CHAPTER 1
"Well, this is exciting."
Daniel eyed Jack suspiciously as the M.A.L.P. made its unsteady way back through the gate; for once, he thought Jack might actually mean that. Not, however, in reference to the clusters of shrubs bordering lilypad-filled ponds, or the cascading flower and rock gardens surrounding this offworld stargate. Exciting solely for what this world might harbor.
Exciting for Teal'c, too, no doubt, who was convinced the land they were here visiting, Luok'shuo, would allow them to find technology to battle the Goa'uld and free all Jaffa, the Utopia of which he'd so long dreamed. It hadn't actually taken much to convince him; the simple suggestion that this was a world free from Goa'uld rule had brought light to Teal'c's eyes and determination to his face, his body almost geared to depart the very instant he'd heard of this world. The vision of such a moment when he could clasp his brothers' forearms and declare the Goa'uld empire over and done with forever, was always a permanent layer just slightly below the surface of his consciousness, there to be toyed with and nurtured, yet so far from present fulfillment that his brother Jaffas thought him to be insane. Here, now, he was ready to go, ready to begin his intense search for freedom once again, and he would never give up no matter how bleak the last mission nor how unenlightened his people. It was these colleagues, here beside him now, from this First World, who had not only given him hope but who were the most likely instruments of his people's future salvation.
Had that Tok'ra, Yarrden, not claimed that this was a world which might be of interest to the Tau'ri, they would never have known of this place. While the Tok'ra were distantly engaged in their games of "Spy and Tell Only What Suited Them", any world high in technology always had Pentagon ears perking up, and the good snakes knew that. What the Tok'ra might ask for later in exchange still placed that large hovering question mark over their heads, but that was for later; now was the moment for investigation and discovery.
"I thought you didn't trust Tok'ra intel, Jack."
"I don't."
Now, Daniel thought maybe Jack's former statement had been sarcasm after all... interwoven with thin shreds of hope.
"The Tok'ra did say there was nothing they could use here, sir, while we might find something beneficial to ourselves."
"Yes, they did." And that was all Jack was willing to concede to the Tok'ra. He'd keep an open mind.
"Although, they did say their informant was only here for two days," Daniel reminded them. In that time, the Tok'ra Yarrden had reported he'd seen nothing indicative of imposed labor, of servitude or fear; on the contrary, the city dwellers had achieved a high level of technological development. Yarrden had not been interested; while it was indeed wonderful that here was a planet free of Goa'uld domination, the Tok'ra were after yet more Goa'uld who were still out there wreaking havoc. Wallowing in others' victories wasn't part of their game. Still, the peoples' claim that they had been free from slavery for many decades had caught the attention of the SGC.
"I believe they have technology that will prove useful in fighting the Goa'uld," Teal'c insisted.
"Nothing good enough for the Tok'ra, though," Daniel reiterated smugly.
"So, something to check out. We know that. And we've been here for, oh, two minutes," Jack reluctantly agreed. "So let's not waste more time." He looked around for the best route to take to those tall reflective buildings, the ones glimmering in the sunlight, not too far off in the distance. Four or five miles, he estimated. Gardens, gardens, everywhere. Was the stargate in the middle of a park, or maybe a community square? Whatever. The city looked like a good place to start; besides, the Tok'ra told them they'd find a place there - in the downtown area - to camp out. "Isn't someone supposed to be meeting us?"
"Colonel!"
"Watch out!" Daniel grabbed Jack's arm, pulling him out of the way as a man came charging straight towards them, seemingly oblivious to the newcomers, intent on evading another who was in quick pursuit. One could almost have seen the wind in motion behind them, so quick was their passage, and once recovering from the surprise, Jack made a show of holding tight to his cap. Neither of the runners seemed to take notice of the surprised foursome as they raced across the lawn onto the pedestrian foot bridge beyond. SG-1's eyes tracked them as the two locals continued the chase down the mosaicked path; there, finally caught by his pursuer, the fleeing man was knocked to the ground. Rolling over and over each other, punches flying, they appeared determined to cause injury.
"Jack? Shouldn't we - "
"No."
"What?" Daniel eyed Jack brazenly.
