STARGATE SG-1-19-23-Ouroboros-s08

by Melissa Scott

  Jack lay awake for some time after they turned out the lights, too aware of the lump of his pistol settled in easy reach, listening to Daniel’s heavy breathing in the other cot. It wasn’t going to be easy, getting Sumner’s permission to leave the camp in the ruined city. If he just asked to leave, Sumner was going to say no, or, at best, send him with an escort that Sheppard or SG-1 would have to deal with, and that would mean tipping their hand before he was ready. He didn’t want to make an enemy of Sumner, not while the man controlled access to both the Stargate and whatever Ancient technology remained in the city. Maybe he could use Daniel as a stalking horse, offer him as a way to undermine this Teyla Emmagan’s influence on the Athosians. Daniel wouldn’t like it, but he’d play along. Or maybe, if Beckett was ‘recovered’ — maybe he could ask to see the relief work Beckett had been doing among the Athosians? No, that was likely to get Sumner worrying about protecting the source of his drug, and that was more likely to make him keep everybody tied up in the city. No, probably the best bet was to see what he could do with Daniel.

  He rolled over, determined to sleep, but he couldn’t help thinking about the drowned city, Atlantis floating beneath a failing shield. Was that what their own expedition had found — was that what he’d sent them through to find? It was too easy to imagine, his own private disaster movie compounded of equal parts news video and Hollywood: the shields failing and the water crashing in, splintering those soaring walls of glass, bodies washed away in a tangle of blood and metal. Maybe they got out before it happened, like this expedition had done. They might be stranded on some unanticipated world, but at least they’d be alive. Even if they were being hunted by life-sucking aliens, though maybe the Wraith were specific to this universe. Jack smiled in the dark. In his experience, though, things like life-sucking aliens tended to be pretty evenly distributed across worlds.

  And maybe none of it had happened. Maybe in his own universe, Elizabeth Weir was alive and well, maybe the expedition was settling happily into a city that had never fallen below the sea, and maybe all they needed was to find a ZPM so that they could dial home again. He knew perfectly well that the better outcome was just as likely as the worse, no matter how much it felt otherwise. He turned over again, settling himself more comfortably on the thin mattress. Until he had proof, he was going to assume that they were all alive.

  “How’d you like to talk to the Athosians?” he said to Daniel as they walked toward the mess hall the next morning, and Daniel gave him a predictably dubious look.

  “You know I’d like to. What exactly do you have in mind?”

  “I was thinking we might see if you couldn’t persuade the Athosians to think more kindly of Colonel Sumner,” Jack said.

  Daniel snorted. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they’re going to buy it, and I’m not really sure I’m the guy to sell it to them, either.”

  “You’re the one who said how badly you wanted to talk to the Athosians.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want Sumner’s goons breathing down my neck while I do it.”

  And that was the problem, Jack thought. They needed to get out of the city without an escort, and the chances of that happening were slim to none.

  Sumner was still in the mess hall when they arrived, sitting at a table set a little apart from the others, looking at a laptop while Bates explained something to him and Ford and another officer hovered nervously. Jack slowed his steps as he passed within earshot and heard Ford say, “ — not enough for both patrols, sir.”

  “Smaller groups, maybe,” the other officer said, and Bates shook his head.

  “With respect, sir, it’d be better to cover more ground and keep more men together.”

  It was a gift Jack hadn’t hoped for, and he set his tray on the table beside Carter’s. She looked up, frowning as she realized he wasn’t going to sit down, and he gave them all his most rakish grin. “I’m going to have a word with the colonel,” he said, and turned away.

  Sumner looked up at his approach, frowning but not actually hostile, and Jack did his best to seem relaxed and cooperative. “Excuse me, Colonel, if I might have a word?”

  The two younger officers had gone, though Bates still fussed over something on the laptop, and Sumner pushed the nearest chair away from the table. “Of course, sir.”

  Jack seated himself and rested his elbows on the table. “I couldn’t help overhearing.” He kept his own voice low enough that it was clear he wasn’t challenging Sumner’s judgment. “If you’re short-handed — we’d be willing to help out.”

