STARGATE UNIVERSE: Air

by James Swallow

  “Eli!” The door banged open and Marion Wallace, late like she always was, waded in through the debris of her son’s slacker lifestyle, fixing a ‘Hi! How Can I Help?’ badge to the top of the blouse they made her wear at Bobbi’s Fine Dine.

  Eli’s awareness rose slightly from his sleep-addled state, but not enough to form a cogent reply. He lay face down amid the snarl of sheets, sprawled and unkempt.

  “You didn’t even set your alarm…” she continued, then raised the gain on her shout an octave higher. “Eli!”

  That was enough to shock him fully awake, and he blinked back to something approaching alertness. “What?” he managed.

  Marion was now in the process of smoothing down her outfit, simultaneously fixing her son with an acid glare. “I don’t have time for this. I thought you had a job interview today?”

  “They cancelled,” offered Eli, his words muffled by a faceful of pillow. “I was up all night.”

  Neither explanation was satisfactory. Marion glared at Eli’s inert computer, which occupied one corner of his room with so much hardware and strewn cables, it resembled a freeze-frame of an explosion in an electronics store. “Playing those stupid games?” She rounded on him, her disappointment bubbling over. “They cancelled, or you cancelled?”

  Eli gave her a hang-dog look. “Not my skill set, Mom. Seriously.”

  She’d heard that before. “Nothing is.” Marion glanced at her watch and hissed between her teeth. “I’m late. We’ll talk about it later.”

  The lack of reply she got made it likely that her son had already slipped back into a doze, and she made her way to the door, pausing on the threshold to sigh. Eli was a smart kid, all the tutors had said so, but nothing could keep him focused for more than a short while. Marion despaired of the fact that Eli might never actually find the one thing that could hold his attention. Frowning, grabbing her keys, she jogged swiftly down the stairs and snatched up her coat on the way out. Marion hoped that Eli would be able to buckle down long enough to actually find whatever ‘it’ was, because she was damn sure opportunity wasn’t going to come knocking at the door.

  He folded the report closed and dropped it on the seat next to him, before pausing to flick a tiny piece of lint from the front of his uniform jacket. “You’re sure this is the one, Doctor?”

  The man sitting opposite him in the limo made a face. “You saw the report.”

  “I saw that some kid busting the high score on Donkey Kong is apparently a reason to get me out of bed at oh-dark-thirty hours.”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that, General. The decode test requires a unique mindset and no little skill to complete. You read the boy’s academic records. High IQ, low self-esteem, intelligent but an under-achiever. Potential without purpose. Just the kind of resource the program needs that gets lost in the cracks.”

  “If you say so. I just thought we had enough brains on board without have to do this whole Sword in the Stone thing.”

  “As I said,” continued the doctor, his tone cooling, “it’s more complicated than that.”

  “It so often is.” The general reached for the door handle. “Wait in the car till I call you,” he said.

  “Uh, sir—”

  He ignored the other man, picking up his service cap and setting it squarely on his head. “Don’t worry, the uniform makes a strong first impression.” He tapped the file. “I got a read on this kid. Believe me, I know the type pretty well.”

  “Geniuses?”

  “Geeks.” He stepped out into the overcast day, and even though he didn’t need them, put on his pair of service-issue HGU-4/P sunglasses to add a final touch of Air Force cool.

  The house was pretty much the same as every other one on the block: small, suburban, two-bedroom. There were signs of neglect here and there, though. A patchy lawn, peeling paint. The file filled in the gaps. Home payments in the black, but just a little too short of money for anything above the line.

  He strode up to the door and gave what his dad had always called a ‘soldier knock’. Bang-bang, hard and fast. Open Up, it said.

  The door opened and on the threshold stood the kid, a little doughy, a little lazy-looking, wearing a t-shirt, a hoodie and baggy pajama bottoms. He blinked when he saw the dress blues and a new alertness snapped into place in his expression — it was very much an ‘Oh Shit’ moment for him.

