Author's Note:This has been a work in progress for over a year and a half. Please be patient and please, please give feedback.
Geology Intern Mark Hess fumbled with the lid to his thermos and carefully poured the last of his now lukewarm coffee. Stepping out into the bright sunlight, he sipped it slowly and tried to think of the Colorado summer he was missing. Three weeks ago, collecting samples in the Antarctic actually seemed like an adventure. Now all he wanted was a warm bath, a warm meal, a warm bed, . . . well, anything warm would be nice. What had he been thinking? True, this was free room and board for a month. And yes, the opportunity to suck up to the science department chair was one he couldn’t pass up. But next year, he was definitely going to find an internship in Jamaica.
He screwed the lid back onto the thermos and trudged back into the cavern. The order of the day (of every day, he thought tiredly) was to collect ice samples that had been sheltered from the sun’s rays. Apparently, the professor had some theory about the effect of the depleting ozone layer on water microorganisms. So his job as intern was to collect a variety of exposed and unexposed samples every day and ship them back to a lab in the states. That lab would then analyze the samples and look for irregularities--“mutant amoebas” as he had explained to his buddies before he left. And it’s just as boring as it sounds, he thought as he started chipping into the ice on the ground. Fortunately, this particular cavern had been excavated by the military just over a year ago, so it made a convenient spot for collecting the unexposed samples. If they had done the project last summer, it might have taken weeks to find an area this deep yet accessible. Mark pulled another VOA vial out of his pocket and started scooping ice chips into it. One more and he could go back to the shelter. Fastening the lid, he put it back into the portable cooler he was carrying and walked about 20 feet further into the cavern. Kneeling, he started chipping into the ice again, his mind absently wandering in search of warmer places.
His thoughts suddenly snapped back as his pick hit something metal. Instantly interested in what he was doing, he delved deeper into the surface, eventually uncovering a strange palm-sized capsule. As he picked it up to examine it, his glove brushed a small upraised button and the capsule suddenly popped open. Startled, he dropped it again. Two metal halves fell along with the contents, a small frozen cylinder of a shimmering silver substance. Reaching for the cylinder, he was surprised to find it wasn’t completely frozen but seemed to be soft, like jello. “Weird” he muttered. He pulled out his last VOA vial and put the substance inside. It seemed to conform to the shape of the vial-not typical for something at sub-zero temperatures, he thought. Sealing it up, he put the sample in the cooler with the others and reached for the outer halves of the capsule. Turning them over in his near-frozen hands, he noticed several strange markings on the surface. “They look almost alien” he said aloud and started to put it in the cooler with the samples. But his hand stopped as he thought about what he just said. An idea came to him and he put the capsule halves in his pocket instead. “Maybe that Jamaican trip isn’t too far off after all,” he thought as he headed back toward camp.
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Two Weeks Later
Dr. Daniel Jackson yawned as he started his car. It had been an exhausting day, and not in the interesting “gating to a new world and studying artifacts” kind of way. Instead it was more of a “filling out endless mounds of government paperwork and going to pointless meetings” type of day. There wasn’t another mission planned until next week, so Gen. Hammond had “suggested” that SG-1 catch up on some of the red tape they usually avoided. And every time Daniel had tried to escape to his office to do some translation, Jack found him and dragged him off to another meeting. He couldn’t wait to get home.
A light on the dashboard brought his wishful thinking to a halt. Daniel sighed as he noticed the fuel gauge was riding on empty. Fortunately, there was a Quik Mart station just down the road. He crossed his fingers all the way there, thanking the fates for sparing him a long walk with a gas can. Having filled the tank, he went inside to pay, only to be stopped by a huge line at the register. Lottery night, he thought in dismay. Every Wednesday and Saturday, people flocked to this and every other gas station to take their chances with the State Lottery Commission. He sighed again and got in line, that ended in the back by the magazine and newspaper racks. At least he would have something to read while he waited. Daniel glanced at the headlines, amused at the tabloid claims of celebrity downfalls and miracle diets. One headline caught his eye-“Alien Artifact found in Antarctica!” Well of course, he thought, it was found by Jack and Sam when they accidentally gated through it. He chuckled softly and took the paper from the rack to see what nonsense article accompanied the headline. But he stopped short when he saw the picture. Grabbing his glasses from his pocket, he took a hard look at the paper.
“Oh wow!” he breathed. Pushing past the lottery hopefuls, he tossed a $20 at the cashier and raced back to the base.
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"You guys need to look at this!" Daniel slammed the paper down in front of his team leader.
Jack looked at the paper skeptically. " 'Julia Roberts To Wed Escaped Convict' Yeah, THAT's news," he said, pushing the paper over to Sam.
"Not that--look at the picture!" Daniel turned the paper over in Sam's hands.
The scientist's eyes grew wide. "Holy Hannah, Daniel, those are Stargate symbols!" she exclaimed.
Jack snatched the paper back. "Are you sure?" Daniel gave him a withering look. "Alright, alright, you're sure." he conceeded. "Let's see what we can find out."
They filed out, heading for Daniel's office. Teal'c paused, picked up the remainder of the tabloid, and tucked it neatly under his arm before following the others out the door.
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Emily glanced at the clock as the familiar UPS truck pulled into the lot. 4:56pm. Way too late, she thought, since all the lab staff leaves at four on Fridays. But since the lab was technically open until five, she was still working, trying to clear her desk off before the weekend. The delivery man that had already come earlier that day reentered the foyer with an apologetic look.
“ I know it’s late, but this was just found in the back of the warehouse and my supervisor wanted me to get it here as fast as possible.”
“How long was it lost?” she asked as she signed the electronic clipboard.
“They didn’t say. Sorry.” He rushed out and Emily came around the counter and locked the door behind him.
Picking up the small blue cooler, she realized why the courier was so eager to leave. Carrying it back to the lab, she could hear water sloshing and the unwelcome clinking of broken glass. Great, she thought. Not only did they lose the sample, they broke it too. She set the sample down on the lab counter and reached for the digital camera. Typical CYA--Cover Your Ass-- procedure; take a picture of the broken sample the moment it comes in and tell the boss. Let him deal with it from there. The shipping label read University of Colorado. 'I should have known,' Emily thought. They’d been getting a steady stream of samples from some ongoing project since June. 'It must have been lost in that warehouse for over a week for the ice to be this melted,' she figured, picking away at the packing tape with her fingernails. As the last piece came loose, she opened the lid.
Immediately a burst of moist air escaped, hitting Emily full in the face. Startled she stumbled back, blinking and coughing.
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Saturday morning, Dr. Samuel Wellston drove up to the lab, noticing irritably that a light had been left on. He unlocked the door and reached for the alarm panel to turn the security system off. But his hand stopped as he noticed the light on the panel. Green, not red. The system had never been turned on. Feeling a bit alarmed himself, he called out “Hello?” as he walked back to the lab. He noticed the new folder on the counter and picked it up. University of Colorado. He remembered a conversation a couple weeks ago about expecting some samples, but only half had arrived. He set the folder down and circled the counter, intending to call his friend. But as he turned the corner, he tripped over something. He looked down and gasped.
"Emily!" She was crumpled on the floor, pale and still as death. He rushed over and checked for a pulse. It was there, but much to slow. He checked her breathing to find it was also very slow, almost impossibly so. He grabbed the phone off the counter and dialed 911.
To be continued...
