Broken Circle
By Joana Dey
This story is based on characters and situations owned by the original author/writers, publishers and distributors. No copyright infringement is intended or to be inferred.
As he bent to sign his name, Jack saw movement
from the corner of his eye. Carter was heading towards him, closing a dripping umbrella,
her expression saying she wanted to 'talk.' Apparently,
the rain that had plastered his gray hair against his head as he raced to the mountain was
still falling.
He was pretty sure he knew what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth,
since she'd been trying to discuss this ever since….well, for some time. Jack most emphatically did not want the
conversation to happen, although Carter continued ignoring his very blatant hints.
"Sir, what do you think happened to Da—"
"Don’t want to talk about it, Carter," Jack snapped back. He finished
signing in and passed through the security station.
"But, sir—"
"That’s an order,
Major," he said, tight-lipped, without turning to look at her.
"Yes, sir." She sounded subdued. The two airmen managing the entrance kept their
eyes straight ahead and didn't acknowledge the by-play, pretending in best USAF manner not
to overhear.
Buy a clue, Carter, Jack frowned as he called the elevator. He didn't want to think about it, and he certainly didn't want to discuss it, for crying out loud. The last he'd seen of Daniel, the man—or rather the ascended being—was doing his vanishing act to 'take care of Anubis.' The next thing Jack knew, Anubis was blowing up Abydos and the Abydonians with it. Or so he'd assumed at the time. They'd later found out that the people of Abydos were 'safe,' having all been ascended. Daniel's work? Or Oma's?
Of Daniel there'd been no sign.
Jack let the elevator doors close in Carter's face.
Daniel had disappeared over three months ago, and Jack was just about to call it quits. It was getting old, this watching friends die, going through the gate and bashing your head against a brick wall erected by supposed allies. Time to move on and leave the field to the younger men. Oops. And women. Politically correct, here.
Yeah, he'd make this trip the last one through the gate. See if this Visitor Ban place was really the Lost City, and then hang up his skates. Retire his stick. Bury the puck. Whatever, it was time to quit.
After all, he was the one who'd told Daniel to cross that line.