  “We’re short of men for patrols,” Sumner said. His voice was neutral.

  “We’ve done patrols,” Jack said. “We’re not exactly busy here.”

  Sumner paused. “We need Colonel Carter here in the city. McKay says she’s been very helpful. And I can’t see that Dr. Jackson is really ideal for the job.”

  “He’s been with SG-1 for eight years,” Jack said.

  “With all respect, you and Teal’c are the only real soldiers on the team,” Sumner said.

  Jack lifted his head. “I’m really glad Colonel Carter didn’t hear you say that. And that I’m not actually in your chain of command so I’d have to notice it. But I’d suggest you look over her record before you say anything that stupid again.”

  “Sorry, sir.” Sumner had the grace to look abashed, rubbing his eyes as though they pained him. “What I mean to say is, she and Jackson are more use here. But if you and Teal’c would like to join a patrol — we are short-handed, and it would be helpful.”

  Jack paused in turn. He hated splitting the team, but if he pushed any harder there was a good chance Sumner would refuse him altogether. “We’ll do that, then, Colonel.”

  “Thank you, sir.” For a moment, Sumner looked genuinely relieved. He glanced down at his laptop. “If you’d be willing to join Lieutenant Ford’s team? He leaves at 0840.”

  “We’ll be there,” Jack said, and pushed himself away from the table. It was a risk, he thought, but he was betting this was the best chance they’d have to contact Sheppard.

  Neither Daniel Jackson nor Colonel Carter were pleased with O’Neill’s plan, but both of them were quick to realize he was right. This was their best chance to allow Major Sheppard to contact them. Teal’c kept his face impassive as he and O’Neill walked to the landing where the young Marine lieutenant was collecting his patrol. They had been lucky there, Teal’c thought: Ford was still young enough to be overawed by a general, and no one was better than O’Neill at exploiting such things. The Marines had brought spare weapons for them, P90s that showed signs of field repair. Teal’c took his without comment, but O’Neill examined his carefully.

  “You’re sure these work, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “Sir!” Ford drew himself up automatically. “Colonel Sumner wants us to check the road — well, it’s really more of a path — that leads through the edge of the woods to the hills. We’re to find out if the locals have been using it lately.”

  “Using it for what?” O’Neill grabbed a handhold on the gunwale of the inflatable boat. Teal’c did the same and the entire team ran it forward into the water, the Marines scrambling easily aboard. Ford didn’t answer until they were well underway, but then he glanced over his shoulder.

  “The colonel’s worried they’re spying on us, sir. And there’s reason to believe that the bulk of the population has gone to ground up in the hills, until either the Wraith give up or we’re all killed. We’d like to confirm that.”

  “You know,” O’Neill said, “that’s one of those things maybe you don’t want to find out.”

  “Sir?”

  “You don’t want the Athosians to think you’re hunting for their women and children,” O’Neill said. “Not unless you mean to threaten them.”

  Ford hesitated, and O’Neill lifted his hands.

  “Just saying! I know you have your orders.”

  They pulled the b
oat up onto the far shore, secured it to the bank under the watchful eye of another of Sumner’s patrols. There were only two of them, and Teal’c glanced curiously back at the city. Sure enough, he could just make out a mortar in the guard post on the far side of the water. Anyone who tried to steal the boats or rush the crossing was in for an unpleasant surprise.

  There were several paths in evidence, one that led directly away from the lake and into the trees — the one that led to the Stargate, Teal’c thought — another, not much used, that skirted the shore, and a third that curved into the woods at an oblique angle, threading through the outer edges of the forest. It was that path that Ford chose, waving for them to spread out as though they were in hostile country.

  Teal’c fell easily into one of the flanking positions and O’Neill slid into place beside him, P90 resting almost lazily in his hands. “See anything?”

  “I do not. Unless you are referring to the trees.”

  O’Neill gave him a suspicious look. “Careful, T, that was almost a joke.”

