. “One per cent.”
“Could it be the usual fluctuations?” Calvin asked. He’d studied the powering system of the Stargate for comparative uses and become fairly familiar with the working of the Gate… on the regular level anyway.
“Dr. Kavanagh could be right,” Carter said, after a short nod and a ‘sir’ to greet O’Neill. “While there’s an open wormhole, the value does tend to fluctuate by at least that much.”
Lt, Simmons shook his head, eyes firmly set on the readings. “Not for the last twelve minutes, it hasn’t.”
Carter frowned. “That’s strange. Dr. Kavanagh, could you help us at Gate diagnostic screen four?”
“Sure,” Calvin felt a strange excitement, sitting there at the Gate controls - something he’d never done before. Which didn’t mean that he wouldn’t know what to do. He checked the diagnostics carefully. “Everything seems normal,” he reported. “No incoming energy readings.”
“Hmmm,” Carter thought for the moment, then she looked at Simmons. “We need to increase sensitivity.”
Simmons nodded. “Fifty per cent should do it.”
They both walked over to watch the diagnostic screen over Calvin’s shoulder. After Calvin had increased the sensitivity, a few blips appeared on the computer graphics. Carter frowned.
“Now that’s odd,” she commented.
Simmons shrugged. “Could it be interference between the Stargate and the computer?” he asked.
“It could,” Carter admitted. “But I still don’t like it. The fact that it keeps the Gate open makes me worry. That shouldn’t be possible… theoretically.”
“Unless someone has found a way to power up the gate on their side high enough,” Calvin commented. “Just because we can’t do it, it doesn’t mean than nobody else could. Especially someone with a technology light years beyond our understanding. See? There it is again.”
Carter nodded. “Right. Increase sensitivity by two hundred per cent.”
“Major, that’s well within the accepted margin of error for the sensors,” Simmons argued, wanting to impress his idol very much. Calvin withstood the urge to roll his eyes… barely.
“Not if it has anything to do with keeping the Gate open for unlimited times,” he replied, executing Carter’s order immediately. A whole pattern of blips appeared on the computer graphics.
“See?” Simmons said. “It’s a pretty small anomaly…”
“…which could be contributing to the power build-up in the Gate,” Calvin interrupted, getting truly impatient with the little fool.
Said little fool wasn’t willing to give up so easily, though, especially not with Carter listening. “Yes, but…”
Carter cut him short. “Errors are random, Lieutenant,” she pointed out evenly. “Whatever this is, it has a distinct pattern.”
Simmons nodded reluctantly. “Right…”
Carter thought for a moment. Calvin could almost see the little wheels spinning in her head.
“General Hammond needs to learn about this,” she finally decided, “but we should calculate the possible risks first, to give him a rough estimate of the danger it might mean. Dr. Kavanagh, Dr. Simpson and Dr. Petersen are waiting for you in your lab, and Dr. Loewen is on her way already. Can you take over the calculations while the Lieutenant and I will try to work on possible countermeasures?”
“Sure,” Calvin said and left for the lab.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Simpson and Petersen were already working on the problem when he arrived. He hadn’t seen Simpson since their arrival at the SGC, as she had been away a lot with Colonel Edwards’ team; and besides, they were assigned to different projects. He was glad that she was here right now, though. She was brilliant and very level-headed, plus she had a keen, analytic mind, even though the stupid military thinking that it’s acceptable to risk the lives of the many in order to save one person in need was fairly indoctrinated in that otherwise smart head of hers. But that was to be expected. She was an Army brat, after all.
“So, what’s with the energy build-up within the Gate?” Calvin asked as a way of greeting when he joined them.
“It seems to be transmitted through the incoming wormhole,” Petersen replied. “It’s slow, but the cumulative effect makes me a bit concerned.”
“Why didn’t we notice it earlier?” Simpson asked. “The Gate has been open for what? Six hours?”
“Six hours twenty-seven minutes,” Petersen replied in a distracted manner. “You forget that our sensors aren’t calibrated to measure something so small.”
“Which might probe a fatal mistake,” Calvin added grimly. “Is the iris still holding?”
Petersen glanced at one of the screens that was connected to the Control Room. “It seems so. It’s probably even slowing the energy transfer down, but it won’t stop it. Just like at the time when Sokar tried to extract Apophis from us.”
“That’s bad,” Calvin said.
Simpson nodded. “Yeah, it is. The Gate can absorb huge amounts of energy - like some sort of giant superconductor - but even its capacity will be exceeded eventually, and if the naquadah of which it’s made up becomes charged…”
“…it will explode,” Calvin finished.
“That about sums it up,” Petersen agreed. “By the current rate of energy build-up we can count on the big bang in a couple of days… if we’re very lucky.”
“And we are talking about a blast… how strong exactly?” Simpson eyed the calculations again.
“Two or three thousand megatons,” Calvin said. “That would be enough to take out Colorado.” He made a mental note to call Patrick in the first unobserved moment and tell him to get their family the hell out of the state. To visit Dion in LA. Or even the Reverend, if there’s no other way. Whatever. He wasn’t certain that the military would allow him to get his family to safety if he asked first. They were all big on secrets and such. But he was not risking the lives of Siobhan and the boys. If they wanted to shoot him afterwards, it was fine with him.
Assuming that there would be an afterwards, which seemed rather unlikely at the moment.
Petersen was already calling Major Carter to tell her the bad news. This was going to be a long shift.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Needless to say that General Hammond was not happy to hear about this new disaster coming their way. He’d had enough with Colonel Chekov breathing down his neck anyway, the Russians insisting on having one of their officers assigned to SG-1 ‘as a symbol of their joint efforts’. Colonel O’Neill had stubbornly resisted so far, but considering that nine candidates had already failed to replace Dr. Jackson - and tat he’d not even consider Jonas Quinn as a suitable candidate - he was running out of options.
