City of the Gods

by Stargate

  It took a little under three hours for Sam and the children to reach the hot springs cave. They would have arrived even sooner but for the ruptured ground and partial blockages in the tunnel; Xalotcan was tearing itself apart from the inside out.

  The children, uncomplaining as ever, sat down quietly in a group. Filthy, emotionally exhausted, footsore from the trek over hot and broken ground, the weary look in their eyes was replaced by wide smiles and coos of delight when White-owl distributed the chocolate.

  When Heart-eater showed her the stash of sticky oxitl, Sam was tempted to lather herself in the stuff and head straight out onto the ice field, but first she needed to see what conditions were like. Despite her relatively thin clothing and the deadly cold, she could survive a quick reconnoiter knowing there'd be a hot bath when she got back to the cave. After all, the Polar Plunge involved getting naked and wet in minus forty.

  "Stay here," she ordered Welch. "I'll be back in ten minutes."

  "Ma'am?"

  "Just going to check the weather."

  He sent her a doubtful look, but she climbed out of the cave and joggedup the tunnel. Although it was hard to breathe, running would get her circulation moving before she hit the frigid air - except the temperature remained more or less constant. That didn't make any sense, particularly since it was already uncomfortably warm.

  The tunnel grew darker. And warmer. What had happened to the bioluminescent organisms? Had she misjudged the time of day? Maybe it was already night outside. Or worse, this high up in the mountains, the clouds from the volcano could have closed in on the valley. The gray ash on the floor of the tunnel became thicker. Why ash and not pumice? The bums on her face started to sting with the heat.

  In the outer cavern, the ash was so thick that it lifted into the air around her face as she waded through. Sam tore a strip of cloth from her filthy shirt and wrapped it across her nose and mouth so as not to inhale the light, airborne particles. Not a trace of bioluminescence remained. And the cavern was much larger; the ice had vanished. Her labored breathing was not only from exertion, but also from a creeping dread. She reached the entrance and looked out. "Oh my God!"

  Clouds of blue-black boiled low across the sky, blocking out all but faint scraps of the late afternoon sunlight. But it was bright enough to see the full impact of the cataclysm.

  Sam didn't know much about volcanoes, but she remembered the photos taken around Mt St Helens after the 1980 eruption. A pyroclastic cloud had gored the valley, flattening everything in its path with the efficacy of a nuke. The Stargate valley now looked much the same. All of the enormous trees were gone, stripped from the ground as if by a giant scythe, and flung against rocky outcrops like matchsticks. One tree near the cave had been over twenty feet in diameter. All that remained was a splintery apparition. And everything was covered in thick ash. The `gate was no longer submerged beneath a lake of frozen water; it was visible again, a ghostly ring in a sea of copper-tinted gray. For behind it all, Popocatepetl's cinder cone was bleeding incandescent rivers of lava. Xalotcan was hemorrhaging.

  She pushed through the ash outside the cave and looked north. Her heart almost stopped. A glowing snake of molten rock was making its way down the valley. At the speed it was traveling... Abandoning the mental calculus, Sam ran back into the cave and down the tunnel. Ripping the cloth from her face she screamed, "Welch! White-owl, get everyone up here now. Run! "

  Slipping and skidding on the misbegotten sandals, Sam knew their chances of making it through the thick ash that covered the valley floor were next to nil. But they had no choice. It was make the attempt and maybe die, or wait until Xalotcan tore itself to shreds, and definitely die.

  Then she saw the ruddy glow, and felt the blast of heat from the tunnel they'd walked up. Oh please God, no!

  "Chalchi?" called White-owl running towards her. He held Twowater in his arms. Her dark brown eyes were wide, and her face and hands were covered in gooey chocolate. A stream of children clambered out of the cavern, Welch and the jaguar warriors bringing up the rear.

  The look on Sam's face must have been enough, because they broke into a run when she yelled, "We have to get out of here, now!"

  "Major?" Welch caught up with her.

  "Everyone out?" she demanded breathlessly-

  Heart-eater and a warrior ran up to them. "We are the last, Chalchi."

