The Drift

by Diane Dru Botsford

  Huang’s heart ached with the absence of his crèche-brother. If only Shi had survived to see the honesty in this landscape. If only he was here to feel the cold, crisp nature of the wind.

  If only the kresh’ta who had killed Shi was here now. Huang would rip the symbiote from the murderous Jaffa’s pouch and watch him die in agony.

  Left, then right. Another step forward. Huang knew he must stop soon and rest. It had been many hours since he’d left the Chappa’ai. He glanced once more toward the smoke emanating from the distant mountain beyond the valley and across a great flat expanse of land. The journey there would take many days.

  More days than the sustenance he carried would allow.

  He must keep his strength. Eat when he was hungry. Rest when he could. He stopped once more and crouched down, placing the staffs beside him. He unslung his satchel from his shoulder and pulled forth one of the two-score meatrolls wrapped in oiled parchment. Breaking off a small piece, he sighed. Only days ago, the slave Baozhai had packed these rations.

  One more thing he would need to attend to upon his return home. Baozhai must be informed of Shi’s death. Even if their affair was forbidden, Huang felt he must honor Shi by telling the girl of his brother’s brave efforts and unfortunate demise.

  When Lord Yu allowed him to return home, Huang would receive his wénshēn, take up his right as First Prime, and then do battle in Shi’s name to ensure that honor lived on in all Dragon Guards to come.

  Huang stuffed the other half of the meatroll back into the satchel, knowing he must stretch his food supplies. A shrill birdcall grabbed his attention. He looked up in time to see the bird’s white underbelly and black-tipped wings soar downward toward the flat ice at the valley’s end. Its wingspan was enormous, perhaps twice the length of a full-grown man.

  And possible food to aid his journey.

  “What is your progress?” asked Lord Yu from within the communications device.

  “Arduous, my lord,” Huang replied, removing the wired ball and frame from his satchel.

  “Show me.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Huang arose from his crouching position and held the communications rig aloft. He slowly turned around so that the System Lord might see a full panorama of the daunting landscape. He ended facing the smoke which rising from the distant mountain. “That is my destination, Lord. Certainly the Tau’ri — ”

  “Impossible. Giza had no mountains, only flat desert.”

  “My lord?” Huang lowered the communications rig to eye-level. “Can mountains such as these grow in the thousand years since your time amongst the Tau’ri?”

  “As I said, impossible.” The System Lord stroked his emperor’s tuft, his face pensive. “Tell me, you have been there for several days now. When last did the sun set?”

  “It has not, my lord.”

  Lord Yu harrumphed. “Then you are not in Giza. If the Tau’ri’s year is still the same length, it is summer where you have arrived.”

  “But my lord… The ice! The snow!”

  “You are at the southern pole. I am certain of it.”

  Huang took a step back in surprise. “But the Chappa’ai — ”

  It was a step he would forever regret.

  He plummeted into a crevasse he had not seen. Powdered snow spilled across his face as gravity pulled him downward. When he jerked his arms outward to stop his descent, he lost his grip on the communications ball. The more he reached through the engulfing snow for the ball, the more snow toppled down. His eyes and skin stung from the burning cold. Though he held mouth shut, the snow filled his nostrils. He flailed against the avalanche of snow, sinking further and further down.

  Some tired part of him, far off in the distant reaches of his mind, told him to stop moving. He did so, his descent immediately halting. Light still reached him though he’d sunk beneath the surface. That meant he wasn’t too far below.

  It meant he could still survive. Still escape.

  But to what end? He had failed. Failed his master. Failed Shi.

  Even if he could crawl back up to the surface, without the communications ball, he could never return home. Lord Yu’s guards would fire without pause upon any unannounced arrivals through the Chappa’ai. So would the Serpent Guards of Chulak.

  There was no planet to turn to, no means to return home.

  Huang floated in the snow, allowing its insulation to warm his misery.

  He had failed his other crèche-brothers, too. Qin Shi. Kong Qiu.

  Kong Qiu.

  The words of Qiu’s great ancestor Confucius echoed across Huang’s memory. A learning line from his boyhood tutor.