  The general had seen his picture in the file, an unflattering shot scanned from a college yearbook, but he had to ask the question anyhow. “Eli Wallace?”

  “What’s going on?” The kid’s eyes went, like most civilians did, straight to the wedge of ribbons and bars that represented the officer’s numerous decorations.

  He fixed Eli with a hard stare that went right through the sunglasses. “I’m General Jack O’Neill.”

  The next emotion on Wallace’s face was barely suppressed panic. “Actually, Eli’s not here right now…”

  Satisfied he’d made the right first impression, O’Neill glanced over his shoulder and nodded at the limo.

  Eli kept talking. “Look, whatever you think I did, I swear you’ve got the wrong guy.”

  He turned back, his gaze as steely as ever. He had to admit, he was actually enjoying making the lad squirm. “Do I look like someone who would be standing here if I didn’t already know everything about you?”

  Eli considered this for a moment, and saw the truth of it. “Not really,” he admitted. “Who are you people?”

  The doctor was coming up beside him, and O’Neill let him take the next step. “I’m Doctor Nicholas Rush. May we come in?”

  Eli didn’t move. “Why?”

  “You’ve spent a great deal of time recently playing an on-line fantasy game called Prometheus,” said Rush.

  The kid’s incredulity overwhelmed his terror for just a moment. “Seriously? Big Brother’s got nothing better to do than to watch me grinding for cheeves?”

  “I have no idea what that means,” offered O’Neill.

  Rush pressed on. “This morning you solved the Dakara weapon puzzle.”

  Now they were on the kid’s territory, he got a little more confident. “Yeah, a month of my life went into that. You know what happens when you solve that thing? Nothing.”

  O’Neill indicated himself and Rush. “We’re here. That happened.”

  The doctor smiled slightly. “To complete that particular puzzle, you had to solve a millennia-old mathematical proof written in another language. And for that, you’ve won…something of a prize.”

  “Oh yeah?” Avarice flickered in Eli’s eyes. “Whatever it is, I’ll take the cash equivalent.”

  “There isn’t one,” said O’Neill, as Rush produced a steel clipboard and a pen.

  He offered it, but Wallace didn’t bite. “It’s a non-disclosure agreement,” added Rush.

  Eli gingerly took the document and studied it as if he thought it might be poisonous. “Non-disclosure?” he repeated. “So you guys really embedded a top secret, unsolvable problem into a videogame, hoping someone like me would crack it?”

  “Yep,” O’Neill deadpanned. “You’d be surprised how often that happens.”

  “Really?”

  “No. Not really.”

  Eli gave them a wary look. “So if I solved it, what do you need me for now?”

  Rush indicated the document. “I assure you, it will be worth your while to sign that.”

  The kid turned the pen over between his fingers. “And if I don’t?”

  O’Neill gave him a steady, intent stare. “Then we’ll beam you up to our spaceship.”

  Eli gave a nervous chuckle, which died in moments when he saw that the general wasn’t joking. He moved away a step, backing into his house. “Right. I think I want my lawyer to look at it first…”

  “By lawyer,” said O’Neill, “I assume you mean mother?”

  The door was already closing. “Why don’t we just go ahead and agree that I will call you?”

  Then O’Neill and Ru
sh were standing alone on the stoop. “I can see you’ve done this recruiting thing a lot, General,” said the doctor, with no little sarcasm. “Good job.”

  “Just priming him, is all,” he replied, reaching into his pocket for an encrypted cell phone. “Now we make with some shock and awe.” He tabbed the speed-dial for a number that did not and would never exist in any kind of public record, and waited a moment.

  When the line connected he spoke a terse codeword and gave his orders. “Walter? Contact Carter. Tell her she has a go.”

  Eli took a couple of steps into the hallway and paused, looking over the paper in his hand.

  He read the words at the top of the form out loud. “Homeworld Command.” That had to be a misprint, surely? Wasn’t it called Homeland Security, or something? He shook his head. And who the hell was that O’Neill guy to come to his door and play the whole Men In Black routine with him?

