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I parked the rental car in front of the blue apartment building with an apartment-for-rent sign in the window, sincerely wishing that Sam's name was Koslowski or Amarzikan rather than something as common as "Carter". I knew that she had to live within commuting distance of Cheyenne Mountain, but that took in the whole enormous urban area of Colorado Springs, and a bunch of the smaller surrounding towns besides. There were only 172 Carters in the phone listings. Thank god for computers. Of the list, I had five "S. Carter" listings, two "Samantha"s and one "Sam". I'd used the time at the airport waiting for my rental car to check several of the listings. One Samantha was already ruled out and two of the S. Carters. One more was a non-answer and two were answering machines that didn't give me enough information to tell. The apartment in front of me was the other Samantha Carter listing. I was going to feel darned silly if I had to check them all and then found out she was unlisted.
I turned off the engine, suddenly feeling my heart pound. Damn, I didn't think I had been this nervous sitting on top of a tower filled with tons of rocket fuel, waiting to be blasted into orbit. I got out of the car, tucking a thick dark blue book under my arm and went up the steps. The door was propped open despite the security panel of buzzers beside it and I hesitated, debating whether I should go up and knock. Before I could, a slender dark-haired young woman came out. "Buzzer's broken." She told me.
"Um, thanks." I smiled. "I'm looking for Samantha Carter."
"Oh." The girl looked wary. "Mind if I ask why?"
"I, um, she's a friend. Well, an acquaintance. I don't have her current address, so I'm trying to track her down through the phone listings."
The girl was still looking wary. "I'm Samantha. But I don't think I know you. What's this about?"
I blinked. "You're Samantha Carter?"
"Yeah."
"Then you're not the right one." I sighed in exasperation and disappointment and pulled out a pen to cross off the listing. That meant she was either listed as "Sam" or was one of the S. Carters I hadn't tried yet. Or was unlisted. Of course I could call Cheyenne, but I needed to talk to her, and didn't want to risk having her hang up. And I doubted the security guards at the base would take kindly to me staking the place out to try and catch her as she got out of work.
The girl took a step closer. Well, may be she wasn't all that young. Twenties, with a trim figure and bright dark eyes that would surely interest me a lot more if I wasn't preoccupied with my own mission. She was looking at the papers in my hands. "You really are looking for a different Samantha Carter?"
I nodded. "Taller than you, blonde. She's an Air Force Captain now." I pulled out the Air Force Academy yearbook and opened it to the marked page. A very young Sam Carter smiled in the middle of the second row. "I don't have a recent picture, just this."
The girl looked at it. "An old school friend, I guess? Sorry, I don't know her. And I really am Sammie Carter. There's nobody else here by that name."
"No problem. Thanks for the help." I didn't bother to correct her assumption, just turned back to the car. Even if the whole story of my meeting with Sam wasn't covered by a blanket of security that would ensure me a trip to Leavenworth if I ever talked about it, who'd believe me? I couldn't even picture it. "Yeah, I'm an astronaut. I met Sam a few weeks ago in orbit when they sent us up with a couple of nuclear weapons to kick alien ass, but instead we wound up giving a ride down to a commando team that beat us to it. No, I have no idea how they got up there in the first place." Ri-ight. Like anyone would buy that. "Yeah, and I'm looking for Sam because I want to ask her for a job reference."
Crazy as it sounded though, it was nothing more than the truth. The desperate, secretive preparations, two crates stenciled with radiation warnings, the two black alien gliders that we had met in orbit- they all seemed like nothing more than a bad dream. If it weren't for the mission logs, that showed we had taken Endeavor into orbit three weeks early, on a classified mission that bumped everything in the current three year waiting list for launch payloads, and the news coverage of a mysterious explosion in orbit, I'd probably be checking myself into a rubber room. As it was, I still looked in the mirror some mornings and wondered about my sanity. But I and the other members of the crew on the mission had learned that day that NASA wasn't the only option for a career in space. And some people were seeing a lot more of it than we were. We hadn't known anything more than the first names of the team that we'd ferried down from orbit, but they'd been met by people in Air Force uniforms, and at least two of them, the older man named Jack and the beautiful blonde, Sam, had spoken with a familiar jargon, and had the crack of command in their voices. I'd chosen to look first for Sam; female officers were still a lot less common than male ones in the US military. It had only taken us a couple of weeks to track down her picture in the yearbook. So I had boarded a plane to Colorado with transfer applications for Purcell, Lewis, Connelly and myself. Now I just needed to find Samantha Carter and convince her to help us get in the door.
The listing for "Sam Carter" was nearby, so I decided to check that one next. Even if there weren't anyone there, perhaps there would be a neighbor I could ask. But absurdly, my luck was holding. I had just found a place to park on the street when I saw a car park in the residents' lot next to the building, and Captain Samantha Carter got out, along with a man I didn't recognize. I grabbed my manila folder and hustled to catch up with them as they approached the door and caught part of their conversation.
