STARGATE SG-1: Do No Harm

by Karen Miller

  She looked at him, her cheeks drenched. “How can they have power if they are dead?”

  Good question. “Ah — well — because they were gods. Think about it. Your people have been coming here to pray for many years, haven’t they?”

  Slowly she nodded. “Yes.”

  “And your prayers have been answered?”

  “Sometimes,” she said, sniffing. “Not everyone is spared the darkness.”

  He took her hands again. “Lotar, we have a saying on Earth. God — the gods — answer all prayers, but sometimes the answer is no. And that can be hard. I know it can be hard.” I’ve been told no more times than I can bear. “But I can’t imagine why the gods wouldn’t want you to marry Bhuiku.”

  She tugged her hands free. “Oh, I do I want to marry him, Daniel,” she whispered. “I love him very much.”

  “Then marry him, Lotar. Finish your passing time and marry the man you love.”

  Her chin came up. “I will.”

  He was so relieved he could’ve kissed her. “Tell me, Lotar, how long is your passing time supposed to last?”

  “Ten sunrises we must pray at the gods’ gate, bringing them the offerings we find in the wilderness.”

  He felt a whisper of excitement. Ten days in the wilderness. So it was a test of survival, too, a total rite of passage. Which meant it didn’t correlate to any rituals he’d come across in the period of Egyptian history from which Lotar’s distant ancestors had come. And that meant it had developed in the unique environment that was Adjo. Hot damn! This place was a virtual petrie dish of human sociological drift, of —

  Easy there, tiger. You’re not on a field trip, you’re breaking the ice so we can get our feet in the door.

  Crap. There was Jack again, whispering over his shoulder. And if he turned around right now he just knew he’d see the man himself glaring at him, willing the geek-boy anthropologist to get the hell on with it and enough with the chit-chat already!

  Shut up, Jack. My mandate, remember?

  “So, Lotar,” he said. “How many sunrises have you been here now?”

  “This is the third sunrise of my passing time, Daniel.”

  Three days and the MALPs had missed filming her every time. What were the odds? Sam could tell him. Not that it mattered much in the grand scheme of things. What mattered was he’d met Lotar now, established a pretty decent working rapport… and the heady rush of discovery was bubbling through his veins like vintage Dom Perignon.

  “And does Bhuiku have a passing time too?”

  Again, Lotar’s skin tinted and her gaze dropped downwards. “Yes. But it is not for a girl to know or speak of.”

  Right. Of course not. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He’d ask Bhuiku that in person, later, once they’d made contact with Lotar’s village. For now he should focus on the job at hand before Jack lost his temper and ruined what promised to be a beautiful friendship. “Lotar, when you came to the shrine with your flowers for the gods, didn’t you wonder what those strange machines were near the chappa’ai?”

  “Machines?” She shook her head. “What is machines?”

  “Oh. Ah — the funny looking things — ” Helplessly, he tried to form their shapes with his hands. “Made of metal. On caterpillar wheels. Used to collect information. And you have no idea what I’m talking about. The things. The strange things.” He pointed. “Here, on the plinth. You were expecting to see them again but they were gone when you got back with your flowers. Those things.”

  Her confused expression cleared. “Oh! Yes! I thought they might be Jaffa sent by the gods to guard their doorway.” She shrugged. “When I saw they were gone I thought the gods had called them home.”

  “So you haven’t told anyone about them?”

  “No. I was alone here till you came, Daniel, and I cannot return to my village before I have finished my passing time. If I do, the gods will curse me with sickly children, or worse.”

  Damn. If they wanted Lotar to introduce SG-1 to her village that could be a problem. No way would Jack agree to hang around here for seven days while she finished her ritual. He’d have to think about that. In the meantime…

  “Lotar, you said you thought the machines were Jaffa. So you know about Jaffa?”

  She shivered. “Oh yes. From little children we are told of the Jaffa. The Jaffa will come and eat us in our beds if we are not obedient.”

  Poor Teal’c. Talk about having to live down your reputation… Resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder to where Teal’c and the others were still patiently — or probably not so patiently — waiting, Daniel focused on giving Lotar his most reassuring smile.