"Daniel, we are not - "
"O'Neill." There was a curious urgency in Teal'c's voice, enticing his teammates to swing around. Jack sent a discreet, triumphant look Daniel's way. Saved by the Jaffa.
What they saw now, forced all memories of the dispute to vanish into history.
Teal'c was standing beside a seven-foot long, four-foot high oblong glass object, rounded at both ends, that hadn't been there two minutes before. Now, to the left of their waiting platform and just beyond the gate itself, the unmanned, transparent, enclosed object was hovering, a panel open lengthwise along its side.
"I believe we are being offered transportation."
"That what that is?" Jack sauntered over eagerly but warily, staring into the opening in the side of the module as it levitated waist-high. It looked like it could be an aircraft. Or a mini-rocket. Sort of a small glass blimp. There were seats. White, opaque, foam-thickness rubbery, with side edges that curled slightly inwards. "You trust it?"
Now he heard what Teal'c had already discovered; inside, a deep voice was speaking.
"Teal'c?"
"He speaks Goa'uld. There is a communications device within."
"Goa'uld?" Jack screwed his face up in consternation, catching himself when he remembered that Goa'uld was Teal'c's first language, too. Not necessarily ominous, in and of itself. The Tok'ra had said this planet was mostly bilingual, Goa'uld and English, a remnant from days past of Goa'uld dominance. "What's he saying?"
"Our arrival has been noted. We are to be transported to accommodation."
"Hotel shuttle?"
At Teal'c's frown, Jack heard Daniel beside him. "Or something."
"This must be what the Tok'ra meant by our being met upon arrival, sir." Sam's overeager brain was already searching for the technology that operated this thing. From this exterior angle, she could see nothing. No engine, no controls, just a one-inch round hole in the ceiling from where the voice had originated, filling the cabin. Single Hole Surround Sound; not bad. Sam stood on her toes but couldn't see the top of the module, although she doubted that the hole went straight through. Not if there was a speaker of some sort connected to it within.
"Ah. Of course it is."
"Jack?" Daniel's eyes had shifted from the unusual transparent floating bullet; now, Jack followed Daniel's gaze back towards the gardens. On the lawns, people were milling around, attending to various needs, nothing odd. But there, right across the walkway, was a family who was not doing anything… anything. Still as statues, enclosed in a huddle with heads bowed, they weren't moving a muscle.
"Daniel?"
"Those people. They're just standing there."
"I can see that. And?"
"My guess? I'd say they're praying."
"I think Daniel might be right, sir." Sam agreed, nodding. A few moments later, as one, the small group lifted their heads and continued nonchalantly on their way.
"That would be consistent with a society that isn't controlled by an overt, tangible presence," Daniel theorized, "such as the Goa'uld. Free to choose their own beliefs and rituals out in the open, with no fear of retribution."
"So, the Tok'ra may have been right." Jack acquiesced. He still wasn't taking anything for granted.
"Indeed." Teal'c was almost smiling.
"Then again, they might have been listening to the birds," Jack cocked his head, and turned back to the glass flying thing.
His attention was shaken by loud shouting, and he turned abruptly as yet another fight broke out, barely thirty feet away.
Fights… could they be more evidence of dead false gods? Daniel wondered. Lax societal rules, a symptom of lawlessness? Daniel felt troubled, his mind ablaze with concerns as to how SG-1 might be of service to these people. Not that he'd run such a possibility by Jack; the team leader was here for intel only, and would just accuse him of trying to get in the way of yet another world. Daniel knew he should just step back and learn to be more objective and accepting of the things he witnessed offworld; as an archeologist his job had always been to discover, not to judge. But for some reason there seemed to be this flaw in his personality that always needed to meddle, that couldn't stand to see anyone unhappy. His musings were abruptly interrupted, and Daniel scolded himself. He knew better than to lose concentration on a mission.
"Okay, let's go check in," Jack advised, turning away from the altercation, more than ever now not wanting to get in the middle of one of these seemingly frequent disputes. Pausing, he tapped the outer surface of the shuttle in curiosity.
"I don't think it's glass, sir. Probably some crystalline derivative, to ensure its strength."
"Crystal...ish?"
"Close enough, sir."
Glancing at his astrophysicist, Jack took notice of her imp...ish grin as she bent low and climbed into the middle seat. Someone would be having fun here.
