The door slammed shut as he stumbled back through. Once strength and power surged throughout his veins, his body was completely drained, like air sucked out from a balloon. His body has encountered the extreme in the past but nothing to the torturing treatment that he had undergone physically and psychologically. His face remained still and his expressions seem disfigured.
He daren't glance back. His gait looks like he has had a section of an apparatus rammed up his anus. He goes stiff-legged not daring to bend at the knees. His eyes examine the room looking for the nearest exit, like a baby deposited in a playpen. He staggered out the door and headed immediately to the lavatory. He lay in agonizing pain, nauseous and sallow looking as if he were a tramp just had a Full Monty breakfast.
He is totally confused and at the same time in misery due to the excruciating pain. He kept on wondering what the hell just happened and why did it take place.
“Oh… them scheming connive ring medical staff, they never liked me from the start, they gave me the medical and now they are free to interfere with the results and make me fail so they will be able to get rid of me. This all for the reason of my very first medical 12 years ago when they were notorious for finding unexpected problems either about your physical or emotional condition and they couldn’t discover a thing wrong with me. I was as fit as a fiddle. ”
He had a shower and put on his finest suit as he was going to treat himself to an enormous slap up meal. His muscles peered through the taut fabric outlining each muscle individually. A crackling clatter came from overhead. His name was demanded again. On this occasion he was ordered to report to the Generals Quarters immediately. He gasps for breath killing the silence. He knew his time was up. He clutched his £600 Gucci suede sleeved jacket and began his journey towards the Generals Quarters. He scans each corridor and area recalling the memories from his time here.
He passes by his quarters, stops and gazes towards the door. He has his hand positioned to release the door from the frame, to have a last look at his lodgings. The chilled air enters his body and then processes the smells to remind him of all his memories, like a computer reading a disc to tell us what it contains. The taste of enjoyment but yet bitterness swoops over taste buds making him recall his good and bad times. The voice demanded him again to go to the Generals quarters. He hurried back towards the door. As the door slammed shut behind him, he swiftly upped his marching pace to shorten the time to arrive at the Generals Quarters. His mischievous meandering brings attention to himself by the other staff. He narrowly evades several staff and obstacles in his path. He finally reached his destination.
He stands hunched up and gasping for air as if he were a man stood on a planet with no atmosphere. He recovers from his oxygen debt and knocks on the door three times and peered his head around the wood stained door and enters cautiously and vigilantly. There was silence.
The elongated dining table was laid out with sparkling silver cutlery, which reflected the light from above, with evidence of a feast that had been served up in all its glory and abandoned. The walls were lined with wooden panelling and a chandelier hung with broken chains of crystals dangling, candles burnt to their minimum. It was like a celebration had been preserved and laid stagnant and lifeless.
He hurried to a nearby chair shaking in anxiety. He demanded to know where everyone was, but no one was present except himself. He stays inactive for several minutes until it is broken when he hears the pounding footsteps, echoing towards him from the room preceding the door in front of him. This harassment is continuing it is just like the medical examination; the pulsation of the tempo increases dramatically leaving him no alternative but to hide from sight.
The metallic painted door burst open revealing the secret that is Americas most hush-hush piece of technology. He hurled back his head due to the brightness and the intensity of the colour coming from the Stargate and placed his hands over his face. The head professor handed him a pair of special glasses designed so that you can have some visibility. He looked like a clown who had been beat up by several disappointed and frustrated kids. He was told to go the changing area and acquire his new suit specially designed for space travel.
The walls were cold and damp, the area lacked light and the walls stood covered in cracks and mould. His mind was engrossed on the spider's web that had been developing in the left hand corner. In the web was a fly immobile. He was trapped with no escape from his future.
He made one irreversible mistake and he would suffer the consequences for what he had to come. The spider, on the other hand was strong and focused. The spider moved with a very smooth, collective approach towards his victim. The spider was powerful, large, and confident whilst the fly was now not a creature but just another meal. The spider quickened his rhythm along the thin thread of success.
Startled by an ear-splitting bang he careered backwards, and then a knock at the door. He knew trouble would be expected on the other side, as the entire day has been a nightmare an unforgettable experience. Now he felt like he was the fly stuck in the room and in a mess that he doesn’t understand yet. His breath quickened and his body quivered. He departed from the room.
There he stood. A scientist assigned to the SG1-team due to his vast knowledge of past ancient civilisations and mythology, about to go where no other human had gone before, through an artificial worm hole to the planet of Abydos, to retrieve the element Naquada a quartzite metal. He stays motionless. Like a soldier in a sentry box guarding the Queen, not daring to move even though he was sweating profusely. His nerves were on edge. He didn't know if it was through fear or excitement. His stomach was performing what felt like sideways, sickening, scary somersaults, his teeth were chatting uncontrollably. In the centre of a large, warm but damp chamber, he still stands to attention. He is now engulfed in a spiral of red lights circling above his head. He is mesmerised by the kaleidoscope of colours swirling around in the Stargate. A reverberating voice coming from each speaker at each corner intercepts his ear passages and brings him back to reality.
The noise repeatedly whirled around. He finally figured out this perplexing preparation. He knew he would be chosen for this, but he didn’t know how to set about preparing for it. He was told a message not spoke in English, within seconds it was deciphered. He had his orders. He exhaled, then took in a deep breath, cocked his gun and took his first step towards the unknown.