  His fingers tensed around the pen. He hoped this wasn’t something about all the stuff he’d downloaded off the internet. The government really frowned on that, so he’d heard.

  Eli’s skin began to tingle and he gasped. From out of nowhere, a brilliant white glow was forming all around him, blotting out everything. A high-pitched sound filled his ears, and he flinched and tried to scream —

  — But then the white glow faded away and he was in a completely different place. A steel-walled room, like the inside of a warship or a bunker. Eli blinked, turning toward the far side of the chamber, and what he saw almost made him drop the pen and paper in surprise.

  “What the…?”

  One whole wall was a vast floor-to-ceiling window, and beyond it… Beyond it was the most incredible thing Eli Wallace had ever seen.

  Earth. The planet lay below him, turning slowly, curtains of white cloud moving over azure seas and rich umber tracts of land. With a start, he recognized the Florida peninsula, and his eyes flicked across the sight, picking out landmarks half-remembered from geography class.

  He heard the same hum, caught a glimmer of the white flash from the corner of his eye, but he could not draw his gaze away from the view out the window. Rush walked up alongside him and shared it.

  “Welcome aboard the Hammond, Eli.”

  He tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn’t work, so he just pointed. Is that what I think it is? said the gesture.

  Rush gave a nod. “Yes, that is the planet Earth, and yes, you are aboard a spaceship.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it shocked Eli back into speaking.

  “Wh-what happened to the other guy?”

  “General O’Neill had to return to Washington.”

  “Oh.” Eli wondered how O’Neill had traveled. Did he do the Star Trek thing as well, or did that fancy limo they’d parked outside his house transform into a jet plane, or something? “But I didn’t sign…”

  “You will,” said Rush. “We need your help, Eli. This is very important.” He indicated the non-disclosure form, still gripped in Eli’s hand. He gave a rueful smile. “To be honest, I don’t really know how long it’s going to take.”

  The reality of his situation was starting to catch up to him. “I should call my mom…” He fished in a pocket for his cell phone. “Let her know where I am.”

  Rush shook his head. “That won’t work up here.”

  Eli stared lamely at his phone. “Right.” What could I say to her even if I could call? ‘Hey, Mom, guess what? I’ve just been kidnapped by the United States Air Force!’

  “You can speak to her en route,” said Rush. “There’s a cover story you’ll have to follow.” He nodded to himself, as if remembering something. “Don’t worry, these people have been doing this sort of thing for over a decade.”

  Eli’s brain caught up with Rush’s words. “Wait, I’m sorry. En route? En route to where?”

  “To P4X-351. Another planet, approximately twenty-one light-years from here.”

  It was getting harder to handle all this at once. The size of these ideas were crowding out his brain. Eli shook his head. “I can’t go. I have things to—”

  Rush interrupted. “We know about your mother’s condition.”

  “What?” The mention of Mom’s illness, so sudden and so bald, immediately dragged Eli right back to the real, the everyday and earthbound actuality of his life. He felt a momentary flash of resentment. “Well, you know everything, don’t you?”

  “We also know you are not currently employed and that your mother’s medical coverage is an ongoing issue.” Eli gave a shallow nod to that, thinking of the pile of bills back on the kitchen table. The staff HMO plan at the Fine Dine wasn’t exactly up to much. “We’re going to see that she gets the best care available while you’re gone,” Rush concluded.

  Eli weighed the paper in his hand. It suddenly felt like it was made of lead. “How do I know this isn’t something freaky? Like, maybe you and that General guy drugged me, messed with my head?” He thought about his mother and something twisted in his chest. “Are you people for real?”

  The other man nodded toward the window. “This is as real as it gets, Eli.”

  He held up the papers. “And if I don’t sign? What? You erase my memory?”

  “Something like that.” Rush smiled at him, and it wasn’t reassuring. “Let’s just say it’d be easier if you did sign it.”

  Eli sighed and found the spot where his signature was supposed to go. He scrawled it in and handed the papers back to Rush, before looking down.

