August 2, Atlantis, Pegasus Galaxy
Dear Jane,
I don't know exactly how I feel about someone reading my Dear John letters. They
started, years ago, as a way of pretending I wasn't so alone when I was working in
a region where no one but the translator spoke my language fluently. Over the years
it became a diary of sorts, somewhere to vent that never saw the light of day. At
the end of every month I would burn the entries in a fire, putting the month's troubles
behind me. I'd been putting the letters in what I *thought* was a trash disposal these
last few months. I didn't realize they were being sent anywhere, much less Earth.
I greatly appreciate the assurances that this will stay confidential. Law is the
only other discipline that really understands the need for privacy. Well, and the
military, but I digress. As to whether you should continue to read, I leave that
up to you. It honestly *is* a comfort, knowing someone back home is concerned
whether I live or die. Someone with even a basic grasp of where I really am. My
cousin doesn't know anything, aside from that I'm working for the US Air Force.
Listen, this is going to sound morbid, and I'm asking a lot of someone who's never
met me. But... Even if you're not reading the letters. If it gets to be more than
a few months and nothing's appeared, could you contact my cousin for me? Say you
knew me through work or something. Just so I know she'll be told. Because knowing
the government, they'll tell my parents. And they couldn't care less. Her address
is on the back of this letter. My thanks, if it ever comes to that.
~ Laura
- - -
August 6, Atlantis, Pegasus Galaxy
Dear Jane,
I don't think this was in my job description. I really don't.
In fact, I'm rather sure it wasn't.
Over the last week, we've had marines coming in left and right with some GI bug
they picked up off world. That? I can deal with. Nothing a well placed bucket or
two and some antibiotics can't fix. Then I get Dr. Parrish in, same symptoms.
Only when I ask how long he was on P7X-795 he looks blank.
He. Never. Went.
It turns out the last time he was off world was almost two months ago. He's been
letting the new botanist get used to off-world missions since his team leader was
grounded with a shoulder injury. I pull some blood, hoping like hell this thing
wasn't airborne, and nothing! No sign of the bacteria causing the marines so much
misery.
I talked to Carson, given that this isn't exactly my area of expertise. We ran a
broad spectrum toxicology. The results? There are three abnormal chemicals in Dr.
Parrish's blood. One of them is Beta HCG. Yes. According to the blood test, Dr.
Parrish is pregnant. I start in on how it's impossible, when I notice Carson isn't
exclaiming along with me.
Carson's looking like he just bit into something unpleasant. We're talking strange
delicacies from rural Africa unpleasant. (Have you ever had raw monkey brains?
Don't.) When I asked what was wrong, he dragged me into his office and said,
"How do you feel about don't ask, don't tell?" I pointed out that it didn't apply
to me, I was civilian and he relaxed. A little.
He then launched into the most incredible story involving the parentage of Sarah
McKay. It involves strange alien ceremonies, drugged blue wine, and about six
months down the line a seriously pissed off scientist. Which explains a lot of
things, now that I've had a chance to think about it. At the time? I started
stuttering about how it was a little late to play 'tease the new doc'. Carson was
quite patient with me, all things considered.
After all was said and done, Carson patted me on the shoulder, wished me luck, and
pointed me to Dr. Parrish's exam area to deliver the good news. Well, that and
interrogate the hell out of him so it doesn't happen again. Because his file
indicated no strange technology interactions in the last six months. Not even any
truly strange welcoming ceremonies. Just an infected plant bite (Major Lorne,
Parrish's team leader, had described the perpetrator as a venus flytrap on
steroids in his report) and a sprained ankle.
I explained his options, but cautioned that it's a bit too late for chemical
abortion and that given the unknown nature of how he *became* pregnant there's
concern about his health. It'll be an invasive surgery should he wish to terminate
at this point.
According to the scans we were able to perform with Ancient technology, everything
seems to be developing normally. That's something else I haven't mentioned before.