  “Lotar, I’m really grateful you’re so willing to talk to me, especially about such personal and important things. You’ve been very brave, very trusting, and I want you to know how much that means to me.”

  “You are strange, Daniel,” she said, smiling, “but I do not fear you.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “My heart tells me when I should be afraid.”

  “Really?” he said. “Wow. That’s great. Thank you. So. There’s something else I need to tell you.”

  “About the gods?” she said, looking at the shrine.

  “No. About me. You see, I didn’t come through the chappa’ai alone.” He lifted a hand and beckoned with one finger. “Sam?” he said, raising his voice. “You want to join us? Just you. For now. And no — ” He thought hard. “Decorations?”

  A moment later Sam, minus her weaponry, stepped out of the concealing shadows into the sunlight.

  “Hello, Lotar,” she said. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

  For the second time Lotar’s scarlet flowers tumbled to the rocky ground. Then the girl flung herself face down before Sam, visibly trembling.

  “You cannot be human! You must be a god!”

  Exactly the kind of pronouncement guaranteed to horrify Sam. “Daniel…”

  Gently he took Lotar by the shoulders and eased her out of her desperate prostration. “Lotar, Lotar, it’s all right. She’s not a god, she’s human like you. She’s one of my dearest friends. Her name is Sam.”

  Reaching them, Sam dropped to a crouch before the overcome girl and took one small olive-skinned hand in both of hers. “Daniel’s right, Lotar. See? I’m flesh and blood.”

  Lotar’s eyes were enormous. “But — but your hair,” she stammered, and averted her gaze as though afraid the audacity of staring at Sam would see her punished. “Your hair is gold, like the gold we give the gods. No human has hair of gold. You must be a god, or some creature made by a god.”

  “Damn,” Sam murmured, her face full of compassion. Simmering beneath that, a terrible rage. Daniel knew exactly how she felt. “Lotar, look at me. Look at me.”

  Obedient to Sam’s insistence, Lotar looked up.

  “I am a woman, just like you,” said Sam, her eyes intent. “A few years older but no different. No better. Where I come from — where our people come from, yours and mine — many women have gold hair. Or brown. Or red. Lots of shades in between. None of us are gods. We’re all like you.”

  Lotar’s gaze shifted, and she stared at the Stargate. “A flesh and blood woman? From this place called Earth?”

  “That’s right.”

  Calmer now, Lotar continued staring at the gate. Then she looked again at Sam. “Can I touch your gold hair?”

  Startled, Sam blinked. “Oh! Ah — well — yeah. Sure. If it’ll help convince you I’m not a god.”

  Holding her breath, Lotar reached out and touched Sam’s short blond hair with reverent fingers. “So soft! Like sunshine.” She leaned closer. “And your eyes! They are like Daniel’s eyes. I have never seen sky eyes before, or hair like golden sunshine.”

  For the second time she burst into tears.

  “Oh crap,” said Daniel. “Ah… Sam?”

  Shooting him a look, Sam wrapped Lotar in her arms and let the girl weep unhindered. “It’s okay. I know this is
hard. We’ve turned your world upside down, Lotar. I’m sorry.”

  Stabbed with fresh guilt, Daniel watched and waited as Sam calmed the girl. “I think we should get the rest of the introductions over with,” he murmured. “Better one big shock now than dragging out all the little shocks.”

  “Agreed,” said Sam. “And not just for her sake. The colonel’s really antsy. He wants to get a move on.”

  “Yeah. I kind of figured. Lotar? Lotar, there’s something else you need to know.”

  Sam loosened her comforting grasp and the girl eased back to look at him. “Yes, Daniel?”

  “Three more friends came with me to Adjo. They’d like to meet you. I know you’re upset, but…”

  “No. I am all right,” said Lotar. “I would like to meet them. I was foolish to weep.”

  “Good for you,” he said, and got to his feet. Then he held out his hand to her. “Of all the people we could’ve met first on Adjo, I’m pleased we met you.”

  Smiling brilliantly now, she took his hand and let him help her to stand. “I am also pleased, Daniel.”

  As Sam stood too, Daniel raised his voice. “Okay, Jack. Lotar’s eager to meet you. She’s a wonderful girl, completely harmless.” So please take the hint and leave your guns behind, all of you.