  "Then run as fast as you can. We have to reach the `gate. Lava is coming down the valley!"

  Heart-eater looked at her, confused.

  "Mictlantecuhtli is going to...to eat the Chappa'ai!"

  The warrior looked over her shoulder at the slowly moving river of magma flowing up the tunnel. He paled and then broke into a dead run. Welch went to say something but Sam snapped, "Save your breath, Sergeant!"

  They reached the outer cavern, sucking painfully for every molecule of oxygen. The children and warriors stood clustered at the entrance, staring up the valley. The lava was moving fast. It had already engulfed the area where the frying pan lake had once been. If they'd been running ahead of it, they might have been able to outpace it, but from this angle it was questionable which of them would reach the `gate first.

  "C'mon!" Sam grabbed White-owl by the arm and started pulling him along. He clutched his sister and shook his head.

  Sam turned. Like the others, White-owl was wide-eyed and frozen into immobility. Even the warriors stubbornly shook their heads and began backing into the cave. This was insane! They couldn't stop. "You have to come, now! I'm going to open the Chappa'ai and take you to ... Omeyocan. If you stay here, Mictlantecuhtli will get you anyway. It...he's coming up the tunnel!"

  Support came from an unexpected quarter. "Do you disobey the word of our goddess?" yelled Heart-eater. "I have seen with my own eyes how Quetzalcoatl and Chalchi have gone through the Chappa'ai!"

  Rumbles echoed around the valley. Everyone's eyes turned to the strange lightning that tore through the purple and black clouds, lashing the fractured rim of Popocatepetl. Heart-eater used the distraction to snatch Two-water from White-owl's arms. The apprentice priest ran down the slope to the lake, sending clouds of ash billowing around him. Two-water screamed in mortal terror and fought desperately to escape the clutches of the one who had threatened to sacrifice her to Tzcatlipoca. Angered beyond reason, White-owl chased after them, but his stocky legs were no match against the longer-limbed Heart-eater. Welch grabbed two of the younger children, one in each arm, while Sam picked up a boy of about six. Ignoring her body's demand for oxygen, she set out after Heart-eater across the lake.

  The pyroclastic cloud that had melted the lake in its superheated path had also burst the moraine dam at the southern end of the valley. While the rubble had been carried away, the oven-hot ash had mixed with the water to form a soft, squelchy gray paste that now covered the valley floor, right up to the base of the Stargate. Running on it wasn't easy; nevertheless it was better than wading through hot ash. It also gave Sam renewed hope.

  With his lighter body and lungs conditioned to the thin air, Heart-eater swiftly reached the `gate. He placed the still screaming Two-water on the muddy ground by the half-buried DHD, and ran back - straight past White-owl, who stopped and stared at him in amazement.

  White-owl's expression altered when he realized how he had been tricked. He yelled at Two-water, "Stay there, little sister!" and followed Heart-eater back past Sam.

  Chancing a look over her shoulder, Sam saw the other children were right on her heels. The older ones began passing her. Then came the jaguar warriors, each one carrying petrified children in their arms.

  Sam's lungs felt like they were filled with splintered glass. Her head pounded, demanding oxygen, but she couldn't stop. The lava had slowed somewhat as it entered the wide valley, but it was still only fifty feet from the DHD - about the same distance as her. A warrior ran back to her and took the boy from her arms like a relay runner. She kicked off the now broken sandals and ran barefoot over the last twenty feet, sucking hot air from th
e sickly face of the lava rolling relentlessly towards them. Barely able to see the symbols on the DHD, her head spinning from lack of oxygen, she took precious seconds to make certain the address was correct.

  "Get back," Welch ordered the children and warriors. "To the side of the `gate, away from the vortex." But there were few places to go. And none of them understood what `vortex' meant.

  "Close up, close up ranks!" Sam pulled the children around her and hit the center nub. The event horizon shot out and snapped back into place. She punched in the IDC and waved Welch through. He picked up two children and plunged into the welcoming blue pool. White-owl grabbed his sister and hesitating only a moment, followed. The warriors also faltered, but the heat of the lava was already singeing the hair on their jaguar skins. They herded the children through until finally, only Sam and Heart-eater remained. She took his hand and, with one last glance up at the magma oozing from the tunnel through which they'd fled, stepped into the wormhole.