  Teal’c dipped his head in acknowledgement.

  “It doesn’t look to me as though anybody’s been coming this way too often,” O’Neill went on.

  They were far enough from the others that a quiet conversation could not be overheard, at least not as more than the murmur of voices. “I agree,” Teal’c said. “But it was once in considerable use.”

  “Yeah.” O’Neill glanced to their right, where the water of the lake could just be seen through the trees. “Of course, if the Athosians try to stay away from the city —”

  “Then they would avoid this road,” Teal’c said. “Except that once it was much used. I wish Daniel Jackson were here.”

  Ford had stopped ahead of them, talking quietly into his radio, and he turned as they came up. “I wish he was, too. Not having somebody who could talk to the locals — that’s been our biggest problem since we got here.”

  “Well, maybe next time,” O’Neill said easily. “Who was acting as your liaison?”

  “Dr. Weir at first, sir,” Ford answered. “And Major Sheppard. Everything was going fine until we told them we wanted to move into the city.”

  “If it mattered that much to the Athosians, why didn’t you compromise, stay out of the city except to try to find a ZPM?”

  Teal’c thought O’Neill already knew the answer, but he, too, was curious as to the young lieutenant’s version of the story.

  Ford grimaced. “That’s what we were doing when Dr. Weir was killed. We had a camp in the woods, right by where the Athosians were camped, and only a dozen people in the city. They were supposed to be lying low, not using unnecessary power, all that stuff. If we’d all been in the city, there’s a good chance Dr. Weir wouldn’t have been killed. It’s a lot easier to defend ourselves from inside all that stone.”

  “Indeed,” Teal’c said, when it seemed that O’Neill wasn’t going to respond. He could see both sides of the problem, the need to establish a defensible position opposed to the need to stay on good terms with the locals, and he found he could not entirely blame Colonel Sumner for his first choice. He was less sure about decision to develop the anti-enzyme drug, or its consequences.

  “And the Wraith only attack the city?” O’Neill asked.

  “They attack us wherever they can catch us, sir,” Ford said. “What you saw the other morning, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. They send those Darts of theirs through the gate, try to pick off any working parties — not just in the city but in the woods and by the Stargate itself.”

  “Are they leaving the Athosians alone?”

  Ford shrugged. “I don’t know, sir. I’m not sure they’d tell us either way. And I’m not sure they’re not doing some kind of deal with the Wraith — you know, let the Wraith have us and maybe they won’t bother the locals for a while.”

  One of the other Marines nodded in agreement, but spoke to Ford. “Sir, looks like we’ve got some fresh tracks off to the north.”

  “Check it out,” Ford said. “Stay in sight if you can, and keep in radio contact.”

  “Yes, sir.” The Marine moved away, waving for one of the others to join him.

  “We’ll take six,” O’Neill said.

  Teal’c thought Ford wanted to protest, but couldn’t quite figure out how. “Yes, sir.”

  “What kind of weapons do these Athosians have?” Teal’c asked.

  “Everything from bows and arrows to bolt-action rifles.” Ford lengthened his stride to catch up with the rest of the party, but O’Neill gestured for them to stay back. Teal’c nodded his understanding, and went to one knee to adjust the fastening of his boot. The rest of the party moved ahead, following the new trail, uniforms blending with the trees.

  “Ok,” O’Neill said. “We’ll just — mosey along.”

  “Mosey?” Teal’c had heard the word from General Hammond, but had never received a satisfactory definition.

  “Wander. Slowly. Without purpose.” O’Neill waved one hand vaguely. “Mosey.”

  “Indeed.”

  The Marines were almost out of sight — Lieutenant Ford was out of sight, hurrying after his point men — and Teal’c was newly aware of the soft sounds of the forest. Such sounds were different on every world, depending on the nature of the vegetation, the animal and bird life, the season of the year, and yet fundamentally similar enough that it was possible to recognize a break in the pattern. He tipped his head to listen. Yes, there had been a distant whistle, a bird, perhaps, or an insect, that was no longer present, and the sound of the leaves was different.