"..thought we'd try that new Chinese place, Daniel. You can't eat that crap in the cafeteria every night."
"I wasn't going to eat that crap in the cafeteria, Sam." The other man returned in a reasonable tone.
"No, you were going to skip dinner, drink four or five pots of coffee and work all night." I couldn't help but grin. May be this guy was her brother; she certainly had the big-sisterly tone down pat.
"Captain Carter!" I called out. "May I please speak with you?"
She turned back at the door, her eyes quizzical. "Yes?"
I stopped a few feet away. "I'm Captain Ian Howard. We met a few weeks ago?"
It was definitely her, but evidently I hadn't made much of an impression, since she was looking at me without the slightest trace of recognition. I tried again. "Some friends and I offered you a lift?"
She looked at me unblinking. "Sorry, is there something I can do for you, Captain?"
"Well, yes. I was hoping you could help me. If I could just have a few moments of your time? Please?" I glanced at the man beside her. He was younger than I had thought at first and possibly he was her brother. He wasn't as angelically fair, but there was a trace of a resemblance in the steady blue eyes. He was looking at Sam.
"Friend of yours, Sam?"
She exchanged a glance with him and turned back to me. "Why don't you come in?"
I followed them up to the apartment, and was let into a pleasant book-filled living room. Well, pleasant but for the dust, which was everywhere. Sam had stopped downstairs to collect an overlarge packet of mail, which she dumped on the table as I followed her into the kitchen. Daniel and I took seats. I rescued a copy of Astrophysics Journal as slid off the table and put it back. "Thanks," Sam said. "Water?" She was pouring a glass for herself. I shook my head and noticed that the answering machine was blinking rapidly as well, indicating that she had messages waiting. Evidently she wasn't home much. She glanced around irritably at the mess but turned back to me without apology. "Captain Howard. I don't know what you think I can tell you..."
"You said you owed us." I blurted. I'd come so far, and she hadn't even recognized me. Had she? I looked at the younger man, who was watching the two of us intently. "Um, maybe we should speak privately?"
"That's not necessary." Sam turned to him. "Daniel, Captain Howard is an astronaut. He was on the shuttle Endeavor a few weeks ago." Hey, she did remember me!
Daniel said "Ah," and the faintly puzzled look disappeared. Okay, that made the guy a part of this. The look of comprehensive understanding that flashed in his eyes told me that he knew the whole story and then some. He continued. "May be Captain Howard should just tell us why he is here?"
They both looked at me. I fished the transfer request forms out of the manila folder. "Call me Ian, please." I held out the forms and Sam took them slowly. "Lewis, Purcell, Connelly and I are looking for a transfer. Only we didn't know what duty assignment to put. All I want is for you to fill in the blank and take these to.wherever.. and turn them in for me."
Sam and Daniel both had that look of all-encompassing comprehension on their faces now, and I had the unsettling feeling that they were looking right through me, as if I were made of crystal, with every flaw and imperfection hanging right out there.
Sam shook her head. "You really don't know what you're asking for."
I leaned forward, trying to put all my urgency in my face and tone. "No, I don't. But I want to. I need to know." I could read the negation in her look. "Please. You told me that you had always dreamed of joining NASA. Well that was my dream, too. And I did it. But that was before I knew there was more. Now that I do- I can't go back to making presentations to schoolchildren like it never happened."
She looked undecided, and glanced at her friend. "Daniel?" She picked up her water.
He was looking at me steadily. He not only understood, he empathized with the hunger to know, the curiosity. I could see it written on his face. But there was a shadow there as well. He said, "Ian, how badly do you want to know? You're asking for something pretty serious. You could die. Or worse." He trapped my gaze with his own. Had I thought this man young? He couldn't possibly be, not with the echoes of pain and horror and impossible grief I saw written in his face. I dropped my eyes first and realized that the shadow on his neck was not cast by his collar, but rather was a ring of yellowish-green bruises chained around his throat. He looked like someone had tried to strangle him. His words echoed in my ears. "Or worse." What was worse than death? I put the thought aside and marshaled my arguments. Ignorance was worse than death, as far as I was concerned.
"The space program isn't exactly safe." I replied. "And I didn't join the Air Force only to get into NASA. I took an oath. And recently I've gotten the idea that there are more threats to my country than I ever realized. I'd rather be a defender than a defendee." I shivered a moment, thinking of two nuclear bombs lashed to the floor of the shuttle and the older man, Jack, floating beside them and saying ruefully "I sure wish I'd had those yesterday."
Daniel looked away from me back to Sam and they exchanged another one of those unreadable looks that obviously conveyed volumes to them. The dynamic was hauntingly familiar, and I remembered the unconscious awareness that Sam, Jack and the other man had had with one another. Like a combat team, I'd thought at the time. I looked dubiously at Daniel. He really didn't look like a soldier, with his longish hair and shabby civilian clothes. But that easy flow of unspoken communication said that he was as much Sam's teammate as the others. Before I quite realized it, the question fell off my tongue. "So where were you when your friends needed a ride?"
