The Drift

by Diane Dru Botsford

  “Excuse me, but,” Lee waved toward the floor and ceiling, “there’s no silver here.”

  “General Hammond?” Brooks raised his hand.

  “Go ahead, Airman.”

  “Sir, when Gerling and I crawled through some of the outer hallways of this place, we did see some metallic carvings in the walls.” Brooks shrugged. “We thought they were decorative.”

  “That’s a problem, sir.” Sam exchanged glances with Jack. “Silver works as a thermal-electrical conductor. If there’s any circuitry left in the crystal, it’ll super-charge whatever power’s left and — ”

  “Rip the planet to shreds?”

  “Huang must accompany you, O’Neill,” said Skaara. “You must take him through the Stargate to Kunlun. Now.”

  “Even if I agreed to Huang’s participation,” said General Hammond, “there isn’t enough time. Huang is in Beijing, the Stargate’s in Colorado, and we’re in Antarctica. I’m sorry, but we need to evacuate and go through with our original plan.”

  “Blowing up the outpost,” Daniel mumbled, devastated at what the loss signified for Earth.

  “Sir, wait!” Sam ran over to the hole. “Major Davis, are the F-302s still over at Observation Hill?”

  Paul climbed halfway up the ladder. “Actually, Colonel, they’re over at Marble Point. That’s only a ten-minute chopper ride from here. Oh, wait!”

  He scrambled off the ladder, landing on the outpost floor with a thud. “Use the 302s for hyperspace jumps! Hop over to Beijing, then — ”

  “Jumping in and around Antarctica is one thing,” Hammond said, “but you can’t go jumping in and out of populated areas with top secret equipment.”

  “But they could fly in,” Sam said. “If final approach was handled at normal speeds.”

  “Carter, what do you have in mind?” Jack said.

  “The 302s are capable of Mach 6, easily.” Sam headed toward Robert’s computer and tapped furiously on the keyboard. “There are two, right?”

  Paul nodded. “I doubt Colonel Ferguson moved them back.”

  “You better hope you’re right.”

  Another airman came in, holding a gurney. He went over to the hole and handed it down as Teal’c climbed up. He saw Skaara and bowed, surprisingly unconcerned.

  “What will they do with Weiyan Shi?” he asked.

  Daniel sighed. “I suppose they’ll medi-vac her, maybe — ”

  “You must tell them to stop,” Skaara said.

  “I can’t do that. What if there’s a way to — ”

  “Daniel…” Skaara’s brow furrowed, his eyes stern. “Her journey’s end begins here. Tell them to stop.”

  A cold breeze blew across the back of Daniel’s neck. He shuddered, remembering.

  Please, Jack. Tell Jacob to stop.

  “You’re going to help her ascend,” Daniel realized aloud.

  Skaara nodded. “She deserves no less.”

  “I concur,” Teal’c intoned. “If there are no objections, I will inform the airmen.”

  No one said a word. How could they? Death was one thing. What Skaara offered Weiyan?

  General Hammond broke the silence. “Let them know, Teal’c.”

  Their Jaffa teammate hurried over to the hole and relayed Hammond’s orders. Though Daniel couldn’t see her, he didn’t hear Zhu object.

  “Generals,” Sam announced from the computer, “I think this will work if General Hammond can get permission for a 302 to enter China’s airspace.”

  “Easier said than done, Colonel.”

  Sam looked up from the screen. “Sir, their government already knows about the fighter-interceptors and the truth is — ”

  “Their butts are at risk as much ours.” Jack scowled. “I get it, Carter. Do the math.”

  “Beijing has a military airstrip just outside the city. They’re about 7,300 miles from here. At Mach 6, that’ll take a bit less than two hours from Marble Point. I can fly out there, grab Huang while you take the other 302 and head directly for Petersen. I can meet you back at the SGC in,” she ran another series of keystrokes, “another two hours. The trip from Beijing to Petersen is about 7,500 miles.”

  Jack folded his arms. “That leaves ten hours to go through the gate, grab the crystal, hop back in the 302s and fly back here before a whole bunch of C-4 goes off. What time is sunrise?”

  “A little after twelve-noon,” Lee said.