In a way, the general was almost grateful for the disaster, as it allowed him to ignore the Russian demands for a while and focus on a problem that actually counted. Unfortunately, it was also a problem that could kill them all.
In the meantime, the energy build-up has reached eighteen per cent, and every attempt to drain the capacitors had failed. Cutting the power to the Gate wouldn’t have done any good, since incoming wormholes drew their energy from the off-world source, and whoever was on the other end of this particular connection, they seemed to have an unlimited energy source at their disposal. They couldn’t use the Russian Gate either, to evacuate to the Alpha site, because one couldn’t dial out of another Gate when there was already an established incoming wormhole to Earth, as Sergeant Siler had pointed out to one of the newbie technicians.
The situation was fairly hopeless, and Calvin hadn’t got the chance to call his family and persuade them to flee back to California, because General Hammond had ordered full ‘radio silence’, as he called it. Which meant that no phone calls were allowed to go out, and all lines save the ones to Area 51 and to the President were blocked.
That order had made Calvin quite mad. He didn’t buy the excuse of having a full-blown panic on their hands, would SGC families suddenly leave town. Firstly, not so many of the SGC employees had families to begin with… or had them in Colorado Springs. Secondly, they were civilians. None of them had sworn an oath to die alongside the military, should something ugly happen. And thirdly, he simply didn’t care. He’d accepted that he might die when things went wrong, but the deaths of his sister and his boys had not been part of the agreement.
Yet there was nothing he could do, and further calculations came up with the depressing results that Colorado wouldn’t be the only place to be destroyed if the Stargate exploded. In fact, they were about to face a planetwide disaster; it seemed there would be no safe place on Earth to go.
And as if that fact alone wouldn’t have been enough to ruin everybody’s day, in the middle of the feverish search for a solution - any solution! - Rodney McKay strolled into the Control Room, making one of his stupid, sexist remarks.
Calvin, who’d come up from the lab to consult Sergeant Siler about a potential method to drain the capacitors - a vague idea Chloe Loewen had presented - groaned in unison with Carter at the sight. The major glared at McKay with all the love one would display towards a poisonous beetle.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
McKay gave her a smile that, coming from him, counted as positively disarming. “Well, there’s no point in building naquadah generators for Russia if there isn’t going to be a Russia, is there?” he answered nonchalantly. “The Pentagon thought you… uh… might need some help.”
If possible, Carter’s eyes turned even colder; glacial would have been the right description. “Not from you, she declared coldly.
McKay shrugged. “Oh, all right. Well, then, I’ll get a coffee and a doughnut and just sit there, waiting for the big bang. I’m sure it will be spectacular.” With that, he sauntered out.
“Just what we needed,” Calvin said to Siler, and the Sergeant nodded in grave agreement.
“My thoughts exactly, Doctor.”
At the same moment, Chief Master Sergeant Harriman handed Carter a headset. “Major… Dr. Murphy for you.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“So, what did that idiot Murphy want from Major Carter?” Petersen, not exactly a fan of Area 51’s head scientist, asked dubiously. The team was having a coffee break in the kitchenette of the lab, and they had invited Jonas Quinn, who, not having any particular task assigned to him, was known to learn just about everything that was going in under the Mountain in record time.
“He told the major that he could have the X-302 ready in two hours,” Jonas replied, “so that someone might leave Earth and get some help from the Asgard.”
“I thought it was weeks away from flight test,” Calvin said with a frown.
Jonas nodded. “That was what Dr. Murphy had said when we visited Area 51 a few days ago. But all preliminary indications seem to look good, and it’s the only chance to contact the Asgard and ask for help. Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter have volunteered for the mission - they may be on their way to Area 51 already.”
Calvin exchanged a look with Petersen, then with Chloe, and all three shook their heads in unison.
“It’s not going to work,” Petersen stated.
Jonas gave him a concerned look. “You think so?”
“He’s right,” Calvin said. “The instability of the naquadria increases exponentially as you attempt to extract more energy out of it.”
“Are you sure?” Jonas asked. I’ve studied all the Goa’uld research done on naquadria, and Major Carter allowed me to see the specifications on the X-302 - there was no true reason for concern.”
“Let me show you,” Chloe took the notebook from him and eyed it quickly. Then she fished a text marker out of the breast pocket of her lab coat and highlighted some of the complicated equations. “I know you’re no scientist, but since you’re familiar with the research material, you won’t need anything else but a little common sense.”
Jonas scanned the equations quickly - and blanched. “We must show this General Hammond,” he said.
Calvin pulled a face. “We’ve been trying to do that for months. But apparently, military mindset and common sense don’t go along very well.”
“But we must do something!” Jonas insisted.
Chloe shrugged, which did amazing things to certain parts of her anatomy. “We could try to hush McKay at the general.”
“And that would help us how exactly?” Petersen asked sarcastically. “He’s not even a member of the SGC.”
“But he’s annoying enough to be listened to, no matter what,” Chloe pointed out.
“True,” Peterson said after a moment of consideration. “But how on Earth can we talk him into helping us. He knows we despise him, and frankly, the feeling is mutual.”
“He doesn’t know Jonas,” Chloe suggested. “He might listen to Jonas’ arguments, because Jonas is the one who’s brought us the naquadria in the first place.”
Calvin and Petersen looked at each other a bit uncertainly; then the Danish scientist shrugged.
“It’s worth a try… The best thing would be to get both McKay and the general to listen to your arguments, but I guess we could call ourselves lucky if we get the ear of one of them.”
