STARGATE UNIVERSE: Air (28 page)

Chloe shook her head. “You won’t. I’m going to be okay.” With care, she helped her mother back up, to a seat on the ornate couch, clasping her hands over hers.

Her mother dabbed her eyes and composed herself as one of the maids discreetly delivered a tray of refreshments. “Thank you, Martha,” said Chloe. The maid, a woman who had known Chloe Armstrong since she was a little girl, gave her a quizzical look and walked away.

Of course,
Chloe thought,
she looks at me and sees a stranger.
The moment brought the reality of her situation back into hard focus; as much as Chloe was with her mother at this moment, she was also very, very far away.

“Have some tea, Mom.” She poured a cup of Chamomile and pressed it into her mother’s trembling hands.

Chloe heard a tap on the doorframe and turned to see Major Green standing on the threshold. “I’m sorry. Excuse me, ma’am, but Miss Armstrong, we’re going to have to leave soon.”

“I have to…go back.” Chloe said, with a nod.

Her mother got to her feet and gave the major a hard stare. “You get my daughter home,” she demanded.

“Everyone is doing their best, I assure you,” said Green. “We’re all very sorry for your loss—”

She cut him off. “Sorry… That’s not good enough.”

“Mom, it’s not his fault.”

Her mother kept her attention on the Air Force officer. “I am a personal friend of the President and of the First Lady.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Green nodded.

She pointed at Chloe. “You tell your superiors that if anything happens to her, I will go public with what I know about your Stargate. I don’t care what happens to me. I only care about her.”

“Mom,” warned Chloe, worried at her parent’s outburst. “I’m sorry, major, she’s just upset.”

But her mother was using the tone of voice she only called upon at times of utmost annoyance. “Trust me, Chloe, threats are all these people understand.” She advanced on the officer. “My husband gave his life for my daughter. You get her back to me or the whole world will know what has really been going on these past years.”

“Everyone is doing their best,” Green repeated.

Chloe paused as she stepped back into the car, looking up to see her mother framed in the window, watching them. She glanced at Major Green. “She didn’t mean what she said,” Chloe told him. “My mother wouldn’t do anything foolish.”

Green nodded, but his expression was unreadable. “I’m sure she’ll be okay, Miss Armstrong.”

He closed the door after her, but instead of walking around to the driver’s side, the major took out a cell phone and dialed it. He turned to face the house, his back to Chloe so she couldn’t see what he was saying.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Telford was laboring as he made his way down the corridor, grimly soldiering on after Lieutenant Johansen and the Armstrong girl —
correction, Doctor Mehta
, he reminded himself — as the medic led them deeper into the alien ship.

The colonel wasn’t sure what he had expected to see aboard the vessel, this
Destiny
, according to Rush’s translations. Maybe something that resembled the crystalline Ancient technology of the city-ship Atlantis, or the metallic structure of Asgard design.
Destiny
was nothing like that; it had an old, engineered feel to it. When he tried to put a shape on his first impression of the craft, he found himself imagining a ship built not with an eye towards esthetics and artistry for its own sake, but instead one made by craftsmen and engineers to do a difficult job of work. The interiors reminded him of submarines, of steelworks and garages, of aged machines powered by steam and coal and fire.

Telford tried to take it all in, but the lances of pain that shot through him with each footfall made it hard to concentrate. Even though he was feeling Young’s injuries at second hand, the body he had temporarily usurped wasn’t about to let him use it without making him pay for it. He gritted his teeth, dealing with the hurt.

Mehta was looking around. “Where is everyone?”

Johansen pointed ahead, down the corridor. “We’ve got all able-bodies searching the ship for anything that might have carbon dioxide sequestration properties to fix the scrubbers. The rest of the evacuees are in the crew quarters we found.”

The corridor widened into a larger space, and Telford saw the distinctive shape of a Stargate at the far end of the chamber. The gate was active and the colonel noted straight away that the design of the vast metal ring was slightly different from others he’d seen. He recognized two familiar faces from Icarus Base — Adam Brody and Lisa Park — standing in front of a curved console. As they approached, the Stargate shut down with a shriek of noise, and a pair of vents in the floor either side of it discharged a blast of steam into the air.