Jack draped out his arm, offering a crooked smile at Daniel. "After you. Buckle up."
"There's a buckle?"
As soon as SG-1 was strapped into the car, the white ridges of the seat backs and platforms curling loosely around their limbs to keep them secure - although they could slide free of the gentle holds with a bit of maneuvering - the vehicle lifted and was airborne. Jack and Teal'c up front, Daniel and Sam behind them, the vehicle could hold two more in the rear.
"Cool," Jack beamed approvingly as he leaned over, his nose pressed to the transparent glass facsimile. He could look out both the front and side at the same time, for it was all one big window anyway, as the thing floated high above the criss-crossing grid pattern of walkways interspersed with green lawns and flower gardens. There were no controls, but the voice at the other end had returned, welcoming the team, sounding throughout the cabin. It would not, however, respond to questions; more than likely it was a recording. "Smooth." Beside him, Teal'c stared straight ahead. "Maybe we can negotiate for a few of these."
"And ride them around Colorado Springs?" Daniel was watching out the bottom of the unit, observing the people below, doing his best to get a handle on whatever he could see. While most individuals were engaging in common tasks, or just out strolling, pausing by fountains to sit, a few were bowed in unmotion. One group of what looked from this height like teenagers, were jumping on each other with fists flying. The discrepancies were apparent and obvious, a puzzle that would need further study.
"No, downtown L.A. Who'd notice?" Jack shrugged.
There was no comeback from the middle row.
"Daniel?" With no controls that she could examine, nothing but the golf-ball sized hole in the ceiling between the colonel and Teal'c, Sam turned her attention to her other teammate, noticing him deep in thought. "You okay?"
"Fine, Sam. Just watching what's going on."
"We can go out walking later, talk to people. Maybe we can find a library with archives." And science texts.
Daniel nodded mutely, returning his gaze to the street below. The street way down there under his feet. The whole elongated bubble was one big see-through chunk of clear crystalline substance; it was rather disconcerting to look down and see nothing below him but the slightly distant tops of people's heads.
"Whoa."
Daniel glanced up at Jack's whistle, and his own breath caught. Another transparent shuttle was crossing in front of them, at a distance of about a hundred feet ahead. In fact, a few of these things were flying around the skies as though they were public taxis. With the sky visible though their surfaces, and the white seats within resembling clouds, the vehicles were almost camouflaged while airborne. Yet, now that he looked more closely, Daniel could count at least seven of these modules scattered around the neighboring sky.
SG-1 was approaching the city; tall buildings spread out, looming up to fourteen or fifteen storeys high, with the fanciest architecture they'd ever seen. The craft was heading straight towards some building complexes with flower-like glass protrusions encircling their upper floors, multiple rooms looking like misty petals on tall green or brown stems. Together, the groupings - each of a dozen or so buildings - formed sculptures, gardens in the air. Glass flowers, above sparkling fountains flowing with colored water into large manmade pools.
"Judging from those buildings and these shuttles," Daniel motioned around them with his head, "it looks as though there haven't been any Goa'uld around to stop the advancement of technology."
"That would be the reason we're here, Daniel."
"I'm just saying." But Daniel's eyes went wider as the air-vehicle continued to threaten a head-on collision with one of the center buildings, and his hands tried to close around the contoured folds of his seat. "Uh… are we supposed to be doing that?" He questioned anxiously.
Jack's glare was pasted to the approaching view in front of them, an undisputed collision course; by his estimate, they had one minute before crashing into that Polaroid-darkened glass tower. "Talk to the thing! Daniel? Teal'c?" Goa'uld. He couldn't communicate in Goa'uld.
"Um...hello? We're heading straight for a building!" Daniel looked up, talking rapidly in Goa'uld to the hole in the ceiling. There was no response.
"Carter!" Jack was trying not to panic; he could leave that to Daniel. He couldn't, however, deny that any moment now there would be a nice loud crash-bang from their seats at point zero, about a hundred feet up in the air.
"Sir, I can't find any way to manually control this craft." Sam had tried sticking her fingers in that golf ball-sized hole. It was… just a hole.
"So far the aircraft has known what to do, O'Neill." Teal'c's calm voice probably wasn't just the façade that theirs had been; O'Neill suspected that Teal'c might actually be somewhat calmer than he was.
