“Thank you, Colonel Carter. You have taken a great burden from my shoulders. I believe I am better prepared to tell General O’Neill of my plans. Although it will be painful to step away from the fight, I must accept that my presence is needed elsewhere.”
“Happy to help. You know, on Chulak, when a great warrior retires from the field of battle, it’s customary to sing a song of lament.”
Teal’c tensed. “We are not on Chulak.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at him and assumed what she hoped was a stoic expression.
Her phone rang before he could respond to the mockery, and she chuckled as she walked over to answer it. “Carter.” Her amusement faded. “Now? I’ll be right there. Teal’c is with me.” She hung up and turned back to face Teal’c. “Apparently Bellee is contacting us with important information.”
Teal’c lifted his chin and followed her out of the room. “Do you believe there has been a complication with the device?”
Sam knew he was asking if Kali’s failsafe had been activated. If it had, Teal’c ran a huge risk just by accompanying her to the control room. “I don’t know. We can only hope it’s something smaller and less catastrophic.”
General O’Neill and Daniel were already in the control room when Sam and Teal’c arrived. The video screens mounted throughout the room displayed Bellee’s bulldog visage. He was holding the recorder at arm’s length in front of him, squinting at the screen as if he could use it to see through the event horizon. O’Neill turned to see their arrival and then faced forward again.
“Okay, Belly, they’re all here. What’s so important?”
“It’s Buh-lee, and I’ll have you know that it has been very unpleasant speaking with you. I don’t know if there’s an official complaint I can make, or if there’s someone else there I can talk to, but your attitude is extremely — ”
O’Neill snapped, “Bellee! The reason you called…”
“Oh. Right. Yes. SG-1? You’re all there, right?”
“That’s what I just said,” Jack muttered.
“I heard that.”
O’Neill tilted his head back and rolled his eyes to the heavens.
“SG-1! Anton Bellee here.”
“They can see you,” O’Neill said with a tone usually reserved for children.
Bellee said, “I got in contact with some of my associates who are attending Wyrrick’s party. I have some information that you’re not going to like. But! But I also thought of a solution to it as well, so don’t panic.”
Daniel said, “That’s promising. What’s the problem?”
“Earlier I said that they wouldn’t take kindly to Tau’ri crashing the party. Well… it’s a little deeper than that. Turns out if a Tau’ri goes to Wyrrick’s party, there’s a very good chance they won’t come back. I couldn’t figure out if they meant death or taking prisoners and frankly I didn’t feel very much like pushing. But there is good news!”
“Can’t wait to hear it,” Sam said.
“With a very simple voice modulator, Colonel Carter, you could pass as a Goa’uld. I happen to have two pieces of information that could help you pull it off. One, I know who has been invited, and I happen to know one of them is in no physical position to attend the party.” He paused. “She’s dead.”
“We got that,” Daniel said.
“And it’s not common knowledge. I can provide you with a modulator if you need one, for a very reasonable price. All you have to do is show up and claim you’re her new host.”
Sam sighed. “Is this going to affect my costume at all?”
“No, it shouldn’t. Goa’uld can get away with pretty much anything when it comes to style. I mean, my goodness, that thing Zipacna wore on his head for so long? I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was supposed to be ornamental.”
Sam closed her eyes. “Okay. Who am I supposed to be?”
“Callisto.”
Daniel was already in motion. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
O’Neill dismissed him with a nod. He looked at the screen again. “Well, Bellee, I suppose we owe you our thanks for bringing this to our attention.”
Bellee said, “Well, I didn’t do it for the gratitude, but a little — ”
“Great.” O’Neill slashed two fingers across his throat, and Walter disconnected the gate in the middle of Bellee’s declaration of humbleness. He turned to Sam. “Are you up for this?”
She nodded. “All it should take is a voice modulator. If they have any sort of security to go through, the markers left from Jolinar should get me past. Hopefully Teal’c and Daniel can provide enough backstory for me to bluff if I need to.”