  “Piece of cake except for one small change.” Jack turned toward General Hammond. “Sir, I’d like to be the one to get Huang. I think I owe that much to his kid.”

  Hammond glanced over at the hole. “If you’re willing to try it, then yes. There’s a chopper waiting topside. I’ll call the President and make arrangements.”

  With a nod toward Skaara, he headed toward the exit. “It’s gonna be one heck of a phone call.”

  “Uh, General Hammond?” Jack raced after him. “Since we’re short on time, can we request that Huang be waiting at the airstrip? I’m not exactly keen on the idea of going into a prison to sign him out.”

  “Sam said it was a psychiatric hospital,” Daniel pointed out.

  Jack’s eyes darkened. “Same difference when it comes to the Chinese. Trust me.”

  “O’Neill,” Teal’c said. “As there are only two seats on each Interceptor, I will remain here.” Without waiting for an answer, he climbed back down.

  Jack shared a look with Daniel, who could only shrug.

  “Allow Teal’c this action, O’Neill,” Skaara offered. “Daniel’s path is with you and Colonel Carter.”

  “You’ll take care of her after,” Jack said. “Right?”

  “Of course.”

  “And you’ll take care of yourself? No more sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

  Skaara grinned, reminding Daniel of how young he’d been before his untimely death.

  “Daniel. O’Neill.” Those soft Ls again.

  Daniel’s chest ached, thinking back on everything he’d lost in the fight against the Goa’uld. Skaara. Kasuf. Sha’re.

  Skaara met his gaze, his grin softening into a knowing smile. “So much lies ahead for you both. Find peace in your work, Daniel. Find peace in your life, O’Neill. Let go of the past and live for the future.”

  With that, Skaara faded away.

  Daniel stared into the space where he’d been, wishing Skaara could have stayed longer. There were so many questions needing answers. Why had Oma sent him? How was Sha’re’s son, Shifu?

  Why had he turned his back on ascension?

  “Daniel?”

  “Yeah, Jack.”

  “Let’s go save the world.”

  ANCIENT OUTPOST, ANTARCTICA

  18 AUG 04/2310 HRS MCMURDO STATION

  18 AUG 04/0610 HRS STARGATE COMMAND

  Teal’c sank down on the platform, eyeing the surrounding force field. Ambassador Zhu sat across, focused on her child. A blanket had been draped below the charred crystal protruding from Weiyan Shi’s belly, covering her legs against the biting cold of the outpost.

  While Teal’c’s heart was glad that he and his team had wrested free of the platform’s grip, Weiyan Shi was not as fortunate.

  Was it ill fate, he wondered, or should he consider the path she would soon encounter to be fortunate?

  “I have read Stargate Command’s files concerning Dr. Jackson’s ascension,” Zhu whispered. “Will my daughter…? Will she — ?”

  The woman broke down in a fit of tears. Teal’c waited patiently, knowing that the ambassador must summon the strength on her own to face what would happen next.

  When her sobs subsided, Teal’c explained what he knew of both the legend, and the reality, of ascension. “Before learning the truth, I knew only of the tale told amongst my people.”

  Zhu returned to stroking her daughter’s sweat-plastered hair. “If my former husband’s origins are to be believed, all legends begin in truth. Tell me of the Jaffa’s beliefs.”

  Teal’c bowe
d his head in assent. “When a Jaffa could no longer carry a prim’tah, they would make their journey to Kheb. There the Ko’lak would learn the path through the darkness, into the next life.”

  “I have read your file as well, Teal’c. If you no longer carry a symbiote, you cannot follow the ways of your people.”

  “On the contrary, Ambassador Zhu. When SG-1 first visited Kheb, an ascended being told my friend and mentor that only by losing our symbiotes would the path to ascension ever be possible.”

  “The tretonin.” Zhu grunted. “Thanks to alliances made through Earth’s Stargate, you might one day achieve what my daughter must now embrace.”

  Someone coughed from above. Major Davis appeared at the hole’s edge.

  “The F-302s are in the air,” he reported. “Colonel Carter and Dr. Jackson are on their way to Petersen. General O’Neill’s on track to land in Beijing in about 90 minutes.”