"So far it's only gone straight, Teal'c! Maybe they think we know how to operate it? Or stop it?"
With no other plan of action, SG-1 could do nothing but hold their breaths as the module pushed rapidly ahead, flying underneath one of those petal-like protrusions, each of which - now that they were so up close - they could estimate at approximately thirty feet in diameter. Directly below their position was a huge pool, with a fountain spurting in a variety of directions. And in about fifteen seconds they would slam straight into the smoky quartz stem holding up the petals, a circular building core itself nearly half a block wide.
SG-1 sat frozen, staring straight out the window ahead, no one daring to interrupt the silence.
With the building's glass tiles looming directly in front of them and a body of shallow water far, far below, Daniel closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, bracing for the collision.
Instead, he felt the vehicle abruptly slow down and turn, and he whipped open his eyes. Smoothly spinning a half-circle it halted, its rear to the building, its nose now facing the direction from which they had just come.
Eyes wide and hearts pounding, finally the teammates resumed their normal breathing, still in silence. Overhead, from what they could tell through the roof of this thing, some sort of hatch was sliding open. Then the aircraft began to lift straight upward.
CHAPTER 2
The shuttle stopped rising and hovered, the panel along its side closest to Daniel and O'Neill now opening. Surrounding them was nothing but empty space.
"Um…are we supposed to get out?" Daniel questioned hesitantly, no one making a move.
"Maybe," Jack confirmed, dubiously. "How's your levitation these days? Good?" Looking down, he could see nothing to step on. Below his feet… below the aircraft… he could see a drop of, oh, about a hundred and twenty feet… and nothing at the bottom of that but a pool of water.
They stared, unmoving, gripping their seats for dear life. That was when the voice returned.
"Welcome to Sovereign Hall. Please disembark." Neither Sam nor O'Neill understood a word.
"Jack, he said we should get out."
Jack turned to view Daniel, a look of skepticism on his face. "Right. Easy for him to say, safe and snug in a little hole in the ceiling."
"We have entered the protuberance that rose above us. Therefore we must be within the interior of a glass expanse," Teal'c scrutinized the surroundings. He could see for miles.
A really, really, clean shiny glass expanse. With an open hatch below.
"Yeah, well, we're hovering in mid-air, so I might just pass on testing that."
They heard Carter gasp. "Um…sir? I don't think we're actually hovering any more. Well, I mean, we're hovering, but I think there's a floor here. The hatch must have closed." She squinted, trying to make sense of what she was sure her eyes were seeing. "Behind us, sir, at seven o'clock. Is that - " she paused.
A bed?
Jack twisted around - they all did - and peered through the rear of the shuttle. "Holy damn. Our hotel room?"
_____
When they had dared to slip out of the craft hovering at waist-height, they'd seen that there was not only a floor beneath their feet, albeit a glass - or wafer-thin unfaceted crystal, Sam suspected - floor, but a single semi-circular transparent wall curving upward into a glass, or similarly crystalline, ceiling, rising a good fifteen feet above their heads. The hatch beneath the shuttle had indeed closed. Through the ceiling they could clearly see sky and puffy clouds; below their feet, the sparkling water of a huge emerald pool. Water flowing down the central stem of the building and cascading over several layers of colored glass formed a waterfall into the pool, rippling gently eighty to a hundred feet below them. Except for the back wall, this room was one giant, elliptical, transparent bubble.
The far wall was slightly contoured, an opaque metallic blue, the only part of the room that was not made from the transparent material, although the adjoining ends of the glass walls were thick enough to block out the views into any neighboring suites. Against that curved back wall rested an hourglass-shaped bed draped in a rubbery, fitted, patterned cover. Several wide white oval benches, similar to the seats in the shuttle but quite a bit longer, protruded gently from the wall on either side of the bed. A rectangular aperture in the wall above the bed was unidentifiable; it could be a safe… or a microwave… Jack suggested hair dryer, but then agreed the position would be too uncomfortable for a normal human to use. Personal washing facilities were in an alcove by the doorway, waiting for Sam to figure them out.
"How come only one bed, d'ya think?"
"Perhaps the Tok'ra Yarrden did not mention we would be a team of four," Teal'c reasoned.