“How am I supposed to do this?” Jonas asked.
“Just go straight to either McKay or the general and tell them,” Petersen said. “Neither of them has a clue about subtlety.”
“Right,” Jonas murmured, clearly having doubts about the whole thing. “Just jump down their throats with the bad news. That will work like a charm.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Twenty minutes later Jonas returned to the lab. A look at his face spoke clearly about the outcome of his mission.
“They didn’t listen,” Calvin said. It was not a question. Nor was it a surprise, to be honest.
“They didn’t,” Jonas answered with a sigh. “That is, Dr. McKay did, he even agreed with you - but the general told us that the X-302 is our only chance to get help from the outside, so we should all shut up and cross our fingers… do your people really do that for luck?”
“Typical,” Calvin said sourly, ignoring Jonas’ last question. “Why think when you can act?”
“Well, thinking hasn’t gotten us any further, so far,” Simpson countered, feeling that she ought to defend the military, out of family obligation. Let’s hope that we’re wrong and have been worrying for nothing.”
“We’re not wrong,” Petersen said, emphasizing the negation.
“The simulations Major Carter and Dr. Murphy ran anticipated every conceivable scenario,” Simpson, who’d a much better opinion about the Area 51 scientist (they’d worked together for two years, after all) argued.
“That depends on what they’ve considered conceivable,” Calvin retorted. “What if we’ve found one they had not thought of at all?”
Simpson shook her head. “The X-302 has hundreds of safety mechanisms to compensate for anything that can go wrong. It’s the finest piece of human engineering that…”
Calvin interrupted her. “You’re missing the point, Simpson. I’ve studied the schematics since I got here. There’s nothing wrong with the structure of the X-302. It’s the propulsion system that is faulty. If it’s capable of opening a hyperspace window to begin with, it’s highly unlikely that it will be able to lock on its destination.”
“And that would happen, in your expert opinion, why exactly?” Simpson demanded.
“I don’t think that the energy fluctuations emitted by the naquadria would allow establishing a stable hyperspace window,” Calvin replied.
“They won’t,” Jonas said quietly.
“And why haven’t you come up with this before?” Simpson asked accusingly.
“We have,” Petersen replied, “but Major Carter thought they could compensate for the fluctuations.”
“Which, if the latest technical data are correct, they could not,” Chloe Loewen added.
“So, what are we going to do now?” Jonas asked. “Cross our fingers as the general suggested and hope for the best?”
“No,” Petersen said. “You’ll go back to the Control Room and wait for news about the X-302. We’ll keep trying to find a way to drain the Gate capacitors and get the military more time to find another way to contact the Asgard.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A depressingly short time later it turned out that they had been right about the X-302. Although its hyperspace generator had been able to open a window, but once it was established, master alarms had gone off at once, and the vessel, unable to lock on its destination, auto-aborted. It was one of the built-in safety measures, and it had saved the lives of Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter, who’d have probably been torn to peaces otherwise - or, as Dr. McKay had suggested, transported to an unknown location with limited fuel, oxygen and no way of getting back - but that still left them with no way to get any help from the outside.
“Can this problem be resolved?” General Hammond asked on the briefing, to which, in a sudden attack of insight - or despair - he’d invited all the scientists currently working on the problem.
Carter shrugged uncertainly. “Sir, we don’t even understand why the problem exists, yet.”
“You’re lucky,” McKay commented. “There’s no telling how much damage an unstable hyperspace window could have caused.”
Carter smiled at him in a way that made Calvin shiver… and not with pleasure. He couldn’t blame her, though. The urge to throttle McKay was rising steadily in him, too.
General Hammond ignored the little display between the scientists. “So, the bottom line is, we’re on our own,” he summarized glumly.
Carter nodded. “Afraid so, sir.”
As if emphasizing her words, the briefing room suddenly darkened, and alarms started going off. Hammond pushed the intercom button.
“Report!” he demanded.
“We’re experiencing a wide-spread loss of power, sir,” the voice of Chief Master Sergeant Harriman replied. “Switching to auxiliary power… now.”
The lights returned, but the alarms kept sounding. Carter looked at her fellow scientists, and then she began to run to the Gate Room. The others, including Colonel O’Neill, followed.
Part 2
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Stargate - Atlantis
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the secondary index page.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
EPISODE 01 - REDEMPTION
Author’s note:
I always found it a little unlikely that Jonas Quinn alone would have discovered the instability of the naquadria. He wasn’t even a scientist, for God’s sake! So I chose to make said discovery a little more believable.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Somewhen during the last two - no, almost three - months Dr. Calvin Thomas Kavanagh had come to the realization that he liked life in Colorado Springs a lot. Sure, working under the Cheyenne Mountain was like life in a high-tech bunker from some really cheesy sci-fi movie, and the fact that he couldn’t tell about his real work anyone sucked. In exchange, however, he got a paycheck he couldn’t have even dreamed of anywhere else, had a nice house for his patchwork family to live in, and the work itself was exciting and inspiring.
He liked working with Dr. Petersen and Dr. Loewen. Their fields were close enough, and Petersen had a warped, sarcastic sense of humour that matched Calvin’s own very well. They also shared a deep dislike for a certain Rodney McKay, and that was an unbreakable bond among all scientists that had ever been exposed to the Canadian’s ego. Even Chloe Loewen agreed with them. Being a blonde, she’d been the suffering object of McKay’s chauvinistic jokes about dumb blondes too often to not take offence.