  Cold Sweet, painful cold. The swirling patterns of light flew past on her journey across the galaxy. But Sam didn't see them. The sick agony of realization was ripping her heart out as effectively as any fire priest. Two hours behind her, deep within the labyrinthine tunnels, the Colonel, Daniel and Teal'c had been unable to escape ahead of the relentless magma. They had met the same horrific fate as those left behind in the skull cave.

  They were dead.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  he metronomic ticking in General Vidrine's office continued long after her words had ceased. Sam sat stiffly, her eyes focused on the photograph of a Tomcat mounted on the wall behind the General. Its presence there no doubt puzzled visitors, a talking point for the curious. She idly wondered what their reaction would be if he replaced it with a picture of the X-302.

  Colonel Burnett's voice cut through the silence. "How are the children?"

  A strange, bittersweet sensation came over her. She silently thanked Burnett for focusing on the only thing to mitigate her failure.

  "They're still in quarantine at the SGC," replied General Hammond. "But they're going to be fine."

  "They're very resilient," said Sam. "More so than most children." More so than I.

  "The... jaguar warriors?"

  "Now that they understand the true nature of the Goa'uld, they're dedicated to taking care of the children; the last of their people," Hammond replied. "The Salish have offered them a home."

  "Why the Salish?" Burnett looked confused. "Why not the Hopi or one of the other Nahuatl tribes?"

  "Not the Salish of Earth," Hammond said. "PXY-887."

  Burnett went to speak, paused, then tried again. "How can you be certain Xalotcan was destroyed? If your only access was via this... Stargate - "

  "Major Carter's father arrived in a tel'tak - a small cargo ship - less than twenty-four hours later." Hammond glanced at Sam. "He sent back a full report."

  "Cargo ship? General Jacob Carter?" Searching vainly for something sensible to add, Burnett blurted, "I thought he'd retired."

  "Dad's not entirely human anymore. He's the host for a leader in the Tok'ra resistance. The Tok'ra are a type of symbiote that's biologically identical but philosophically opposed to the Goa'uld. They have a number of interstellar capable ships." But none that can turn back time.

  Burnett stared at her, his lips moving ineffectually. Eventually he managed, "Vertical learning curve, huh."

  General Vidrine stood, signaling the meeting was over. "Then you better get started, Colonel."

  During the trip down the elevator, Sam watched Burnett attempt to grapple with what he'd just learned. He settled on the one thing in his world that had remained unchanged, his role as her new commanding officer. "You're reporting back to Cheyenne Mountain tonight?" he said.

  "Yes, sir. Due to the security situation they've requested that I assist in sterilizing Colonel O'Neill's house and Dr Jackson's apartment." Then she would speak at their service and push the wreaths into the blue-gray event horizon, to travel through a wormhole now forbidden to her. Finally, she would attend a second service, one with an empty coffin in a military cemetery, and salute while six jets flew overhead, and then one peeled off into space.

  How apt.

  Would the Colonel's ex-wife accept the ritually folded American flag? She should know the answer; she knew military protocol, chapter and verse. It had proved an excellent shield, an excuse to deny so many things.

  "Piece of advice, Major."

  "Sir?"

  "When I lost my commanding officer - he wasn't a hell of a lot older than me, maybe ten years - but after what we'd been through, it was worse than losing my father." Burnett shook his head. "And my buddies. It wasn't just the whole brother's in arms thing; it was something more. I thought nothing could be worse, until I had my own command and had to send kids, hardly old enough to shave, home in body bags."

  He met her stiffly controlled look, and then added, `By the time you report to me, I'll have read your file - the real one - and I'll be in a better position to understand the work you've been doing. But Major, being a military officer does not stop you from being human. If you ever feel a need to talk to someone - "

  The elevator door opened. "Thank you, sir." She saluted, and pulled on her overcoat. Outside, it was still snowing.

  "I...I apologize for being so abrupt. Before," said Dr Carter.