"Right. So we'll go down and talk to management." Unless this room had a telephone…?
"Actually, Jack, these benches are comfortable. I could sleep here." Daniel was testing one out, lying down. The rubbery substance seemed to mold to his body.
The team hadn't yet ventured from the room, but they had taken a peek into the hallway, a narrow circular corridor connecting the petals of the flower - at least ten rooms in total - with the building's core, a deep smoky crystal elevator shaft. The floor of the hallway was tiled in thick burgundy glass panels, a mosaic of interlocking shapes. Under the floor - and indeed, within it - seemed to be flowing water… a horizontal waterfall.
Now, back in the room, Jack was staring past his feet, into the pool eleven or twelve storeys below. Creepy, living inside a bubble. The floor itself wasn't exactly the kind of solid as they knew solid to be, either; no, it had a little give to it - probably to add strength and prevent breakage, Carter had surmised - and felt eerily as though they were standing on really strong plastic wrap.
"Something wrong?" The soft voice reminded Jack that Daniel was the one who hated heights, not him.
Jack shook his head. "Nope. Just wondering; if I open the hatch, think I could drop a line and fish from up here?"
Daniel stared at him for a moment, an incredulous glint in his eyes, then turned around to help Sam figure out the lavatory.
_____
"So, what do you say we head downstairs and find out what this Ritz charges," Jack was done staring at the water below for now; no matter how long he looked, that feeling of weirdness would not dissipate, having nothing but wobbly glass or crystal or plastic beneath his feet. The room jutted out as if it were floating alone in space; they could just as easily have been in an alien spaceship looking down, if not for the shuttle still hovering in mid-air in its parking spot halfway across the chamber. Cool as it was, Jack had to admit it was intimidating. It would be odd to sleep here tonight. Although they were used to seeing nothing but stars overhead on overnight missions, their derrieres were mostly always planted firmly on solid dark soil.
Talking of cool, there was air conditioning in here somewhere. Maybe from that hole in the wall above the bed. Ventilation, anyway, which was a good thing, seeing as Jack was pretty certain he wouldn't want the windows to open.
"I'm game." Daniel agreed, dragging himself away from the windowed walls, heart beating quickly with each step that had him feeling as though this floor would give way at any moment, plunging them to their deaths. He was still confused by the actions of those out on the street below. For the past ten minutes he'd continued to witness friendship, animosity, and what really did look like spontaneous prayer. "I'd like to walk around and talk to people."
"There's a surprise."
Teal'c was the first one to the door, which opened at their proximity, but the last one out of the room, as he bowed slightly to the others, allowing them to pass. Once in the hall, the door slid closed and clicked shut behind them.
"Uh, how do we get back in?" Daniel inquired slowly, frowning as he faced the door, waving his hands in front of it, finally trying to manually slide it open. There was no handle and it didn't budge.
"Oops. Think we were supposed to leave in the shuttle?"
"To where?" Daniel bit down gently on his lip as he stared at his CO. Carter looked uncertainly at them both, having noted the absence of a stairwell. Teal'c had an eyebrow raised through most of the brief interaction, but he offered no suggestions.
The central core seemed to sense them, however, for as Teal'c backed up, a huge panel slid upwards into the ceiling, allowing them entry into a circular mirrored enclosure.
"Nah, I'm thinking we can leave the car at home," Daniel nodded confidently, as Jack thumped him on the arm.
"You're good," the CO commended, stepping inside.
For several moments they stood there, searching for nonexistent controls; there were no elevator buttons to be found. This was so getting old… in its new-fangled sort of way.
"Okay, now what?" Jack queried, looking around before his gaze fell on Carter, then on Daniel, only to see the archeologist peering up at the ceiling. There was nothing up there but a golf-ball sized hole. "I'm starting to think we need a golf ball with our names on it to stick in those things," Jack suggested.
Daniel spoke in Goa'uld. "We'd like to go to reception, please." Nothing happened. He tried in English.
"Level one," Teal'c said, also in Goa'uld, and the panel slid downwards, sealing them in. The descent began, gentle and smooth.
"See?" Jack stated triumphantly, "I always say, the less said, the better." He might not understand Goa'uld, but he could count to two.
"That's good, Jack," Daniel nodded approvingly. "You have something in common with an elevator."
