A short story...
He drives away in his dark green truck after watching me walk to the
entrance of the school. I know what he's thinking and what he's trying
not to feel. But this isn't going to go down like it did for the Other
One. I'm no android, and he knows it. When I die-- either him or me--
it's not going to be so easy to watch. For either of us.
Not to say it was 'easy' then. Have you ever watched the life fade out
of a man's eyes? It is hard, but when those eyes are your own and that
last breath escapes, it leaves you cold, too. But that android had the
best of it, if you ask me. He went out with dignity, saving the lives
of SG-1 and freeing the people of Juna from Cronus (chalk up another
dead false god, Teal'c!). And he didn't have to watch his own team die.
O'Neill and SG-1 survived, but he gets to live with that memory,
stacked haphazardly along the others he keeps in a dusty room deep
inside his darkest mind.
Of course, I get to live with those memories, too.
That's why I'm doing this and that's why he's driving away now,
pretending that he doesn't know that I'm going to turn around as soon
as he's out of sight, and head for the nearest bus terminal. A
Greyhound to Denver, and then to the airport. The Air Force set up a
trust for me, and I won't have to worry about making a living for a
while. My problem will be staying alive, especially if the NID find me.
And considering the effeciency with which the NID have infiltrated the
SGC, they're probably watching me now. Time to go to ground.
Minnesota calls to me, so that's the one place I can't go. Not for a
long, long time. I'll lose myself in those green hills and lakes, but
first I need to fall off of the face of the earth.
Without actually leaving Earth, that is.
That's going to be the hardest part, I think; not going off-world.
They'll be looking for me Out There, too. So I got to get ready for
them.
I shoulder my heavy backpack and wave goodbye to my new friend. She's a
pretty girl, but I got other business. No time to play the part of a
teenager, not here. Five steps past the entrance to the school is a
hedgerow, and I am over it in a flash. O'Neill had turned north and I
was heading south, down into the city of Colorado Springs and
anonymity. Cut across the street and down an alley until I came to the
right house. I'd mapped out a route through the city last night, to
throw off any pursuit. They'll need a helocopter and a bloodhound to
track me today.
Thirty minutes of rooftops and backyards later, I am standing in line
for the Denver bus. The ID that the AF got me gives me more years than
the Asguard Loki did, but I act old enough to pull it off. Nobody even
looks twice at me. I get on the bus and take a seat near the rear exit,
studying the other passengers discreetly as I rummage in my pack for an
energy bar. One thing about being young again; I am always hungry.
I find a candy bar in the bottom of my pack, and I also find a combat
knife, a 9mm with two extra clips, a box of ammo, a wad of twenty
dollar bills bound with a rubber band, and a blue yo-yo.
Yeah. This is not the first time we've lied to ourselves, and it is not likely to be the last.
Thanks, Jack.