  And ten seconds later there was Jack, with Teal’c and Dixon a step behind and on each side. Weaponless, thank God.

  “Lotar,” said Jack. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you…” A sidewise flickering glance. “At last.”

  Daniel pulled a face. “All good things come to those who wait. Lotar, this is my friend Jack.” He pointed. “And this is David.” He pointed again. “And this is Teal’c.”

  He held his breath then, knowing Jack and the others did too, in case Lotar realized that Teal’c was a genuine Jaffa. One of the monsters who ate children in their beds.

  But somewhere in three thousand years of isolation the physical truth of the Jaffa must have been lost because Lotar showed no fear at all. Instead she gravely inspected each new man’s face, one after the other.

  Dixon smiled, his eyes warm. “Hey, Lotar. Nice to meet you.”

  Teal’c said nothing, but inclined his head with great dignity.

  “Friends of Daniel, you are welcome to Adjo,” said Lotar. “The gods have blessed me in my passing time.”

  “The gods, eh?” said Jack. “Well, yippee for them.”

  “Jack,” Daniel said warningly, as Sam skewered their colonel with a sharp glance.

  Oblivious to both warning and glare, Jack dusted his hands together. “So boys and girls, now we’re all friends and there’s been lots and lots and lots of chitchat, what say we get our gear and make tracks? I’ll bet Lotar’s just dying to show us off to her pals.”

  Bewildered, Lotar turned. “Daniel?”

  He sighed. “What Jack means, Lotar, is that we need to speak with the leaders of your village. Can you take us to them?”

  She nodded. “Oh. Of course. When I have completed my passing time I will take you to the Elders.”

  As Jack opened his mouth, Daniel turned, forestalling. “It’s an important ritual. It’ll be finished in a week.”

  “A week? You want us to wait a week? Out here?” said Jack. “Ah — I don’t think so, Daniel.”

  Daniel swallowed another sigh, smiled at Lotar, then took Jack by the sleeve and tugged him aside. “Jack, please. Do you want to spook her?”

  “No, I want you to tell her we’re not twiddling our thumbs out here for a week while she picks flowers for a pair of dead snakeheads!”

  Oh boy. “Jack, listen. I — ”

  “No, Daniel, you listen,” Jack said, snapped right back into uncompromising mode. “I’ve given you all the latitude I can. We’ve got our orders. Make contact with the locals and establish the ground rules for preliminary mineral surveys ASAP.”

  Sometimes it was so hard, keeping his temper with Jack. “Yes, I know, but — ”

  Jack’s glare was incendiary. “Enough, Daniel. We’re heading for Lotar’s village. Now do you want to tell her she’s been hired as our native guide, or shall I?”

  “All right. I’ll talk to her. I’ll ask if her she’ll come with us. But if she doesn’t want to I have to respect her wishes. And so do you.”

  Scowling, Jack nodded. “Yeah. Right. Whatever.”

  His philosophy in a nutshell. “Okay then. Give me a few minutes and some privacy and I’ll do my best.”

  Another nod. “A few minutes.”

  Feeling so guilty his stomach hurt, Daniel took the young girl aside. “I know it’s a big thing to ask, Lotar, and I wouldn’t ask… except it’s so important. Not just to us, but to your people too. Please, take us to your Elders. We’ll make sure they don’t punish you.”

  She was silent for a long time, staring at the rocky red ground. Then she looked up. “All right, Daniel.”

  He could’ve shouted with relief. “Great. That’s great. Thank you, Lotar. I promise you won’t regret it.” Turning, he nodded to Jack.

  “Okay!” Jack announced, turning to the rest of the team. “Time to get this show on the road.”

  Teal’c heard one of his team mates stir as Adjo’s sun broke free of the distant horizon. He did not have to look to know it was O’Neill. SG-1’s leader was always the first to wake.

  “O’Neill,” he said quietly, as his friend joined him after retreating a discreet distance from the camp to empty his bladder. It was a constant wonder to him how humans so often prevailed against their adversaries, given the fragility of their physiology. Such frequent thirst and hunger, the constant need for bodily eliminations, the way they had to sleep so often and for so long. Their fragile bones that broke so easily, how swiftly they succumbed to disease and pain. They were not what anyone could call a robust species.