CHAPTER 3
"What's that equal to?" Jack looked on as Teal'c's pocketed the rest of the little colored glass stones, just inside the door of the lobby. The Tok'ra had given them a small pile of this local currency, and the hotel cashier had given them a flat, two inch square crystal card with which to activate their door, upon payment. Press the crystal upon the door - anywhere - and it would unlock, tuned to the inner vibrations. The crystal also activated the room's flying machine, in daylight. At night in the dark, so they'd been warned, the thing wouldn't fly.
To Sam's delight - and slight disappointment, as it answered almost nothing - they'd discovered how those shuttles operated. Okay, not so much "how", as "why"; that honkin' huge mound of multi-colored quartz crystal sitting in a pool of water right there in the lobby was the base station. The modules were operated by remote control from reception, not unlike, as Jack decided, children's toy airplanes. Apparently there was an entire network of invisible laser lines along which they ran. Or flew, from one point to the next, zigzagging invisibly across the lower sky, triggered by implants in the parking platforms of buildings and other solid landmarks. Some could, however, also be controlled manually, and Sam knew she had a lot of research to do before leaving this planet.
The reception clerk and cashier, sitting inside his own rainbow-tinted glass booth, had willingly answered some questions but not all. He spoke English as well as Goa'uld. "Ah, bilingualism. True indication of an upper class establishment", Jack had remarked appreciatively. Except, however, for the lack of tourist brochures. The man in the booth had not even been able to direct them to a local library. Inquiring about a city hall just brought a confused look to his eyes. "There's the State Station," he'd suggested, but it sounded too much like a law court or police headquarters to make them comfortable. It seemed all those arriving from the stargate were taken to accommodation towers such as this one… and those folks apparently all knew where they were going and what they were doing here.
Now 'here' was where they stood, at one of the fourteen wide sliding doors to the outside world, the high ceilings of the lobby glittering in multi-layered, over-lapping geometric panels of the same tinted crystalline material. Carter was still staring at the huge round chunk of faceted crystal sitting in that low pool, the big gem trickling water all along its surfaces from the top down. It would take her days to analyze how this worked in conjunction with the laser lines, and she wondered if every home had one as well. Maybe they were just for major businesses or hotels; there hadn't been that many shuttles out and about, earlier in the day. Did the size of the hunk limit the distance the modules could travel, or where they could go?
"I believe it equals approximately nine hundred and eleven dollars, forty-four point three cents," Teal'c calculated.
Daniel's mouth dropped open, his eyes connecting with Jack's. For one night?
Jack whistled. "Point three, huh? You'd think we might have a jacuzzi."
"We do have a private airport shuttle, sir," Carter interjected, her attention having re-entered the present conversation at the mention of nine hundred dollars. There was something to be said for sleeping in tents.
"And a view," Daniel added.
"So, well worth the American tax payer's money. How much did the Tok'ra trade us?"
"We have enough for one more night, O'Neill."
Yeah, keep Teal'c in charge of the money. That way when Hammond asked for the expense account, they could all look his way with innocent eyes. Beats me, sir. We didn't have a choice of hotels. Jack motioned towards the doors. "Shall we?" Dramatically snapping his fingers and stepping forward, the doors sensed motion, five of the fourteen sliding into each other and then into the slits in the smoky crystalline walls.
The street was a wonder, with its oddly-sculpted buildings in rainbow colors, faux glass-garden office and hotel complexes towering over their heads, making them feel like ants at a picnic. Then there were the fountains; many, many fountains, complete with manmade garden waterfalls. Little spurts of water in rows; huge gushing geysers; peacock fantails of water; jets of mist. Everywhere they looked, water flowed upwards, outwards, inwards, into pools of silky, glistening basins painted in such a variety of pastel shades that their eyes barely had time to adjust. Flowers - real live ones - bordered every circumference and perimeter. Bright, beautiful, and serene.
It took a good five minutes of turning and staring for SG-1 to absorb it all.
"Wow. It certainly is decorative," Sam said lamely, just to break the silence. People walked by in pastel panels of clothing; multiple lengths of fabric, folded and draped. Most had small colorful stars or crescent moonshapes on their foreheads.
"Jewellery?" Daniel asked hopefully, not wanting them to be anything else.