There was a flicker of something very like mischief in his eyes and a faint quirk at the corner of his mouth as he glanced at Sam, just swallowing her water. "Oh, I'd decided to walk home."
Sam choked and sprayed the full mouthful of water across the table, then turned red as she continued to cough, glaring across the table at her teammate. "Not funny." She finally got out, although the growl was belied by a gleam of humor.
They both turned their attention back to me. "I'll see what I can do." Sam said.
Daniel glanced down at the folder. "Unless there's something else you'd like to say?"
I handed it across. "Just that I brought copies of our personnel jackets. To make it easier to assess our qualifications."
"Or lack thereof." Sam took the folder and glanced over it briefly, then slid the transfer forms inside. "I can't make you any promises."
I winced and wondered what were the qualifications were for fighting off alien invasions. I wasn't sure that a degree in engineering physics quite covered it. "That's okay. And if there's any advice you can give me, anything I should brush up on...?"
Sam shook her head. "Nice try. Go home, Ian. If anything happens you'll be notified."
I gritted my teeth but nodded. It wasn't going to be her decision anyway; I knew that. I held out a hand. "Thanks."
She took it briefly, the same firm clasp as when she and the others had thanked me and the rest of the crew at the shuttle landing site. "Good luck." She turned to lead the way to the door.
Daniel said, "Why don't you go change? I'm starving. I'll see Ian out." She nodded and turned back to the inside of the apartment.
Daniel opened the door for me, and as we stepped through said in a low tone. "Think boot camp."
"Wha-" I must have looked like a fish. Way to impress a future coworker, Ian.
The gleam of empathy was back in his eyes, and his tone was serious. "Brushing up on tech training is unlikely to help you. Get in shape. Refresh your weapons training. First aid. Think boot camp." He led the way to the stairs. I followed dumbly. To go to space, think boot camp? I remembered Jack, carrying a MP-5 out of the alien glider craft, like he'd be lost without it. And Daniel had joked about walking home. He couldn't mean literally walking, could he?
"But I am in good shape." I muttered I followed him down the stairs to the security door.
Daniel shook his head. "Sorry, but it's the best advice I can give you."
#
Back home a few days later, Lewis, Purcell, Connelly and I gathered around the coffee pot. "How did it go?" Talkative Lewis was as always the first to ask.
I checked the area to be sure there was no one in within hearing distance before I replied. "She said she'd turn in the request."
"And are they likely to take it?" Purcell said.
"Don't know." I told him. "But I got an off-the-record suggestion that we should get in shape and re-qualify on small arms. Think boot camp."
"Boot camp?" Connelly said. "Carter said we should go back to boot camp? What the hell does that have to do with space?"
I cut them off hurriedly, seeing a familiar figure approaching.
"I'm glad I could catch the four of you together." Our CO said dryly. It occurred to me that we'd probably been conspicuously spending more time together than would normally be the case. Lewis and I were usually on the same mission team, while Purcell and Connelly I had barely known before our bizarre mission on the Endeavor. Not very subtle, guys. Of course most of the rest of the guys, including our own team members were furious and bewildered about the secret mission that had pushed out the launch schedule, and we'd come in for a lot of grief when we had clung to the security regs and not told them anything. I looked at the sheaf of papers in his hand. Surely it was too soon to hear-
He looked us over sternly. "It seems that you are not going to be with us for much longer. I don't know who you pissed off, but I have here orders revoking your release to serve in NASA."
Oh, shit. They had told us that following the mission that we weren't supposed to so much as think about what we had seen and heard. And what had we done? We had barely touched ground again when we tracked down one of the people we were forbidden to think about. At her home. Asked her to get us into the top secret program we were supposed to be pretending never existed. Okay, I'd thought about leaving NASA, but getting kicked out in disgrace wasn't really what I had in mind.
He was going on though, "You have all been reassigned to NORAD, the Deep Space Radar Telemetry program under General George Hammond."
Deep Space Radar Telemetry? But that was...shit, already. She did it. Wow. The gorgeous Samantha must have actually put in a word for us to get results this quickly. The mills of military bureaucracy just don't turn that fast without help. I barely heard the rest. The long speech about how disappointed he was to be losing us from the program that was the pinnacle of our careers. The strained expressions on the faces of the other three as they struggled to suppress the urge to whoop in excitement and show only sober disappointment and chagrin. I'm sure my own expression was equally strange. We had three weeks to get our desks clear, get packed up and transfer. We were to report to Cheyenne Mountain on the first of the month.
What were we going to be doing? I wondered. May be learn how to fly those alien gliders, that would be cool. Or work on big ships, the sort that had blown up? But even if we were no more than ground crew, I'd be grateful for the chance to learn about technology that would really take us to space. And where did the weapons, first aid, for god's sake walking come into this? I had absolutely no idea. But I couldn't wait to find out.