  Failure is not falling down, but refusing to get up.

  Slowly, ever carefully, Huang drew in his left arm. The snow didn’t pull him down further.

  He brought his right knee up to his chest. The snow remained calm. Pushing his leg downward, he pushed himself up. The snow gave him no argument. In small measures, he inched his way toward the light…

  And broke through to the air above. One final push and he crawled from what could have been his snowy grave. Sliding on his belly, he moved back toward his earlier footprints, several arms’ length away. It was only then that he allowed himself to sit up, gasping in great gulps of air.

  His satchel was gone, and with it any source of food. While the snow would provide him with water aplenty, he would need to eat to survive. He looked for his staff weapons. One had disappeared, but the other was safely where he’d placed it earlier. He retrieved the staff and glanced overhead. The bird from earlier was gone, but where there was one, certainly more would come.

  With the staff in his grip, he rose to meet the southern pole of the Tau’ri. Yes, he had failed his master and his family, but he now knew he could survive.

  He would survive. He must. For to do otherwise would give his life no purpose.

  And his brother’s death no meaning.

  He would learn the truth of the Tau’ri. And then, he would find a way home, his duty to his lord and master complete. Then, and only then, would he ask Lord Yu’s aid in crushing the Jaffa who had killed Lao Shi.

  It was only a matter of when and where.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ANCIENT OUTPOST, ANTARCTICA

  18 AUG 04/1435 HRS MCMURDO STATION

  Two-hundred feet beneath the Ferrar Glacier, the once calm, almost serene outpost had become mayhem. Airmen rushed across fallen ice and snow. Scientists struggled to retrieve toppled-over equipment. Between sobs and shouts, diplomats and trainees huddled in the main chamber.

  Through the entire ruckus, George held vigil over a ten-foot wide hole in the floor beside the still activated weapons chair. Somewhere hidden below the milky-white force field covering the ragged tear in the floor were his people: Jack, SG-1, and the Chinese trainee.

  Someone stuck a cup of coffee in his hand. “Thank you.”

  Dr. Lee shuffled up beside him. “Have you tried calling out to them?”

  “Repeatedly.” George took a sip of the welcome coffee. Black, two sugars. Someone knew him all too well.

  Lee stuck his foot out toward the hole. “It’s possible the force field muffles sound waves.”

  “I wouldn’t do that, if — ”

  A faint electrical charge shot out from the force field, attacking Lee’s boot. The scientist stumbled back a few paces.

  “Doesn’t carry much of a punch, does it?” Still, George had tried to break through multiple times with nary a dent. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so.” Keeping his distance, Lee peered at the hole. “The edges are mostly yellowish sandstone sandwiched between layers of dark gray volcanic basalt.”

  “Drillable?”

  “If the force field hasn’t spread under the floor beyond the hole, sure. It’s too thick to see much of anything.”

  “Let’s bring in a drilling team,” George suggested. “Contact McMurdo.”

  “I’m not sure drilling’s a good idea, General.” Le
e pulled his glasses off and wiped them on his fleece pullover. “With this much geological instability, it could bring the whole outpost down on us.”

  “And we’d lose the weapons chair,” George realized. He drained his cup in disgust. “What happens next, Doctor?”

  “Next, General?” Squinting, Lee returned his glasses to their rightful position.

  “That’s right, Doctor. Next.” George threw his shoulders back and stared the scientist down to make his point. He knew Lee was in shock. They all were, but now wasn’t the time for standing around and contemplating their navels. “That fall probably knocked our people unconscious, otherwise General O’Neill would be yelling bloody murder. Get that force field down and our people retrieved. Am I clear?”

  As if to reinforce his point, a low rumble started beneath them. The trellised panels rattled. A few moments later, the shaking subsided.

  “Aftershocks,” Lee mumbled. Holding on to one of the pillars arranged around the platformed chair, he knelt down until his face was only inches from the force field. “I think one of the scientists might have some gear I could use.”

  “Then go get that gear and bring it in here, pronto,” George ordered. “The sooner you get started, the sooner we’ll have our people back.”