"This does not appear to be a Goa'uld dominated world," Teal'c declared realistically, knowing exactly what Daniel was thinking. "I do not believe those to be Goa'uld symbols." Or tattoos.
Daniel had already found something else to capture his attention; gazing off towards a far lawn, he watched as three people huddled close together, heads bowed inward. "Interesting."
"What?" Jack looked around.
"They just stopped. Suddenly, as though their power was switched off."
"And that makes sense." Although Daniel's statement had sounded bizarre, Jack did see what his teammate was referring to; two men and a woman in a neighboring garden were kneeling in place, motionless, their backs facing outwards, forming a tiny, enclosed circle. Whatever they might be doing, or not doing, Jack couldn't tell from this distance and angle. He doubted, though, that they were listening to birds. "Okay, a bit old to be playing marbles."
After another few moments the three stood up and continued nonchalantly on their way.
"Or maybe a lost contact lens," Jack shrugged, dismissing the curiosity. Daniel was interested in the people, Carter the crystal technology, and Jack knew he really wanted to bargain for one of those shuttles, although with a hotel room at nine hundred dollars a night he had a sinking feeling it wouldn't come cheap. Then there was Teal'c, who wanted to know how these people had rid themselves of the Goa'uld; so did he. That was their true purpose here, and the one that would have to take precedence. To accomplish everything else might take weeks, yet Jack knew that in order to discover anything useful to Earth, Daniel would have to talk to the people and Carter would have to study the technology. It all became part of the parcel, and therefore, they had a lot of business to cover in a short amount of time. One more night and they'd be out of local currency.
Two more men stopped, not far along the path, and knelt down, still as statues.
"What the hell is going on?" Daniel wondered out loud. "If they're praying, we have to find out who or what they believe in."
"Let's get out there and find out. Carter, Daniel…" Jack motioned with his thumb, "you two go that way. Teal'c, with me. Head out around the block and meet back here in one hour."
_____
"Hey! Watch it!" The shove nearly knocked him down, but the man didn't even seem to notice, as he raced away from a second, older man, barreling across their path. The one in the rear wielded a thick stick. What, did they reenact this scene hourly? Jack could've sworn they'd been through this before.
"There appears to be much unlawful behavior in this city," Teal'c remarked.
"Ya think?" Jack keyed his radio. "Unless the ones in pursuit are cops." Both men had been wearing the flowing local attire; maybe it was the color that mattered. "Daniel. Carter. Come in."
"We hear you, Jack."
"You two okay?"
"We're fine, sir. How about you?"
"We're good. Find anyone to talk to yet?"
"Not really, Jack. People just keep shying away when we try to ask them anything personal. And I don't think we're using the right terms for 'government building' or 'library'."
Jack scowled impatiently, wanting something more helpful. "Okay, keep trying."
"Yes, sir."
Teal'c twitched. "I would like to inquire about past Goa'uld activity in the region, O'Neill."
"Yeah. Figured you might."
_____
He saw her before Sam did. The young woman was trying to shove her companion out of the way, slapping at his face, but the man's grasp on her elbow looked painful and tight. Kicking his shin, the woman almost broke free.
"Stop!" Daniel rushed over. Grabbing the man's arm, he yanked him away from her, stumbling but remaining upright.
"Daniel!"
Twisting out of Daniel's grasp, the man caught a glimpse of Sam behind him and ferociously lunged at her, his motion swift and precise. Jumping to avoid contact, Sam tripped on the low rocks in the soft earth bordering the flower bed, falling as Daniel tackled the man to the ground. The guy had gone after Sam for no reason other than her proximity, and Daniel'd be damned if he'd rely on her to initiate the intervention.
Struggling under Daniel's grip, the man swore and cursed, thrashing until suddenly he was right side up and Daniel was flat on his stomach.
"Ow!" Daniel rolled over, the sharp kick to his head stinging. For a brief moment he lay there, stunned.
"Daniel!" Sam was at his side, bending to look into his eyes. When she saw them open and lucid, she turned in anger to the woman. "What did you do that for? He was trying to help you." But the woman's words were in Goa'uld, and the scowl on her face turned Sam's blood cold.