Brody threw him a look. “Ah, Colonel. We were able to dial out to the planet again.”

Johansen stepped in before Telford could answer. “Colonel Young and Chloe are using the communication stones. This is Colonel Telford and Doctor Mehta from Homeworld Command.”

Brody blinked. “Uh… right, okay.” He gave the colonel a measuring glance. “This might get confusing.”

“Next time I’ll wear a sign around my neck telling you who I am,” Telford retorted. “Did you make radio contact with the off-world team?”

“Yes, nothing to report yet,” said the scientist. “They’ve split up to cover more ground.”

“How much time before the ship jumps back to faster-than-light?” said Mehta.

Park pointed at a screen where a series of Ancient digits flickered past. “Roughly nine hours.”

Telford considered this. “Dial out every twenty minutes. Maintain regular contact with them.”

The woman made a negative noise. “We do have power issues to be aware of, sir. Dialing the gate is a significant drain on what seem to be limited resources at this point.”

He ignored another jolt of searing pain from Young’s injury and braced himself. “Right now, the away mission is priority one.”

Johansen heard the tightness in his voice. “Sir…”

He waved her away. “I’m fine,” he insisted.

Mehta moved to look over the console. “I understand there are other Stargates in range, is that right?”

Brody nodded. “Four other addresses came up in the system, but we seem to be locked out from here.”

“Have you tried working around it?”

Park folded her arms. “Doctor Rush didn’t think that was a good idea.” From her expression, it was clear the woman didn’t fully agree.

“I think it makes sense to know what the options are,” said Telford. “Do what you can to learn more about those alternates.”

Brody spoke up again. “There has to be a good reason why these addresses are being disqualified.”

Telford eyed him. Perhaps Colonel Young was willing to let the civilians call the shots, but he wasn’t about to do the same. “In case I wasn’t being clear, I was giving you an order. If there are good reasons, find out exactly what they are.” He turned to Johansen. “Okay, let’s keep moving, I want to see more.”

The medic frowned. “You really should rest.”

“Lieutenant…” he began, a warning in his voice.

“Sir, Colonel Young’s body needs time to recover,” she insisted.

“Just give me something for the pain.”

Johansen shook her head. “The body feels pain for a reason, sir, I’d rather not mask it—”

“Just do it, Lieutenant,” he snapped. Insubordination seemed to be spreading like a rash around here. “From the sounds of things, you need my help.”

She relented. “Yes sir. My med-pack is back in the colonel’s quarters. If you’ll come with me?”

Telford gave a tight nod and walked stiffly after her.
Young better damn well take more care of my skin than he has of his own,
thought the colonel.

It wasn’t one of the best residential districts outside of D.C., but it was better than most, maybe good enough for a generous critic to call it ‘low-rent’ — even if the rent actually wasn’t that low. After the argument over his acceptance of the Icarus Base posting, Emily had finally made good on an old threat and moved out. Young didn’t like this place; she deserved better. But as he was coming to realize, she had deserved better from him for a long time.

The staff car pulled to a halt and Young got out. His chaperone was one of O’Neill’s men, a serious-looking major named Peterson, and the officer intercepted him before he could walk away.

“I’ll go up.” Peterson jerked his thumb at the apartment block. “I’ll shout down when she’s ready to see you.”

If she’ll see me, you mean.
Young nodded and stood against the car, waiting. He glanced down, and it was Telford’s face that looked back up at him from the reflection in the window. He wondered how the hell he was going to explain this to his wife. Would it be better for him to pretend to
be
Telford? Tell Emily he was ‘passing on a message from Everett’? Or would that just be a kind of cowardice?

He blew out a breath. He could never lie to her. Emily was his wife, and she knew him better than anyone else, better than he knew himself.
She would know.
She would know it was him, no matter what face he was wearing.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture her. Tried to picture her smiling at him. It was hard to frame the moment in his mind, and after a while he sighed and gave up.