  “O’Neill,” he said, and in that moment, a slight, pretty woman stepped out from between the trees. She was smiling, but Teal’c could not believe it to be entirely friendly.

  “Gentlemen,” she said. “If you would step this way quickly and quietly.”

  “And why would we want to do that?” O’Neill asked, though he kept his voice down and made no move to raise his P90.

  “You said you wanted to talk to me.”

  Teal’c had not heard the newcomer approach, and whirled, just managing to keep from bringing his P90 up as he recognized the Atlantis uniform.

  “Major Sheppard,” O’Neill said. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  Sheppard gave an unhappy little smile. “Yes, sir. But if you don’t mind, I’d rather not do it here.”

  “Lead on,” O’Neill said, but it was the woman who answered.

  “Quickly, then. This way.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Prisoners

  THE SMALL woman led them quickly through the trees at a sharp angle to the main path, following a trail that seemed no bigger than a deer’s track. She had to be the woman Sumner had complained about, Jack thought, the Athosian’s head trader Teyla Emmagan. She didn’t seem precisely hostile, though she was intently focused, and Sheppard seemed neither to defer to her nor to give her orders. There was one moment when a second path split off from the trail they were following when the two of them spoke quietly, but Jack couldn’t tell which of them made the final decision. And that — if Sumner was right, and she was part of the problem, then they were in serious trouble. She was good.

  They were going uphill now, the slope rising steeply enough underfoot that Jack had to watch his footing carefully. At last the ground leveled a little, and they came out of the trees onto a rocky slope. A cliff rose sheer above them, and there were dark openings in the rock that looked like the mouths of caves. Several figures stepped out of the woods, three Athosians and a stocky woman in the Atlantis uniform, and Sheppard gave another of his wincing smiles.

  “Easy, folks. It’s General O’Neill, and Teal’c, just like I told you.”

  “What’s that on his forehead?” That was a teenage boy at the mouth of the closest cave, his breaking voice louder than he’d meant, and Teyla gave him a stern look.

  “Jinto. Did your father send you?”

  The boy nodded, flushing to the roots of his hair. “I brought salt and a m
essage.”

  “Take the salt to Farres,” Teyla said. “And then you can bring me the message.” She took a breath, looking back at Sheppard. “Let us go inside.”

  Sheppard nodded. “Good idea. If you’ll come this way, General?”

  He led them further along the cliff to a somewhat larger opening partially obscured by what looked like vines but proved to be a netting woven with leaves. Inside the cave it was dry and warm, light provided equally by familiar battery-powered lanterns with the Atlantis logo and by candles as big around as Jack’s arm. There were a few chairs, and what looked like a disassembled trestle table stacked against the wall, but most of the furniture seemed to be pillows and boxes and heavy rugs. At the back of the cave a fire was burning in a wide metal brazier that looked as though it had come from a museum. An old man sat beside it, a heavy woolen wrap pulled tight across his shoulders, tending a pot nestled in the embers.

  “Perhaps you would like a cup of tea,” Teyla said.

  Jack had played that game before and he met her smile with one of his own. “Thank you. It was a long walk.”

  “We prefer not to come too close to the city,” she answered. “But I’m sure you’ve been told that already.”

  “I’d heard.” Jack accepted a pottery cup from the old man, and let Teyla steer them to a set of chairs and pillows that were set a little bit apart from the rest of the room. His knees weren’t up for the pillows and he settled himself carefully on one of the wood and canvas stools. Teal’c seated himself gracefully on the pillows, as did Sheppard, and Teyla took the other chair. “I’ve heard quite a lot of things.”

  “Yeah. I bet you have.” Sheppard took a gulp of his tea.

  “I have, Major, and I’m waiting for an explanation.” Jack meant the words to sting, and Sheppard flinched, but Teyla merely smiled.

  “Sir.” Sheppard straightened in spite of himself. “I imagine you’ve heard most of it already.”

  “Why don’t you tell me everything?” Jack asked. “We’ve got the time.”