Actually, Calvin and Chloe shared more than work and their hatred for McKay. Chloe was Swedish, and like all Scandinavians, she had a much more… relaxed attitude towards casual sex. She knew what she wanted, and having an actual relationship wasn’t one of those things. Her work was more important for her, at least for the time being. But from time to time, she had an itch that needed to be scratched, and Calvin was more than willing to do her the favour. He had his own itches, considering that he’d been alone since his divorce, and the arrangement worked well enough for both of them.
Sure, he did feel lonely sometimes (at the rare occasion when he had the time to think about such things). He missed the true intimacy that casual sex could never give: the small things one only shared in an established relationship. Like waking up next to someone who was actually important for him as a person. Or to do small domestic task together. Or just sit in companionable silence and relax in the presence of a person who would care.
But one couldn’t have everything, and all things considered, he was fairly content with his life. Besides, this was not the right time to start pursuing a new relationship. His children had just begun to get used to their new surroundings and were about to get over their clinging phase. He could not risk their fragile emotional stability. Not now, not for a while yet, it seemed. So, the casual on/off thing with Chloe was the best solution for the moment. At least it offered them both a good outlet for their pent-up sexual frustration, without any strings attached. It was an honest and satisfying arrangement - for now.
The family had taken the move across the country well enough. Now that she wasn’t forced to labour in the K-Mart long hours for a miserable paycheck, Siobhan had practically come to a late bloom. Sure, she was still painfully thin and would probably remain that way - all Kavanaghs tended to slim builds - but the thin lines of concern that had been etched into her face or so long were slowly fading away, and she smiled a lot more than before, which made her look as pretty as she used to be as a young girl. She enjoyed her new life as a housewife very much, and she had become good friends with Colonel Dixon’s overworked little wife, Glenda, in no time.
That fact made Calvin particularly glad. With Patrick finally having found a job as a construction worker and himself working long hours in the lab, Siobhan would have grown lonely, all on her own, while the kids were at school. And Mrs Dixon wasn’t only a mother of four, she also had a degree in education and could be very helpful when Siobhan ran into problems with Liam or Tommy. The three sons of the Dixons, aged between seven and thirteen, accepted Liam without much ado, while Una Leonie, their golden little princess of five, seemed to have taken a liking to Tommy, who apparently returned the feeling with the same ardour.
The adjustment to the new school had been a little bumpy at first, despite the truly idyllic surroundings. Canon Elementary had been built on a former wildlife refugee site and had playgrounds near the Cheyenne Creek, so that the children could see birds and squirrels while playing. Asking for the advice of Dr. Janet Fraiser, Calvin had chosen this particular school for his kids because it offered support courses for the gifted as well as special education for those who needed extra help. He didn’t want to take his sons to different schools. They both needed the reassurance of the other’s presence, after all the sudden changes in their lives.
After a thorough discussion with Ms Struble, the school principal, Calvin had decided to enrol Liam into the second grade class, only one year above his actual age, so that he’d be with kids who weren’t years older than him - or twice his size. To keep his boy’s overactive mind occupied, Calvin had also enrolled him into science and computer courses for young children, and as Liam didn’t show any interest for sports, being a small, fragile child for his almost seven years, he was allowed to take an extra art class.
After the first minor conflicts (more with the other kids than with the teachers, fortunately) even Liam, who’d had serious problems with female persons of authority, ever since his mother had kidnapped him, calmed down and began to develop a tentative trust toward his male class teacher, Sean Rhames. At Canon Elementary, all classes had two teachers, and while Calvin personally found Liam’s other teacher, Ms Burkhardt, a very likeable lady, he was glad that the boy had a male authority person at hand. Due to his traumatic experiences, Liam found it much easier to trust men. Later on, that might bring up new problems, but right now, the presence of a male teacher helped things considerably.
As for Tommy, he seemed to have fallen instantly in love with one of his kindergarten teachers. Ms McCormack was a quirky little redhead in her mid-thirties, small of stature but great of heart; an always delighted person who could tell the most exciting stories off the top of her head and knew the funniest games. Calvin learned later that she was also a well known author of children’s books who chose to work with children instead just write for them.
So, the kids were well off, Siobhan was happy, and with Patrick having a job again and Calvin himself getting the handsome paycheck for the third time already, the Kavanagh clan settled well enough in Colorado Springs. For the first time in their lives, they had no serious financial problems, and even though the long-overdue new car would still have to wait at least half a year (or longer), they began to breathe easier.
Of course, Murphy’s Law chose that very moment to come to full effect again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Theoretically, it would have been Calvin’s second day off. He’d been moonlighting a great deal during the last two weeks, working on a solution that would eventually replace naquadria with liquid naquadah in the propulsion system of the X-302, the first human-made ship that was capable of interstellar travel - or so its creators hoped The ship had just recently been completed in Area 51, and was nearly ready for test flights. Nobody cold foretell whether its systems would truly work. They had been developed by retro-engineering Goa’uld technology but not yet been tested under real conditions.
For his part, Calvin had serious doubts about the naquadria’s usefulness. The dratted element was just too unstable for his comfort. Willem Petersen shared his doubts, which was why they worked so hard with the liquid naquadah, and so did several other engineers But the military wanted results - preferably yesterday - and people like Dr. Larry Murphy were stupid (or irresponsible) enough to press forward and to promise quick results, regardless of the possible consequences.
Having finished the next series of tests with liquid naquadah - tests that yielded satisfactory results - project leader Dr. Bill Lee had ordered both Petersen and Calvin to take two days free, as an exchange for all the late hours they’d spent in the lab. Calvin welcomed the order as Liam’s birthday happened to be on his first day off. They had a surprise party in the afternoon, with all the Dixon kids and Dr. Fraiser’s teenaged daughter visiting, a barbecue in the garden, a big cake for the birthday id and lots of fun. Jonas Quinn had cooked up for some Kelownan speciality, which turned out surprisingly good, Smithy came to help fastening the brand new basketball ring on the side of the house, and even Colonel O’Neill dropped in for a short visit, gifting a basketball glove upon Liam, who’d never use it but was happy with it nonetheless.