The technology in the city is keyed to the presence of a specific gene. I didn't
have it (surprise, surprise. The only thing my genetics have ever been good for is
a clear complexion), but Carson injected me with a therapy a few weeks after I
arrived and it took. This makes me one of the lucky ones, since apparently it
fails in over half the recipients. Having the gene has made things so much easier.
It allows me to use diagnostic equipment that's so much better than anything I'm used
to. The blood pressure monitor alone is a thing of beauty.
I think poor Dr. Parrish spent the second half of his visit in shock. When I asked
if he had any idea who the other parent was, he turned red and mumbled something I
couldn't catch. Turns out the likely 'father' (Dr. Parrish wouldn't give me a name,
but I managed to gather it's a he.) is on leave courtesy of the Daedalus.
He's due back in a few days. I told Dr. Parrish to come back once they've had a
chance to discuss things.
So I've come back to my quarters, to try to make it make sense. Because it just
doesn't.
~ Laura
- - -
August 10, Atlantis
Dear Jane,
Apparently my life is destined to continue getting stranger. Today I met with Dr.
Parrish and an uncomfortable USAF officer in Carson's office. They're keeping the
baby. I've restricted Dr. Parrish to the planet until I can find information on
how gate travel effects fetal development, if it exists. Major Lorne will begin
making the necessary arrangements (Yes, the team leader I mentioned before is the
'father'. What is it with sleeping with your ranking military officer on these
teams?). I'll be meeting with Dr.'s Weir & McKay to discuss the situation in the
next few days. Col. Sheppard is their problem.
I came to the conclusion that I will view this as a case study and hope it proceeds
smoothly. This took several hours and two slices of chocolate cake to accomplish
(Daedalus was in a few days ago. I'm told the chocolate won't last.).
Because the only case study I have for background is McKay's. And his case was
far from normal, even excepting that he's male.
From Carson's reports, I've concluded it's a miracle the McKay baby was born fully
human. Between the amounts of caffeine Dr. McKay regularly ingests (Given the
pregnancy was discovered in its sixth month, Carson didn't bother attempting to
control intake at that point), the stimulants administered during the city-wide
crisis at the four month mark, and the wraith enzyme he was injected with on two
seperate occasions in the week before the discovery of his 'condition'... Sarah's
apparent normalcy is just incredible. And also nothing to base further cases upon.
I hope this little one is as lucky. Because I have not a clue how any of this is
going to proceed, or even if Dr. Parrish will carry to term. This is way outside
my realm of experience. I hate research.
~ Laura
- - - - - - - - - -
August 3, Suburb outside Calgary, AB
Dear Doctor,
I hadn't thought about the time lag when I wrote before. It will make correspondance
rather strange, all of our responses being one month behind. Well, that is if you
wish to correspond. You may very well inform me with your next letter that I'm to
destroy everything that comes through. In which case I will.
It was a slow day at work today. The city's finally gotten itself calmed down
again from the insanity that is Stampede. Barring interesting news at work,
I thought I'd give you a general update on what's going on in the news.
Our Prime Minister has changed since you left. We now have a liberal majority
again. The attempted over-turning of the Gay Marriage
Law failed. The government's approved another forced acquiesence from the First
Nations on a new oil field. The Middle East is as turbulent as it always is.
Did you follow anything on television? Anything I can keep you updated on? My
husband has been ecstatic the last few weeks over news that a spinoff to
Wormhole X-Treme is coming out in October. Do you like science fiction?
Law & Order, my one guilty pleasure, is promising to be an interesting
season.
My cats, Bruce and Thomassina, have not decided what to make of this whole business
with the litter cabinet. They look at me strangely when I go rooting around for the
next batch. Well, more strangley than normal at least. They always think I'm a bit
odd. I think it's because I'm not a cat. They tolerate me, and curl up on my lap
when I do CLE entry from home, so I guess that's something.
~ Jane Cummings
- - - - - - - - - -
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