  PLANET DESIGNATION: UNKNOWN

  STATUS: UNKNOWN

  TIME: UNKNOWN… UNKNOWN… UNKNOWN…

  There’s a moment when nothing exists while stepping through an active Stargate. It’s that microsecond between heartbeats. A sliver of nonexistence where all sensations disappear. There’s no sound, no scent, no taste or touch, and certainly nothing to see.

  Until stepping out the other side.

  Daniel stood on a stone platform no different than countless other platforms on countless other trips. The loamy scent of rich soil tickled his nostrils. Rolling hills covered in jewel-green ferns spread out as far as the eye could see. Bright sunlight warmed his face.

  Sunlight. Warmth.

  As opposed to?

  That didn’t make sense. As a student of ancient cultures, he would use that instant of gate-travel to wipe away presupposed expectations. While first impressions could be wrong so could making comparisons. He’d learned that the hard way. He always needed a moment to push aside his last location so he could judge a new planet fairly.

  It was no different this time. Except, when he mentally tried to push away that last moment before stepping through, nothing came to mind.

  Perspiration dripped down his back. Upon hearing the event horizon collapse behind him, he decided to unzip his operation jacket. His hand came in contact with a fleece pullover. A glimpse of Sam and Teal’c showed them wearing the same thing: green fleece pullovers and black wool pants.

  So was Jack, who’d somehow arrived ahead of them, wearing the same get-up and seeming very pissed. Especially since no one had a GDO.

  “Dial us home, Carter. Now.”

  Daniel stepped to the edge of the platform. “Jack, what’s going on?”

  “We’re gating out of here, that’s what.” Jack rushed over to the DHD. “We’ll head to the Alpha site.”

  “Wait a minute!” Daniel ran down the platform steps. Sam and Teal’c followed close behind. “Don’t we want to figure out where ‘here’ is, first?”

  “Not really, no.” Jack jabbed a finger in the air. “Someone’s playing games with us and I’m not in the mood.”

  Someone needed to calm their normally fearless leader fast.

  Fortunately, Teal’c took the fall. “O’Neill, have you any memory of — ?”

  “Nada. Bupkiss.” Jack’s voice lowered.

  “Me, either,” said Daniel.

  “The last thing I remember was…” Sam frowned. “Well, that’s odd.”

  “Carter?”

  “Sir, I remember who I am.” She gestured at Jack, then Daniel and then Teal’c. “I remember all of you, but — ”

  “Yeah, I’m having trouble, too,” Daniel said. “My long-term memory’s fine, but short-term’s — ”

  “Gone,” Jack whispered. His eyes darkened, causing Daniel to wonder what had happened before the rest of them had arrived.

  Sam gestured toward the DHD. “Uh, Daniel? I can’t find the point-of-origin symbol.”

  Daniel slid between Jack and the DHD and studied the DHD’s round control panel. Everything seemed normal; two concentric rings of nineteen glyphs apiece surrounded the central red half-sphere control globe. On closer examination, he found a new glyph-key. Twin lines twisted around each other like a double helix. He pointed it out to Sam.

  “You’re sure?” she asked. “I’ve never seen that before. Teal’c?”

  SG-1’s resident Jaffa bent over the DHD and examined the glyph. “Your estimation is as good as mine.”

  Behind them, Jack exhaled loudly. “It’s a ‘guess,’ T. As in ‘your guess is as good as.’”

  Teal’c straightened up from the pedestal. “I have often found Colonel Carter and Daniel Jackson’s hypotheses to be far superior to mere guesses. Should we not trust them now?”

  “You’ll get no argument from me.” With a flourish, Jack gestured toward the DHD. “Dial it up, Colonel.”

  “Yes, sir.” She pressed the first key, its telltale kachink followed soon by the gate’s top chevron lighting up.

  “You see that?” Jack smacked at Daniel’s arm. “Six more symbols, one big kawoosh, a quick hop to the Alpha site, and we’ll be home for supper.”

  Kachink. Five more symbols to go.

