Stargate SG1 - Roswell Read Online Free PDF Page B

In his hand was a cup and saucer that looked like escapees from Great Aunt Gertrude's tea set. A sliver of lemon bobbed around the surface of the clear, dark fluid.
     
    While Walter's mind reading capabilities were well known, Jack suspected that in this instance General Carter had given the sergeant a heads up.
     
    Walter placed the tea on the table then followed through with two coffees and a platter of Danish, before quietly leaving via Landry's—Jack had never thought of it as his, even when it had been—office.
     
    “Well.” He rubbed his hands together the moment the door behind him had closed. “This is cozy. You were saying about the mess, Herbert...?”
     
    “Oh. Yes, of course, I'm sorry,” Carter said without the slightest hint of apology. “Major General Jack O'Neill, this is Herbert George.”
     
    Herbert offered him an outstretched hand. Parchment skin and fine-boned fingers didn't detract from the old man's firm grip. “We've met before, of course,” he supplied.
     
    “Ah...not yet,” Carter corrected, sending Jack a slightly uneasy look which, he was certain, was designed to have him second guessing his uncertainty about her motivations. “It's a time travel thing. It can get a little confusing.”
     
    Jack sat down at the head of the table, where Walter had left his coffee waiting for him. He inhaled the caffeine fumes, hoping they'd exorcise the damned woodpeckers. “No. Really?”
     
    If Herbert was in any way put out by Jack's brand of sarcasm, he didn't show it, while Carter said simply, “You know, you haven't changed a bit.”
     
    “This is why I gave up all this adventuring this some years back.” Herbert patted his pocket absently. “Lost track of when I'd met people. But duty called in this instance, and what's a fellow to do?” He withdrew a chestnut colored pipe with a heavily chewed stem and placed it on the table by his tea. A few powdery tobacco cinders spilled onto the table.
     
    “Now, Herbert, we discussed this before we left,” Carter admonished. There was something else in her voice Jack now recognized, a tone half remembered from a past life that tagged him like a shadow. Sarah had spoken like that. Maternal.
     
    “Oh, don't fuss, my dear Samantha.” Herbert unfastened the hand device and placed it on the table beside his pipe. “You're as bad as that son of yours. I don't intend to ignite it.”
     
    Carter's nostrils flared in annoyance. “Herbert!”
     
    Allowing that piece of information to wash over him, Jack leaned back in his chair in the hope of finding a position that didn't make his chest feel like it'd been kicked by a mule. “Fascinating as these little glimpses of the future are, can we get back to the part where you were apologizing for the mess?”
     
    “The Priors attacked SG-1 on Bayou with a form of energy weapon,” Carter said, turning her attention from Herbert. “Their attack missed SG-1 but the beams from their staffs combined, entering the 'gate just ahead of them. The energy burst destabilized the wormhole and—”
    A knock on the outer door was followed by the appearance of a guard. Jack caught a glimpse of large dark eyes and a Cheshire cat grin peeking over the Marine's shoulder.
     
    “What have I missed so far?” Vala called. “Anything interesting?”
     
    “It's all right, Jack.” Carter waved her in. “As a member of SG-1, Vala should hear this.”
     
    “What was that you were saying about protocol?” Jack frowned, dismissing the Marine with a nod. Vala had not been an accepted member of SG-1 for very long, which told Jack that contrary to his first impression, General Carter had indeed done her homework. Any hesitation or slip of the tongue on her behalf was deliberate.
     
    “Thanks, guys.” Dialing back the wattage on her smile, Vala tossed a pair of thick ponytails oyer her shoulders, strode in like she owned the place and scooped up a Danish before pulling back the chair opposite Carter. Then she