“Right. And speaking of Daniel and Teal’c, how exactly can we explain their presence? A mask might help you and Daniel, but Teal’c is basically a celebrity. The kind of people I assume will be attending this soiree will recognize him no matter what disguise we try to give him.”
Sam looked at Teal’c. “We can claim that he was captured and brainwashed.”
Teal’c said, “Recently, as support for the Free Jaffa has risen, several Goa’uld have begun experimenting with mental manipulation. I believe it would be plausible for one to have succeeded.”
Sam nodded uneasily. “We can just say Callisto found a way to change even the most stubbornly convinced mind. If it were true, she would definitely want to show him off like a trophy. If that’s acceptable to you, of course, Teal’c. I don’t want to force you to go along with a plan that would make you uncomfortable.”
Teal’c inclined his head in agreement. “I can bear it for the greater good,” he said. “As for Daniel Jackson, despite Bellee’s insistence that no Tau’ri may attend, I believe exceptions will be made for lo’taurs.”
“What’s a Goa’uld without a human slave, eh?” O’Neill said. “Looks like this mission is shaping up to be a real wingding for you, Carter.”
She smiled mirthlessly. “Oh, definitely sir. What little girl doesn’t dream of being a Goa’uld for a day?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Dysmas Wyrrick slept thirteen hours a day when he truly wanted to spoil himself. Anything he couldn’t get done in the remaining fourteen hours wasn’t worth his time. After waking he accessed his files from the bedside management screen before he finally threw back the blankets and rose as if meeting a challenger for fisticuffs. He extended his arms out in front of him, twisted at the waist, and let out a satisfied sigh at the stretch of tight muscles. For the past few years, his time had been filled with meetings. He was constantly trying to set up meetings with one Goa’uld that didn’t overlap with one of their enemies, avoiding conflicts on his front step, conducting long and tedious negotiations with First Primes and majordomos. Now his days were mostly empty, dull, boring. That was the public purpose of throwing a party and inviting the bulk of his client list. He could show off his treasures, maybe sell a few things to make some money, and maybe he would find something to occupy his time now that the System Lords were out of the picture. Of course his true purpose was something far grander than a simple exhibition. He had wealth and respect, but he lacked any kind of true power. Hopefully that would all change after the party.
He dressed in clothes that would have constituted the finest outfit in almost anyone else’s wardrobe and left his master chambers. Perhaps he would take a walk to clear his mind. His party was in two days and he felt as if there were still a hundred thousand decisions to be made. He had only just recently settled on a caterer after an extremely detailed search through a myriad of potential chefs. The food was an utterly important piece of his party’s success; no one would care about admiring his riches if the food made them retch. His final choice was due to arrive that afternoon, and he couldn’t wait to taste their sample meals to ensure he had made the right decision.
Wyrrick was a monument of a man, nearly six and a half feet tall with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. The muscles of his gut had gone to flab, leaving him self-conscious about his midsection, but he was rich enough t
o afford tailors who could hide his paunch. His hair was thick, peppered with grey so that it became the color of ash, and his chin jutted out in front of him like the prow of a great ship. In the past, no more than five Goa’uld had offered to take him as host. When directness failed they tried subterfuge and coercion, had offered him riches beyond his wildest dreams, but he’d shaken them all off time and again. He could have stayed young and pretty forever with one of them riding his spine, but he was starting to enjoy the dignity that came with age.
He followed the curved corridor from his bedroom to the tranquility grotto and slowed to enjoy the view out the windows. This side of the house faced the ocean, and he could see that the sea was calm as glass this morning, visible as a thin blue ribbon along the horizon just beyond the edge of the cliffs. He owned the entire region, purchased for a flat fee and then kept up through taxes and fees from the inhabitants. He had already earned back what he’d paid for the land but the money kept coming in. It was as if he had built his home inside a well that never ran dry.