Right after coming to Colorado Springs, Calvin had been surprised by Colonel O’Neill’s interest in his family. Granted, they were almost neighbours, but the colonel wasn’t generally known as getting all friendly with the civilians (unlike Dixon), and Calvin didn’t even work under his command. It had been a month or so later that Calvin learned from Dr. Fraiser how tragically O’Neill had lost his own son, and that the Kavanagh kids, being all blue-eyed blonds, perhaps reminded him of Charlie. Whatever the reason might be, the boys soon became very fond of ‘Colonel Jack’, as Liam called him, despite his futile attempts to make them interested in sports.
The birthday party lasted really late in the night, so Calvin decided to excuse his sons from school on the net day and let them sleep in as long as they wanted. The Reverend would never have condoned such blatant violation of one’s duties, even if the person of question was barely seven. But although Calvin took duty - and especially the education of his kids - very seriously, he didn’t see things quite so narrowly as his father.
“I thought we could go to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in the afternoon,” he said to Siobhan over their first cp of coffee in the kitchen. “We haven’t seen much of Colorado Springs since we moved here, and both kids are interested in animals. We can download the zoo map from the Internet and print out a copy for everyone. We could have lunch in the Safari Café there, and pick up Patrick from the construction site afterwards and come home together.”
Siobhan gave the huge pile of dirty dishes from the pervious night a disheartened look. “I’d love to, but…”
“I’ll help you wash the dishes,” Calvin offered. “In any case, we should buy a dishwasher, soon.”
“That’s not necessary,” Siobhan replied. “We don’t always have so many dirty dishes. Besides, you need a new car before the Chevy falls to pieces under you.”
“I like the Chevy,” Calvin said stubbornly. “And a new car is more than what we could afford right now. We can afford the dishwasher, though.”
“Not if you ever want a new car,” his sister answered, and they both laughed.
In that very moment, the phone rung. Calvin picked it up, expecting the worst. “Kavanagh.”
“Siler,” the voice of the somewhat accident-prone technical sergeant of the SGC answered. “You’re needed in the Mountain, sir. ASAP.”
“Actually,” Calvin said, “I have the day off.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Siler answered, “but this is a Code Red alert. All personnel of the engineering department are being called in.”
“I see,” Calvin said, suddenly eerily calm. Code Red was bad, very bad. “I’ll need a lift, then. My family uses the car in the afternoon.”
“That won’t be a problem sir,” Siler replied. “Colonel O’Neil has offered to pick you up on his way in.”
“O’Neill?” Calvin frowned. “But he’s got a partially torn ligament in his knee… could barely limp around yesterday.”
“He declared that he didn’t have the time for ‘such nonsense’, and that a bandage would do the trick. You can expect him in twenty,” and with that, Siler hung up.
Siobhan watched her brother with concerned eyes. “You need to go back to the Mountain?”
Calvin nodded worriedly. “It seems then can’t go on for two days in a row without me. Liam will be very disappointed.”
“I can tell him,” Siobhan offered, but Calvin shook his head.
“No, I’ll do it. He always accepts unpleasant news easier when they come from me.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Liam was indeed not very happy about the loss of family time, but, precocious child as he was, he understood that his Papa sometimes just had to go back to work. Besides, he was happy to see ‘Colonel Jack’ again, and so soon. The sympathy between them was mutual.
“I’m sorry I have to take your Papa with me,” like everyone else, O’Neill had also learned quickly not to refer to the Kavanagh kids’ father as their Dad. For reasons only the family knew, they didn’t like it. “But the other scientists in the lab need his help.”
The boy looked up to him with too-serious cornflower-blue eyes, and Calvin’s heart contorted for a moment, wishing that his son could be as careless as other children of his age, even though he knew that would never happen. Never again. Lost innocence could never be regained.
In such moments he could have cheerfully murdered his ex-wife.
“I know,” Liam replied to O’Neill earnestly. “Papa is very, very good. Dr. Lou said he’s even better than Dr. Willem.”
“Well, if he says so, it must be true,” O’Neill said, easily recognizing behind the nicknames Balinsky from SG-13 and Petersen, with whom the boy’s father shared a lab.
“How long must Papa be gone?” Liam asked anxiously.
“Honestly, I can’t tell,” O’Neill replied. “But I promise to bring him back as soon as possible. You know I always keep my promises, right?”
Liam nodded. “Because of Charlie,” he said.
“Because of Charlie,” O’Neill agreed. “Now, we must hurry up, and you enjoy your day off, okay?”
“Okay,” Liam said agreeably, although his face was pinched when his father and the colonel climbed into the latter’s car.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
O’Neill waved Calvin to the driver’s seat.
“I can drive if I have to,” he explained, “but the knee would thank you if I didn’t have to.”
“So… what happened?” Calvin asked, trying not to show how much he enjoyed the smooth running of the colonel’s car. Sure, he loved the geriatric Chevy, but there was something to say for a new and fast car.
“We have an incoming wormhole with no way to shut it down,” O’Neill summarized the problem for him with the endearing simplicity of the military mind.
Calvin shrugged. “Wait thirty-eight minutes, it will shut down on its own.”
“That was what we thought,” O’Neill replied. “That was six hours ago.”
“Oh!” Calvin had to force himself to keep his hands steady on the steering wheel. “That’s… unsettling. Is something coming through?”
“According to Carter… nothing.”
“Not even a radio signal?” Calvin insisted.