  “I still think we’re making a mistake.” Daniel turned his gaze toward the valley below and the hill just beyond.

  Kachink. Three down, four to go.

  He couldn’t see any buildings. No other identifiable markings. But that hill…

  Kachink. Another chevron lit up.

  “There’s something familiar about this place,” he announced.

  “No, there really isn’t.” Jack yanked off his pullover revealing a black long-sleeved t-shirt underneath.

  Kachink.

  Daniel followed suit, pushing his sleeves up to reveal the same shirt, only white. “That’s odd.”

  Jack looked down at his shirt and then at Daniel’s. “Not half as odd as…”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” Jack answered with a scowl. He turned back toward the DHD. “Hurry it up, Carter. Our attire isn’t exactly in line with the local climate.”

  “O’Neill, should we not determine what brought us here before returning to the SGC?”

  “Later, T.” Jack shoved his hands into his pockets. “SG-1 can come back with weapons, GDOs, the whole works.”

  Kachink.

  Daniel couldn’t help but notice Jack’s left hand balled up in his pocket, as if he had something in it. He checked his own pockets. Nothing. Not even a bit of lint.

  “Last one, sir.” Sam tapped the new point-of-origin key, and pressed down on the control globe. As the red sphere lit up, Daniel tensed. No matter how many times he’d been through the gate that moment of anticipation never failed.

  Until now.

  There was no active wormhole.

  “What the hell?” Jack threw down his pullover.

  “The DHD should work,” Sam reported. “The correct glyphs light up. The control globe’s engaged.”

  Jack’s face went taut. “Fix it.”

  “Sir, I don’t have any tools.”

  “I don’t care!”

  As Sam flinched, Daniel heard a distant rumble. Like a waterfall. No one else mentioned it so he returned to the matter-at-hand. “Calm down, Jack. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

  “Look, Carter, I’m sorry.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture Daniel had seen him repeat several times since they’d arrived.

  Jack caught Daniel’s glance and dropped his hand to his side. “Just, figure it out.”

  The rumble grew louder. Daniel could feel it in his boots. “Anyone hear that?” He turned his gaze upwards, but saw no
thing. Just blue sky and a bright sun.

  “We’re about to be hit by an ambush, aren’t we?” Jack glanced up as well. “I’m thinking Ba’al or one of his cronies got bored. That has to be what that thing was about earlier.”

  Thing? Daniel raised an eyebrow. “What did you see, Jack?”

  “Leave it alone, Daniel.”

  More rumbling. Pebbles around the base of the DHD began to scatter.

  Teal’c scanned the horizon. “The skies are clear, O’Neill.”

  “Sir, I recommend dialing the gate manually,” Sam said.

  “Right. Good!” For the first time since their arrival, Jack actually smiled.

  The rumbling stopped.

  Jack gestured toward Teal’c and then the gate. “Do it.”

  Teal’c climbed onto the gate platform. Taking hold of the inner ring, he pulled downward for a manual dial. As the ring slid through the outer rim, Daniel considered their circumstances. Beyond not being able to remember how they got there, two other things bothered him. First off, it was sunny, which somehow seemed wrong. Second, Jack kept fidgeting with his pocket, almost as if he was…

  “What’s that?” Daniel pointed at Jack’s pocket.

  “Nothing.” Jack stuck his hands behind his back. “You realize we have no weapons.”

  Daniel shrugged, letting Jack’s misdirection slide for the moment. “We’ve been in worse spots.”

  “Not in these get-ups.” Jack headed toward the gate platform where Teal’c stood, staring up at the Stargate. “What’s the hold-up?”

  “Observe.” Teal’c gestured toward the inner ring as it spun through the various symbols. “It will not lock.”

  “That’s not possible.” Sam ran up the platform and grabbed hold of the inner ring, stopping its forward momentum.

  Daniel joined Jack at the platform’s base. He peered up at the Stargate. All seven chevrons were still lit up. “Try turning it the other way.”

  With a slight bow of his head, Teal’c grasped hold of the ring and tried to push upwards. It wouldn’t budge.