In two days, his home would be filled with dignitaries and representatives of several key players in the new galactic order. The Lucian Alliance represented the thieves and brigands; old rulers who had paid homage to their Goa’uld overlords for generations would find themselves courting a new overlord; he’d even extended the invitation to a few select Jaffa just to cover his bases in case their new government found its footing before they were overwhelmed by new enemies. His advisors urged him to invite some displaced System Lords, and he overcame his initial misgivings to send out invites to a few choice names. The party was intended to show those left behind that things had changed, but just because the Goa’uld had been defeated was no reason to shun them as individuals. Those who were in a position to attend a party could prove to be good assets in the future.
When he reached the grotto the central lighting fixture had already been activated by his hardworking household staff. He stepped inside and took his standard position next to the structure. Waves of undulating white, purple, blue, and silver light cascaded upward toward the ceiling in a liquid rhythm. Wyrrick felt himself slipping away into blissful distraction as he tracked its movements. His eyes glazed over and a dull smile spread across his features as he watched the light bend and fold and twist around itself.
“Master Wyrrick.”
It was absolutely gorgeous… weaker-willed individuals could lose entire hours staring into the shine, but Wyrrick was mostly immune to its effects. There were other devices which induced an addiction in those who partook of its enjoyment, but he’d had his one specially designed to prevent that. The light still found a way to utterly engross him, to wrap around his brain like a blanket and take away his concerns and worries. It was an easy way to clear his mind in case he needed to tackle a particularly…
“Master!”
He blinked and turned to find his aide, Athen, standing beside him. He was suddenly assaulted by the strength of his hunger, and through the open door behind Athen he could see that the sun had made quite a bit of progress across the sky since his arrival in the grotto. He shook his head to clear the lingering cobwebs and turned to face his assistant fully.
“Yes?”
“Apologies, Master Wyrrick. You wished to be informed when the workers for the party began arriving.” He removed a small pad from the breast pocket of his uniform jacket. “The landscapers are outside and I have already started them preparing the garden, we have the interior decorators coming to set up display cases for your treasures, and the chef is here to meet you before she begins work.”
“And the grand finale?”
“Everything is prepared. The items you requested are safely locked away upstairs.”
Wyrrick clapped his hands together. “Fantastic! And you said the chef is here as well? Where did you leave her?”
Athen led Wyrrick through the house, purposefully choosing a route that took them through his collection rooms. Soon decorators would transfer all of this finery to their proper positions in rooms where his guests could enjoy them without worrying about the security systems sounding. But for now they were nestled within vaults in the private section of his home. He passed some of his most prized items — a golden altar that had stood in one of Ra’s temples, a bladed weapon that had once been displayed above Khonsu’s throne, a stately throne crowned by a representation of Ba’al’s symbol backlit with a glowing blue globe — and smiled as he remembered acquiring each one. Athen was accustomed to his master’s ruminations and slowed his pace to keep from getting too far ahead.
Eventually they passed through the vaults and arrived at their destination. The kitchen occupied its own wing, covering more ground than most private residences. The machinery gleamed, appliances looking as if they had been formed from pure light. Wyrrick assumed he paid people to come in and clean everything but he had never seen them, nor did he want to. Athen had been hired to take care of those small things for him.
At the moment the only other people in the cavernous kitchen were two women standing near the burner top. One wore a lovely outfit befitting her former position with the Jade Emperor; a red blouse with yellow piping, billowing black slacks, and the look was completed with the dark hair which hung loose on her shoulders. When she turned, Wyrrick was surprised to see how beautiful she was. The woman with her was equally beautiful, wearing a matching outfit and leaning against the counter with a disinterested air. They looked similar enough to be sisters, but he had no doubt which of them was the woman in charge.
Wyrrick smiled. “Ai Okano, I presume, late of Lord Yu’s scullery. It is an honor to have you here in my home. I am Dysmas Wyrrick, but you may of course call me Dys.”