“Colonel,” said Peterson, walking back down the steps toward him. He said nothing else, just gave Young a nod and a look that seemed to say
good luck, you’ll need it
.

He took the stairs carefully, resisting the urge to break into a jog, grateful for the moment to be free of the pains of the injuries he’d sustained on the
Destiny
. His wife was at the door, and she seemed unsure of what to make of the man coming toward her.

He couldn’t help but smile when he saw her. “Emily…” Without thinking, he reached out to embrace her, but she backed off.

“Don’t,” she said, eying him warily.

For a moment he couldn’t be sure of the reason why;
is she suspicious because she’s seeing Telford, or because she knows it’s me?

“All I said was that you can come in,” she continued, and stepped aside.

He gave a nod, the smile fading, and walked in. Inside, the apartment was compact but warm, and everything in it was Emily. He sat opposite her across a low table and felt a pang of guilt, of loss.

“Are you going to explain all this to me?” she said.

“I will,” he said, and he did. Over the next twenty minutes he told her what his job with the Air Force actually entailed, where Icarus Base really was, what had happened there, all of it. Every piece of fantastic truth and grim reality. He told her things that nobody else could possibly know about them both, intimacies shared that only Everett Young could speak of.

When he was done, Emily’s silence stretched away from him. He could see her struggling to process it all, daring herself to believe it.

She shook her head. “It’s just… It’s ridiculous. You’re supposed to be my husband? You come here and tell me this…fantasy story?”

“It’s true,” he said simply, “All of it. Every word. I would never lie to you, Emily.”

His wife heard the honesty in his voice and clasped her hands together. “Okay. Let’s say it is true. Why are you here now? Why are you putting me through this?”

The question struck the breath from him. He had thought the reason was obvious. “I’m here because I wanted to…” He tried to form the words
say goodbye
, but he couldn’t do it.

After a moment, Young shook his head and stood up.
This is never going to work
. He’d made a grave error coming here, reopening this wound again. “I’m sorry. I…” He walked toward the door, then halted. “I want you to know that I didn’t chose the job over you. Not when I left, and not now. I love you, Emily.”

Young walked down the stairs in a daze, feeling hollow inside.
This was a mistake
, he told himself,
all you’ve done is create more pain for both of you. It would have been better for her to get a visit from an Air Force pastor and a couple of men with a folded flag
.

He crossed toward the car, where Peterson was waiting. The major looked at him as he approached. “I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”

Young’s stony look was all the answer he gave; but then he noticed Peterson looking past him. He turned to find his wife had followed him down. The major got into the car to give them a moment of privacy.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Emily spoke first. “How does this change anything?”

Another unexpected question. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s say I believe all this,” she went on. “I don’t really, but even if I did…

You
did
choose. You chose to go.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t choose
this
.”

Accusation was sharp in her tone. “You knew there was a chance you wouldn’t be coming back.”

“I am coming back, Em,” he insisted. The words sounded weak in his ears.

“No, don’t give me the party line,” she retorted. “I’m not your troops. You wouldn’t have come here like this to say goodbye if you really thought there was a chance.”

He wanted her to believe him. “I’m doing everything I can. I’m going to do everything I can. I want nothing more than to get back here to be with you.” He took a breath. “I want nothing more than for you to be here for me when I do come home. I’m just saying… I don’t know when that will be.”

Emily folded her arms and shook her head “You made your choice, Everett. I made mine. Nothing has changed. I really do hope you’re going to be okay.”

“Em…” He reached out a hand to touch her arm.

She stepped back, out of his reach. “Please. Let me go.”

He stood and said nothing as she turned and walked back into the apartment.

Scott rested his hands on the assault rifle slung across his chest as Rush bent down in the sand before him. Working in the shadows cast by Greer and the lieutenant, the scientist was running the sample test again, swirling the blood-colored mixture of heated sand and acid reagent.