  Abruptly, the state of his wardrobe became clear to him. He pulled at his pajama bottoms and gave Rush a sheepish glance. “Can I get some pants?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Unnoticed by all but a very small percentage of the Earth’s population, the starship George S. Hammond left orbit, passing behind the far side of the moon before charging into the other-dimensional realm of hyperspace.

  Eli had insisted on being allowed to watch it happen, despite pointed suggestions from Doctor Rush that he take “the whole space thing” one step at a time. Once he’d gotten past the kidnap-abduction bit, though, Eli was starting to warm to the idea of being chosen for something this cool. And the great thing was, he hadn’t had to get to it the hard way like the Air Force types he encountered around the ship, men and women who’d clearly footslogged and fought their way up to getting a posting aboard the Hammond, one of — so he’d been told — a handful of advanced interstellar spacecraft that were now in service protecting humanity from the dangers out there in the dark. Eli hadn’t gotten around to asking exactly what those dangers might be, because he wasn’t really sure he wanted to know.

  He concentrated on the cool stuff. Watching the ship hit hyperdrive was incredible, as space melted away into a tunnel of blue-white energy and the speed of light shattered like glass. Somewhere, Albert Einstein was foaming at the mouth.

  They didn’t let him wander all over the place, though. He had a small cabin to himself, and some USAF flunky had shown the foresight to have a bag of his clothes sent up before they broke orbit. He’d asked if he could see the bridge and they’d said no. When he asked one of the crew if they had a holodeck, the guy had nodded gravely and then given Eli directions that took him to the female washroom. It had been, in retrospect, a dumb question.

  But it was still very cool. It was like that movie, The Last Starfighter. He’d been picked for his gamer prowess to help save the world. The secret dream of every player since someone dropped the first quarter on Space Invaders.

  At least, he hoped it was that. On some level, he was still holding away the fear that at any moment, the walls would retract and he would find himself on some hidden camera show called How Gullible Are You?

  And just when he was wondering what he’d be doing all the way to planet whatever, Rush sat him down with what could only be described as a library of educational movies, which were not a lot different from the ones he remembered from fourth grade — only with the added complication of being Mega-Ultra Top Secret.

  There was that line in
Star Wars where Ben Kenobi tells Luke Skywalker that he’s taken his “first step into a larger world”. Eli understood exactly what he meant now, as the information films started to unfold, showing him stuff he’d never dreamed could be real. And it was clear that Old Obi-Wan had forgotten to mention that the first step was a real doozy.

  On the screen, a bookish guy in spectacles walked through the concrete corridors of a military facility, the blunt Fifties nuclear-scare design mingled in with modern-day tech retrofitted over the top.

  “Hello,” he began warmly, in the time-honored tradition of all educational film narrators, “I’m Doctor Daniel Jackson…”

  “And you might remember me from such other instructional videos as ‘Help! I was Abducted by the Air Force!’ and ‘Outer Space is Rad!’” Eli laughed out loud at his own joke, disappointed that there was no-one else in the room to appreciate his wit.

  Jackson was now standing in front of a big metal ring with a ramp leading up to it. “Behind me is a Stargate. Found in Giza, Egypt in 1928, we now know it was originally built by an alien race who we call ‘the Ancients’, many millennia ago. Over the next few hours we’ll be touching on some of the things you need to know about this incredible technology and the universe of possibilities it has opened up for humanity.”

  The next few hours? First spaceships and now alien artifacts? Eli began to wonder what he’d agreed to when he signed that paperwork. “Probably should have actually read it first,” he told himself.

  As the narrator went on, Eli’s attention became locked on the man’s explanations. The more he heard, the more he was sucked in. Jackson explained the nature of the 39 symbols around the curves of the Stargate, each representing constellations as seen from Earth, and how the device used a seven symbol address to open up an interstellar wormhole across the Milky Way, capable of sending people and objects hundreds of thousands of light-years in seconds. Forget the starships and hyperdrive; this was like a subway system for the whole galaxy.