Okano smiled. “It’s an honor to be chosen for such a prestigious event. Considering our competition we didn’t hold out much hope that we would be fortunate enough to win.”
“Between the people in this room, your competition all had an unusual amount of disqualifying information in their records. Some of them tried to hide it, but there is no hole too deep to hide from my hounds. You should be grateful you cleared the examination.”
Okano shrugged. “I’m not surprised. Lord Yu brooked no controversy. We were forced to remain above reproach lest we be relieved of duty.”
“Excellent. I’m glad to hear it.” He looked at the assistant. “And I assume she will be helping you on the evening of the party?”
“Yes, this is my associate and right-hand woman, Oshin Kaori.”
“A pleasure to meet you, madam.”
Kaori grinned, showing her teeth. When she spoke it was with an accent he couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Oh, yes, it’s an honor, sir.”
“Now, I don’t want to get onto a touchy subject, and I know that the Tau’ri wasn’t one of the great many worlds under Yu’s dominion. However, I must confirm…”
“We’re both Hebridian,” Okano said. “We left home early to find more exotic culinary worlds, and along the way we ended up in Yu’s domain.”
“Good, good, good. I just want to make certain the party is Tau’ri free. I mean, I’m as open as the next man when it comes to that sort of thing, but some of my guests… I mean, those SG teams cut straight to the bone of the galaxy in the past few years, you know? For a lot of people who will be at the party, those wounds are still fresh.”
“I completely understand,” Okano said. “We lost our god. If any Tau’ri even think about crashing this party, we’ll have a special treat prepared just for them.”
Wyrrick laughed and pointed at her. “You. I like the way you think. You’re definitely officially hired to provide catering to my party. Congratulations. This kitchen is now your domain. Everything you find here is yours for the taking, just let me know if you need any supplies refreshed or if there’s something special you need for the menu. The galaxy’s pantry is just a Stargate away. I’ll check in later.”
“We’ll have a few items ready for you to taste by this afternoon.”
&n
bsp; “Excellent, excellent.” He clapped his hands together. “I have a good feeling about this.”
Kaori said, “Oh, so do we, Mr. Wyrrick.”
He laughed and winked at her, then motioned for Athen to follow him out of the kitchen. He paused in front of the large glass windows and looked over his shoulder to make sure the women were out of earshot.
“Lovely choices, my friend. Be sure they don’t venture upstairs for any reason. I would hate for anyone to spoil the grand finale of my big night.”
“Of course.”
Wyrrick leaned closer to the glass and pointed at something in the sky. “What do you think that is? Bird?”
Athen followed the line of his employer’s finger to a small black shape just as it disappeared into a cloud bank. “Yes, sir. A bird.”
“Huh. I’ve never really liked birds. Except for the ones which find their way onto my plate.” He tugged at the lapels of his shirt and rolled his shoulders. “All this talk about food has made me hungry. Why don’t you go into town and see what the bakery has rolled out today?”
“As you wish, sir.”
Athen bowed sharply and left, but Wyrrick waited a moment to watch when the flying object emerged from the clouds. The wings were rigid, and it seemed to be flying on an artificially straight trajectory that most animals wouldn’t have bothered with.
“Most peculiar bird I’ve ever seen.”
He shook his head and patted his stomach as he walked away. He was no ornithologist, but he thought birds had to flap their wings every once in a while even if they were riding a current. Perhaps it was a guest arriving early, or maybe it was in fact a bird in flight. Either way he would be certain to alert his security officers to the potential issue. But first, he would return to the Grotto to finish what Athen had so rudely interrupted.
“UAV feed is live,” Sam said, looking away from the Stargate to watch the aerial footage of Wyrrick’s planet. The planet’s Stargate stood in the foothills outside a small village, but according to the intelligence they received from Bellee, Wyrrick lived on an estate near the coast well away from the common people. They had anticipated security measures or surveillance at the gate, but there didn’t seem to be anything of that nature impeding their arrival.
SG1-24 Two Roads Page 19