  But it was easy to see why the Goa’uld had abandoned the Unas to make humans their new, preferred hosts. The Unas were hardier, there was no question of that. But the Goa’uld worshipped beauty and the Unas were not beautiful.

  And after all, the Goa’uld had their Jaffa to do — what did O’Neill call it? Ah, yes. Their heavy lifting.

  In his belly the incubating Goa’uld larva twisted, dreaming its dreams of galactic domination. Perhaps sensing its helpless caretaker’s despair and laughing to feel it.

  Indeed they were a pitiless race.

  Standing in silent companionship, O’Neill watched with him as Adjo’s sun chased the night’s shadows out of the wide, shallow valley they camped above. On the valley floor below squatted Lotar’s village, one hundred and eight-four dwellings spread along the banks of the river winding down from the opposite side of the valley.

  He knew how many dwellings there were because he had counted. First rule of engagement: know all you can know about a potential enemy, as swiftly as you are able to know it.

  At this distance he could not see the entrance to the abandoned mine the UAV had captured on film but that was unimportant. It was there, the cause of this mission. The cause of trouble, perhaps, if he had been right.

  For the sake of us all I hope I am wrong.

  But he feared he was not. To borrow one of O’Neill’s favorite phrases, he had a bad feeling about this.

  I wish there was a god I could believe in so I might ask it for help. For protection. I am one Jaffa. I fear I will not be strong enough to protect my people this time.

  Sensing his disquiet, as he so often sensed many things, O’Neill glanced sideways. “If I can put up with Dixon, you can put up with being here.”

  “Colonel Dixon has done nothing to challenge or disturb your authority.”

  O’Neill pulled a face. “Not yet. But he will.”

  “You have no evidence on which to base that assertion.”

  “I don’t need evidence.”

  Teal’c let his lips curve, just a little. “Because you have your gut?”

  “Damn right I’ve got my gut.”

  He nodded. “As I have mine, O’Ne
ill.”

  “Yeah,” O’Neill sighed. “Dammit.”

  With his booted toes O’Neill scuffed at the leaf litter they stood on. High overhead a v-shape formation of wide-winged birds arrowed through the blushing sky. Closer, in the surrounding trees, smaller birds trilled a welcome to the dawn. Buzzing beneath that a soft drone, as behind them Daniel Jackson snored in his sleeping bag.

  “Y’know, Teal’c,” he added, his half-lidded gaze brooding upon the village below them, “I could be imagining things… but does that village look a bit small? Smaller than it needs to be, I mean?”

  Teal’c considered the distant collection of dwellings. “It is not large,” he conceded. “But many of the villages we have encountered have not been large.”

  “Yeah, but that’s because they get culled by the Goa’uld on a regular basis. These people have been out of the loop a hell of a time. And without TV as a distraction human beings tend to breed like rabbits.”

  He permitted himself another small smile. “If Earth’s current population is any guide, O’Neill, even with the distraction of popular entertainment human beings breed like rabbits.”

  O’Neill snorted softly. “Yeah.”

  “You could ask Lotar,” he suggested. “She might possess an explanation.”

  Another soft snort. “Yeah. That’s likely.”

  “It is your choice, O’Neill,” he said, shrugging.

  “Yeah,” said O’Neill, and once more lapsed into silence.

  Shadow by shadow, the sun climbed above the far lip of the valley’s ridgetop. Three more arrowheads of birds flew overhead. A soft breeze rose, rustling leaves, stirring scents from hidden wildflowers. New birdsong drifted from the branches above them, descant to the already trilling soprano.

  O’Neill shoved his hands in his pockets. “Daniel better not keep us hanging round for half the day while he goes through his elaborate meet-and-greet routine with the locals. We burned enough daylight yesterday going slow for Lotar’s sake.”

  He sounded aggrieved. Ready to find fault even though Daniel Jackson had not yet woken. “You may find his methods tedious, O’Neill, but it is unlikely that any of us could have persuaded Lotar to abandon her passing time ritual in favor of leading us the fastest way to her village. In doing so he has saved us much time.”