O’Neill shook his head. “Nope.”
“And the wormhole hasn’t collapsed after the usual thirty-eight minutes?” Calvin asked bewildered.
“No, it’s still open,” O’Neill replied.
“Could the guy on the other end of the connection redial our Gate repeatedly, just to keep us from using it?” Calvin thought loud, turning into the parking lot of the Mountain.
“Carter says she’s programmed the computer to dial the Alpha site right when the incoming wormhole expires; only that it simply hasn’t expired so far.”
“Okay, that is a problem,” Calvin agreed, as they walked towards the elevator. “But I don’t really understand what would you need me for. I’m not exactly an expert where the Stargate s considered.”
O’Neill shrugged. “Don’t look at me. It was Carter’s idea.”
Calvin found that flattering, but he wouldn’t show it, of course. They rode both elevators to Sublevel 28, where they found a somewhat irritated Major Carter in the Control Room, working at the terminals of the Stargate, with the help of that too-pretty Air Force lieutenant, Graham Simmons, who had a puppy-sized crash on her. At least according to medical personnel, and they were the best source of gossip under the Mountain. Perhaps it was the way to balance out the fact that they weren’t allowed to speak about so many things, due to doctor-patient confidentiality.
“Major,” Simmons was saying, right when they entered the room, “there’s a rise in power being retained b the Gate’s internal capacitors.”
“How much?” Carter asked, without taking her eyes from her own control screen.
Simmons re-checked his readings. “One per cent.”
“Could it be the usual fluctuations?” Calvin asked. He’d studied the powering system of the Stargate for comparative uses and become fairly familiar with the working of the Gate… on the regular level anyway.
“Dr. Kavanagh could be right,” Carter said, after a short nod and a ‘sir’ to greet O’Neill. “While there’s an open wormhole, the value does tend to fluctuate by at least that much.”
Lt, Simmons shook his head, eyes firmly set on the readings. “Not for the last twelve minutes, it hasn’t.”
Carter frowned. “That’s strange. Dr. Kavanagh, could you help us at Gate diagnostic screen four?”
“Sure,” Calvin felt a strange excitement, sitting there at the Gate controls - something he’d never done before. Which didn’t mean that he wouldn’t know what to do. He checked the diagnostics carefully. “Everything seems normal,” he reported. “No incoming energy readings.”
“Hmmm,” Carter thought for the moment, then she looked at Simmons. “We need to increase sensitivity.”
Simmons nodded. “Fifty per cent should do it.”
They both walked over to watch the diagnostic screen over Calvin’s shoulder. After Calvin had increased the sensitivity, a few blips appeared on the computer graphics. Carter frowned.
“Now that’s odd,” she commented.
Simmons shrugged. “Could it be interference between the Stargate and the computer?” he asked.
“It could,” Carter admitted. “But I still don’t like it. The fact that it keeps the Gate open makes me worry. That shouldn’t be possible… theoretically.”
“Unless someone has found a way to power up the gate on their side high enough,” Calvin commented. “Just because we can’t do it, it doesn’t mean than nobody else could. Especially someone with a technology light years beyond our understanding. See? There it is again.”
Carter nodded. “Right. Increase sensitivity by two hundred per cent.”
“Major, that’s well within the accepted margin of error for the sensors,” Simmons argued, wanting to impress his idol very much. Calvin withstood the urge to roll his eyes… barely.
“Not if it has anything to do with keeping the Gate open for unlimited times,” he replied, executing Carter’s order immediately. A whole pattern of blips appeared on the computer graphics.
“See?” Simmons said. “It’s a pretty small anomaly…”
“…which could be contributing to the power build-up in the Gate,” Calvin interrupted, getting truly impatient with the little fool.
Said little fool wasn’t willing to give up so easily, though, especially not with Carter listening. “Yes, but…”
Carter cut him short. “Errors are random, Lieutenant,” she pointed out evenly. “Whatever this is, it has a distinct pattern.”
Simmons nodded reluctantly. “Right…”
Carter thought for a moment. Calvin could almost see the little wheels spinning in her head.
“General Hammond needs to learn about this,” she finally decided, “but we should calculate the possible risks first, to give him a rough estimate of the danger it might mean. Dr. Kavanagh, Dr. Simpson and Dr. Petersen are waiting for you in your lab, and Dr. Loewen is on her way already. Can you take over the calculations while the Lieutenant and I will try to work on possible countermeasures?”
“Sure,” Calvin said and left for the lab.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Simpson and Petersen were already working on the problem when he arrived. He hadn’t seen Simpson since their arrival at the SGC, as she had been away a lot with Colonel Edwards’ team; and besides, they were assigned to different projects. He was glad that she was here right now, though. She was brilliant and very level-headed, plus she had a keen, analytic mind, even though the stupid military thinking that it’s acceptable to risk the lives of the many in order to save one person in need was fairly indoctrinated in that otherwise smart head of hers. But that was to be expected. She was an Army brat, after all.
“So, what’s with the energy build-up within the Gate?” Calvin asked as a way of greeting when he joined them.
“It seems to be transmitted through the incoming wormhole,” Petersen replied. “It’s slow, but the cumulative effect makes me a bit concerned.”
“Why didn’t we notice it earlier?” Simpson asked. “The Gate has been open for what? Six hours?”
“Six hours twenty-seven minutes,” Petersen replied in a distracted manner. “You forget that our sensors aren’t calibrated to measure something so small.”
“Which might probe a fatal mistake,” Calvin added grimly. “Is the iris still holding?”
Petersen glanced at one of the screens that was connected to the Control Room. “It seems so. It’s probably even slowing the energy transfer down, but it won’t stop it. Just like at the time when Sokar tried to extract Apophis from us.”