  “He will see my father,” Weiyan Shi whispered. “Please, tell General O’Neill — ”

  A thunderous rumble shook beneath them. Another quake. Snow and ice tumbled down from the ceiling and though Teal’c did his best to shield Weiyan Shi, several small chunks of ice smashed against her legs. As the shaking subsided, he took note of the fact that her wound had cauterized around the crystal. Nonetheless, the pain would be significant and yet, she made no complaints. He was not certain whether this was a sign of bravery or the possibility that she could not feel her body.

  In either case, Teal’c knew that the tremors would not stop. Not until O’Neill had returned with the crystal from Kunlun and shut down the device. A pang of guilt washed over him and he wondered once more at the possible hand he’d had in their current fate.

  No. There was no way to truly know. What mattered now was Earth’s future. He must face the present and do what was needed.

  Weiyan’s ravaged features told him how he must proceed. He stood up. “Major Davis?”

  The major appeared again by the ladder. “What do you need, Teal’c?”

  “An injection to blunt Weiyan Shi’s pain. And another blanket.”

  A moment later, Major Davis returned and handed him a syringe and a plastic-wrapped blanket. Teal’c administered the shot to Weiyan’s arm. He then tore the plastic off the blanket and shook it free.

  Major Davis took the discarded plastic. “You’ve seen ascension happen twice, haven’t you?”

  “I have. First when Daniel Jackson departed, and then Skaara. The event is,” he glanced down at Ambassador Zhu and frowned, “disquieting, but significant.”

  Balling up the plastic, Major Davis then glanced over his shoulder. “Airmen, withdraw to the outside chamber.”

  Muffled sounds of acknowledgement reached Teal’c’s ears. He thanked Major Davis and unfurled the wool blanket and spread it over Weiyan’s shoulders. She whimpered.

  When Ambassador Zhu made no move to attend to Weiyan Shi, Teal’c slid over and cradled her head in his lap. “Your sacrifice will not be forgotten, Weiyan Shi.”

  She opened her eyes. “Please hold me.”

  “I will stay with you as long as you like.” Ambassador Zhu crawled around the crystal and joined them at the platform’s edge.

  “Mother,” Weiyan Shi cried out. “I am sorry I failed you.”

  “You have failed no one, child.”

  A gasp escaped Weiyan Shi and she squeezed her eyes shut.

  Teal’c had seen and felt much physical pain in his hundred and six years of age, and yet watching Weiyan Shi, watching this young woman barely out of childhood, unsettled him greatly.

  In her weakened state, her groans had become barely whispers. He knew she would not ascend until she was truly ready to do so, but surely, there must be something he could do to ease her final moments. Something beyond Tau’ri painkillers.

  He began to sing. “Kel ma kree. Sha’shan. Kel na t’ai. Or’intani. Kel han’dai.”

  Weiyan Shi’s eyes fluttered open. “A song for Jaffa?”

  “Indeed. My wife Drey’auc would sing this to our son Rya’c when he was very young.”

  “Rya’c.” Pain shadowed across her face and she paused until it passed. “Will you see him soon?”

  “When the time allows, yes.” Rya’c had joined Master Bra’tac in assisting Ishta and the Hak’tyl women Jaffa in coordinating Fifth Column efforts. It had been many weeks since father and son had met. Teal’c silently promised to visit soon.

  “Is he a warrior?” Weiyan Shi asked. “Like you?”

  “Youth still has him in its grip, but yes, Rya’c is and shall always be a warrior.” He gazed down upon her worried brow. “Just as you shall always be, Weiyan Shi.”

  With that, the pain left her and she fell asleep.

  “This ascension,” Ambassador Zhu whispered, “is it possible that my daughter might still exist, once she has died?”

  “Believe it.” Teal’c glanced at her. “You must. She sacrificed herself so that we might save your planet. That sacrifice must be remembered, not denied.”

  Ambassador Zhu brushed a wisp of hair from her daughter’s forehead. “I will not dishonor her memory.” She returned Teal’c’s gaze. “Nor do I any longer believe that others who have served the program are fools.”

  “You remember our discussion.”

  “How can I forget your ardent speech about duty and honor?” She turned her gaze upwards toward the Ancient Weapons Chair. “Upon my return to China, I will devote my energies to convincing the upper leadership of the need to leave the chair here in Antarctica. Under the care of those who serve so that Earth may be protected.”