  "I'm sorry?" Sam looked up from the generator the Colonel had made when he'd had the knowledge of the Ancients downloaded into his mind. She shared a look with Dr Carter and laughed nervously. "Weird, huh," she added, wondering how anyone, especially herself, could be bothered with such long hair. "I mean, I don't have to say that because you're thinking - "

  - the same thing. Yeah."

  "But there are differences. Of course. That's why you're here."

  Dr Carter's smile froze.

  Sam didn't see her facial expressions every day to read herself as well as others could. But still, she knew. "I...what did I say?"

  "Nothing." The reply, too quick. Dr Carter's shoulders drooped. "No hiding it, I guess."

  "It's okay. I know when I get like that I'm the last person I want to talk to. Work is easier."

  "How could you have joined the Air Force after...?" Dr Carter's words made it sound like a betrayal. "I hated him, I could never forgive him."

  "It wasn't Dad's fault," said Sam.

  "He was driving!"

  Sam's fingers hesitated a moment. "I blamed Dad for not picking up Mom on time. In this world, she caught a cab. Same outcome."

  Dr Carter visibly paled. "It's not events that change history, but how we react to them. God, all of this really is my fault."

  "No!" Sam was vehement. "If Daniel had not found the mirror on MR-233, we'd be in the same mess." She paused. "Guess you couldn't have hated the Air Force that much, huh?"

  "Guess not." A quick, sad smile flittered across Dr Carter's face. "Worked for it, married into it..." Her gaze faltered and she stared at the machine.

  Sam followed her look. "I'm not sure this can be fixed. Half the components are so fried I can't tell what they are."

  "Nothing is so badly broken inside that it can't be fixed."

  "You obviously never met a man named Jonas." Sam continued to stare at the engine. The Harley had been scrapped asjunk, broken beyond repair. But she'd always been good at fixing things, and it had proved cathartic, a simple, mechanical puzzle to solve.

  She looked up. "Thanks for your help, Sergeant."

  Siler was just tightening the last nut. "Yeah, no sweat, Major."

  Sam stood and wiped the grease from her hands. Time to ride.

  The machine climbed the hills with ease, despite the thin mountain air. She opened the throttle. The wind bit into her exposed face, a cold so intense that it burned. She leaned low and forward. Why wasn't her bike helmet protecting her against the burning cold? So cold, the world around her was frozen, a fantasy woodland. His cabin should be up ahead. What was she doing there? Coffee. That's ri
ght. He'd offered to make her a cup of coffee. Couldn't very well sit on a dock with her feet perched up, sipping a cold one. The dock was probably under thirty foot of ice and snow, and she'd have to use the geologists' laser to cut through it. Maybe she could use his fishing rod to cast for the elusive DHD. It was under the ice, somewhere, she was certain. She had to find it before it was too late.

  The ice forest closed in around her, dark, warm - too warm, and she couldn't seem to get her breath in the thin air. The cabin was just around the next bend. They would all be right there, waiting for her. The Colonel, Daniel and Teal'c. She turned the comer, but the cabin was gone, they were all gone, engulfed by a lake of molten lava.

  Stifling a gasp, Sam lifted her head from her arms, pushed the chair back and restlessly prowled around the lab. The lab, not her lab. Couldn't fall asleep again, had to keep moving. If she stopped for any length of time, everything inside of her would seize up until she could no longer function. And that wasn't her. She was made of stronger stuff than that. So said her father in the blur of days after her mother's death, when her world had been someplace else and she inhabited an other-dimensional existence of pain alternating with numbness. And there was no way back, no way home, now that she had been transferred to the Prometheus Project.

  She picked up a box and began searching for something that did not belong to the Air Force. Machinery, computers, manuals, even the coffee cup; none of it was hers. She stared at the chipped mug. Someone would have to go up to the cabin, make sure it was carefully sanitized, just like everything else about his and Daniel's lives.

  Daniel. More than anyone he had humanized them. How many times had Daniel's insight saved them when a dispassionate, tactically correct military decision would have destroyed them, and Earth? What would the SGC do with all of his amazing journals, the artifacts he'd collected from a hundred worlds?