“That’s bad,” Calvin said.
Simpson nodded. “Yeah, it is. The Gate can absorb huge amounts of energy - like some sort of giant superconductor - but even its capacity will be exceeded eventually, and if the naquadah of which it’s made up becomes charged…”
“…it will explode,” Calvin finished.
“That about sums it up,” Petersen agreed. “By the current rate of energy build-up we can count on the big bang in a couple of days… if we’re very lucky.”
“And we are talking about a blast… how strong exactly?” Simpson eyed the calculations again.
“Two or three thousand megatons,” Calvin said. “That would be enough to take out Colorado.” He made a mental note to call Patrick in the first unobserved moment and tell him to get their family the hell out of the state. To visit Dion in LA. Or even the Reverend, if there’s no other way. Whatever. He wasn’t certain that the military would allow him to get his family to safety if he asked first. They were all big on secrets and such. But he was not risking the lives of Siobhan and the boys. If they wanted to shoot him afterwards, it was fine with him.
Assuming that there would be an afterwards, which seemed rather unlikely at the moment.
Petersen was already calling Major Carter to tell her the bad news. This was going to be a long shift.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Needless to say that General Hammond was not happy to hear about this new disaster coming their way. He’d had enough with Colonel Chekov breathing down his neck anyway, the Russians insisting on having one of their officers assigned to SG-1 ‘as a symbol of their joint efforts’. Colonel O’Neill had stubbornly resisted so far, but considering that nine candidates had already failed to replace Dr. Jackson - and tat he’d not even consider Jonas Quinn as a suitable candidate - he was running out of options.
In a way, the general was almost grateful for the disaster, as it allowed him to ignore the Russian demands for a while and focus on a problem that actually counted. Unfortunately, it was also a problem that could kill them all.
In the meantime, the energy build-up has reached eighteen per cent, and every attempt to drain the capacitors had failed. Cutting the power to the Gate wouldn’t have done any good, since incoming wormholes drew their energy from the off-world source, and whoever was on the other end of this particular connection, they seemed to have an unlimited energy source at their disposal. They couldn’t use the Russian Gate either, to evacuate to the Alpha site, because one couldn’t dial out of another Gate when there was already an established incoming wormhole to Earth, as Sergeant Siler had pointed out to one of the newbie technicians.
The situation was fairly hopeless, and Calvin hadn’t got the chance to call his family and persuade them to flee back to California, because General Hammond had ordered full ‘radio silence’, as he called it. Which meant that no phone calls were allowed to go out, and all lines save the ones to Area 51 and to the President were blocked.
That order had made Calvin quite mad. He didn’t buy the excuse of having a full-blown panic on their hands, would SGC families suddenly leave town. Firstly, not so many of the SGC employees had families to begin with… or had them in Colorado Springs. Secondly, they were civilians. None of them had sworn an oath to die alongside the military, should something ugly happen. And thirdly, he simply didn’t care. He’d accepted that he might die when things went wrong, but the deaths of his sister and his boys had not been part of the agreement.
Yet there was nothing he could do, and further calculations came up with the depressing results that Colorado wouldn’t be the only place to be destroyed if the Stargate exploded. In fact, they were about to face a planetwide disaster; it seemed there would be no safe place on Earth to go.
And as if that fact alone wouldn’t have been enough to ruin everybody’s day, in the middle of the feverish search for a solution - any solution! - Rodney McKay strolled into the Control Room, making one of his stupid, sexist remarks.
Calvin, who’d come up from the lab to consult Sergeant Siler about a potential method to drain the capacitors - a vague idea Chloe Loewen had presented - groaned in unison with Carter at the sight. The major glared at McKay with all the love one would display towards a poisonous beetle.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
McKay gave her a smile that, coming from him, counted as positively disarming. “Well, there’s no point in building naquadah generators for Russia if there isn’t going to be a Russia, is there?” he answered nonchalantly. “The Pentagon thought you… uh… might need some help.”
If possible, Carter’s eyes turned even colder; glacial would have been the right description. “Not from you, she declared coldly.
McKay shrugged. “Oh, all right. Well, then, I’ll get a coffee and a doughnut and just sit there, waiting for the big bang. I’m sure it will be spectacular.” With that, he sauntered out.
“Just what we needed,” Calvin said to Siler, and the Sergeant nodded in grave agreement.
“My thoughts exactly, Doctor.”
At the same moment, Chief Master Sergeant Harriman handed Carter a headset. “Major… Dr. Murphy for you.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“So, what did that idiot Murphy want from Major Carter?” Petersen, not exactly a fan of Area 51’s head scientist, asked dubiously. The team was having a coffee break in the kitchenette of the lab, and they had invited Jonas Quinn, who, not having any particular task assigned to him, was known to learn just about everything that was going in under the Mountain in record time.
“He told the major that he could have the X-302 ready in two hours,” Jonas replied, “so that someone might leave Earth and get some help from the Asgard.”
“I thought it was weeks away from flight test,” Calvin said with a frown.
Jonas nodded. “That was what Dr. Murphy had said when we visited Area 51 a few days ago. But all preliminary indications seem to look good, and it’s the only chance to contact the Asgard and ask for help. Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter have volunteered for the mission - they may be on their way to Area 51 already.”
Calvin exchanged a look with Petersen, then with Chloe, and all three shook their heads in unison.
“It’s not going to work,” Petersen stated.
Jonas gave him a concerned look. “You think so?”
“He’s right,” Calvin said. “The instability of the naquadria increases exponentially as you attempt to extract more energy out of it.”