  “You honor your child’s death,” he said, relieved that some good would come of this day.

  “What I wish to do, Teal’c, is honor her life.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  20° 53’ 10”N ~ 156° 40’ 29W

  INTERNATIONAL AIRSPACE

  19 AUG 04/0105 HRS MCMURDO STATION

  19 AUG 04/0805 HRS STARGATE COMMAND

  Once the bird was out over international waters with a half moon as its only companion, Jack loosened his grip on the flight stick and flipped his radio back on. While he supposedly had a secure channel, betting against Chinese Intelligence wasn’t exactly a gamble he felt like taking.

  “Mission Command,” he said into the radio, “this is Outpost One. Package received. En route to disembarkation point.”

  A few hisses. A couple of pops. Then Davis’ voice broke though. “Roger, Outpost One. Standby for General Hammond.”

  “Standing by.” Well, sort of. At their current altitude of 20 miles above sea level, Mach 6 meant flying along at… He hated math. Checking his airspeed gauge, he noted a cozy little 4,102 mph.

  “This is Hammond. Report, Outpost One.”

  “Good to hear your voice, sir. I estimate arrival time in T minus 90 minutes and counting.”

  “I trust you had no troubles obtaining your objective, General?”

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle, sir.” Jack winced. It was a bit of lie, but not by much. Landing at the Beijing airstrip had been a piece of cake. The thing rode the runway like a Cadillac. Getting out of the F-302 had been another matter entirely. Especially when several hundred of the Chinese Republic’s million-man army and a slew of high-powered spotlights greeted him. Communism at its finest. All nicely lined up, their rifles trained right on him. Chairman Mao would’ve been proud.

  An armored tank rolled up to the bird. The top hatch popped open and a middle-aged man poked his head out. “Zhōng zhǐ!”

  The Chinese dropped their weapons. The guy looked familiar, but he knew it wasn’t Huang. Wrong face shape and besides, the guy wouldn’t go from being in a mental hospital to leading a battalion.

  Dressed in a dark blue suit, the man climbed down from the tank and motioned for the two nearest soldiers to climb on up. As they did, another man came up the hatch. Though his hair had been shorn off to a shiny buzz cut, they’d let him keep the goatee, though it’d gone completely gray. It
was a longer, more straggly mess than the last time Jack had seen him.

  The two soldiers lifted Huang out of the hatch and that’s when Jack noticed the cuffs on his wrists and ankles. He hated to admit it, but those restraints gave him peace of mind.

  The soldiers lowered Huang to the tarmac. Besides a dark smudge on the guy’s forehead, he seemed relatively cleaned up though Jack suspected it’d been a while since his last meal. He wore loose-fitting black pants and a matching collarless shirt.

  Another soldier stuck his head out of the hatch and threw down a heavy winter parka. A soldier picked it up and shoved it over Huang’s shoulders.

  Obviously, they weren’t fully informed on where Jack intended to take Huang. That was fine by him.

  At the other man’s lead, the soldiers escorted him toward the F-302. Between the soldier’s open glares, the shuffling of Huang’s cuffed ankles, and the oppressively hot Beijing weather, Jack had to muster up every discipline he knew not to shout at their idiocy. If they thought Huang was going anywhere near Antarctica, they were wrong. Dead wrong.

  As they stopped a few feet short of the gantry, Jack took a long hard look at Huang’s face. The man had single-handedly arranged for SG-1’s demise while in Yu’s clutches. Though he wasn’t a Goa’uld, and not even a Jaffa, he was still the enemy.

  And those pitch-black pupils edged with green flecks still gave him an unearthly look.

  “General O’Neill,” said the leader, “your photos do not do you justice.”

  “Okay, and who might you be?”

  The man bowed. “I am the people’s true ambassador to the Security Council.”

  Jack snapped his fingers. “You’re Ambassador Chen. I’ve seen your photo.”

  “And?”

  What did the guy want, a compliment? Jack hated diplomacy. “Kinda hot for a winter coat, don’t you think?” He jerked a thumb at Huang’s parka.

  Chen shrugged. “It is barely above room temperature.”

  “Yeah, right.” And the sky’s not blue, it’s green. Jack just loved playing footsies with the Chinese.