“Are you sure?” Jonas asked. I’ve studied all the Goa’uld research done on naquadria, and Major Carter allowed me to see the specifications on the X-302 - there was no true reason for concern.”
“Let me show you,” Chloe took the notebook from him and eyed it quickly. Then she fished a text marker out of the breast pocket of her lab coat and highlighted some of the complicated equations. “I know you’re no scientist, but since you’re familiar with the research material, you won’t need anything else but a little common sense.”
Jonas scanned the equations quickly - and blanched. “We must show this General Hammond,” he said.
Calvin pulled a face. “We’ve been trying to do that for months. But apparently, military mindset and common sense don’t go along very well.”
“But we must do something!” Jonas insisted.
Chloe shrugged, which did amazing things to certain parts of her anatomy. “We could try to hush McKay at the general.”
“And that would help us how exactly?” Petersen asked sarcastically. “He’s not even a member of the SGC.”
“But he’s annoying enough to be listened to, no matter what,” Chloe pointed out.
“True,” Peterson said after a moment of consideration. “But how on Earth can we talk him into helping us. He knows we despise him, and frankly, the feeling is mutual.”
“He doesn’t know Jonas,” Chloe suggested. “He might listen to Jonas’ arguments, because Jonas is the one who’s brought us the naquadria in the first place.”
Calvin and Petersen looked at each other a bit uncertainly; then the Danish scientist shrugged.
“It’s worth a try… The best thing would be to get both McKay and the general to listen to your arguments, but I guess we could call ourselves lucky if we get the ear of one of them.”
“How am I supposed to do this?” Jonas asked.
“Just go straight to either McKay or the general and tell them,” Petersen said. “Neither of them has a clue about subtlety.”
“Right,” Jonas murmured, clearly having doubts about the whole thing. “Just jump down their throats with the bad news. That will work like a charm.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Twenty minutes later Jonas returned to the lab. A look at his face spoke clearly about the outcome of his mission.
“They didn’t listen,” Calvin said. It was not a question. Nor was it a surprise, to be honest.
“They didn’t,” Jonas answered with a sigh. “That is, Dr. McKay did, he even agreed with you - but the general told us that the X-302 is our only chance to get help from the outside, so we should all shut up and cross our fingers… do your people really do that for luck?”
“Typical,” Calvin said sourly, ignoring Jonas’ last question. “Why think when you can act?”
“Well, thinking hasn’t gotten us any further, so far,” Simpson countered, feeling that she ought to defend the military, out of family obligation. Let’s hope that we’re wrong and have been worrying for nothing.”
“We’re not wrong,” Petersen said, emphasizing the negation.
“The simulations Major Carter and Dr. Murphy ran anticipated every conceivable scenario,” Simpson, who’d a much better opinion about the Area 51 scientist (they’d worked together for two years, after all) argued.
“That depends on what they’ve considered conceivable,” Calvin retorted. “What if we’ve found one they had not thought of at all?”
Simpson shook her head. “The X-302 has hundreds of safety mechanisms to compensate for anything that can go wrong. It’s the finest piece of human engineering that…”
Calvin interrupted her. “You’re missing the point, Simpson. I’ve studied the schematics since I got here. There’s nothing wrong with the structure of the X-302. It’s the propulsion system that is faulty. If it’s capable of opening a hyperspace window to begin with, it’s highly unlikely that it will be able to lock on its destination.”
“And that would happen, in your expert opinion, why exactly?” Simpson demanded.
“I don’t think that the energy fluctuations emitted by the naquadria would allow establishing a stable hyperspace window,” Calvin replied.
“They won’t,” Jonas said quietly.
“And why haven’t you come up with this before?” Simpson asked accusingly.
“We have,” Petersen replied, “but Major Carter thought they could compensate for the fluctuations.”
“Which, if the latest technical data are correct, they could not,” Chloe Loewen added.
“So, what are we going to do now?” Jonas asked. “Cross our fingers as the general suggested and hope for the best?”
“No,” Petersen said. “You’ll go back to the Control Room and wait for news about the X-302. We’ll keep trying to find a way to drain the Gate capacitors and get the military more time to find another way to contact the Asgard.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A depressingly short time later it turned out that they had been right about the X-302. Although its hyperspace generator had been able to open a window, but once it was established, master alarms had gone off at once, and the vessel, unable to lock on its destination, auto-aborted. It was one of the built-in safety measures, and it had saved the lives of Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter, who’d have probably been torn to peaces otherwise - or, as Dr. McKay had suggested, transported to an unknown location with limited fuel, oxygen and no way of getting back - but that still left them with no way to get any help from the outside.
“Can this problem be resolved?” General Hammond asked on the briefing, to which, in a sudden attack of insight - or despair - he’d invited all the scientists currently working on the problem.
Carter shrugged uncertainly. “Sir, we don’t even understand why the problem exists, yet.”
“You’re lucky,” McKay commented. “There’s no telling how much damage an unstable hyperspace window could have caused.”
Carter smiled at him in a way that made Calvin shiver… and not with pleasure. He couldn’t blame her, though. The urge to throttle McKay was rising steadily in him, too.
General Hammond ignored the little display between the scientists. “So, the bottom line is, we’re on our own,” he summarized glumly.
Carter nodded. “Afraid so, sir.”
As if emphasizing her words, the briefing room suddenly darkened, and alarms started going off. Hammond pushed the intercom button.
“Report!” he demanded.
“We’re experiencing a wide-spread loss of power, sir,” the voice of Chief Master Sergeant Harriman replied. “Switching to auxiliary power… now.”
The lights returned, but the alarms kept sounding. Carter looked at her fellow scientists, and then she began to run to the Gate Room. The others, including Colonel O’Neill, followed.
Part 2