Then with a kick in the flower bed that threw dirt up into Daniel's face, the woman turned to her companion, and together they ran off across the lawn, watched by the two confused members of SG-1. Daniel was now sitting up, Sam kneeling at his side. Beyond a small clover-shaped pond the two locals stopped, face to face in argument, then turned to stand still as statues, heads bowed, in the shadow of a grove of trees.
"Daniel? You okay?" Sam's voice pulled her teammate out of his mesmerized trance.
"Um. Yes. I think so," Daniel stood up slowly, accepting the offered hand, brushing off the soil and grass.
"What was she saying?" Sam asked, gently touching the side of his head to feel for a lump. There was just a small one. "She had no business doing that to you."
"She said, euphemistically translated, 'mind your own… um, damn business'." He peered at Sam more closely. "Did he hurt you?"
"No, Daniel. I tripped. I'm fine."
"Okay. What do you say we go find Jack and Teal'c?"
Sam didn't move, her gaze locked on another unmoving group of people, her frown intensifying.
"Sam? Hey. You're starting to look like one of them," he teased.
"What?" She turned back to her patiently waiting teammate. "Oh, sorry. Daniel, do you remember P3X-289, that domed planet we visited?"
"The one that kept shrinking?"
"Right. Their people wore those neural links that interfaced with the databank. Remember what happened when the computer was uploading?"
Realization dawned in Daniel's eyes. "They all froze for a few seconds."
"Right."
He looked around, puzzled; some of the people were now moving as though they had never stopped. "And you think these people are connected to some program? They're not all stopping at the same time, Sam."
"What I'm thinking, Daniel, is that these people are not as free as we hoped they were."
_____
"And you're fine?" The sharp, clipped question held a truckload of implications and connotations.
"I'm fine, Jack."
"Back to the room." Jack's tight, closed expression, along with the hand on Daniel's elbow turning him around, had Daniel suspecting something else had not gone well. Something other than the little altercation he and Sam had related as nonchalantly as they'd been able, for the severe look on Jack's face had been there from the moment they'd regrouped.
"Jack? What happened?"
"Tell you in the room."
The team trudged on in subsequent silence. Daniel turned his head to stare at the people as they walked, people who were showing signs of anger, prayer, or engaged in nothing more conspicuous than sitting by a fountain in a garden munching this world's version of junk food. But neither Jack nor Teal'c, Daniel observed, were bothering to notice any of that, nor did they seem inclined to conversation. Picking up on the mood, he remained silent, now and then exchanging puzzled glances with Sam.
CHAPTER 4
The view would always be disconcerting.
Their breaths hitched upon entering the room, that huge bubble of thin smooth transparency jutting out over space and emptiness, emerald green pools of water beneath them, a panoramic view over the gardens and architecture of an alien world. A world they knew as P4X-959, or Luok'shuo, a Goa'uld word meaning 'Eternity'.
Teal'c aimed straight for the window, where he paused with hands clasped behind him and his back to the room and the team. If Daniel hadn't known him better he'd have thought Teal'c was daydreaming.
Or pouting.
Jack plunked himself down on one of the long white benches, and prepared to clean a weapon.
Daniel exchanged looks with Sam. Jack was fuming, internally, and Daniel was sure it wasn't because of the fight he'd been in. He cleared his throat, and sat down on the empty bench alongside Jack's, ignoring the renewed surprise at the softness and malleability of what seemed to be rubbery plastic. "I don't know what you found out, Jack, but Sam and I think the people are being controlled by something, some organization or program, and that those pieces on their faces aren't just decorative."
"They're being controlled alright." Jack continued doing what he'd been doing, which tended towards redundant motion of polishing an already shiny and unused rifle, not looking up to make eye contact.
"Sir?"
Daniel licked at the inside of his cheek, massaging a small sting that he figured must be a cut. "Care to fill us in?" Jack was definitely worked up about something; this stony, icy demeanor was unsettling his own nerves.
"Fill them in, Teal'c."
Teal'c did not turn from the window, full First Prime solidity revealing the stoic warrior within. "We did not meet anyone who would reveal any knowledge of Jaffa or Goa'uld."
"Okay… but…?" This bench molded to Daniel's lower body as he shifted, like memory foam amplified by a thousand. It might not be a hit at Ikea, Daniel vaguely caught himself thinking, but Home Depot would sell out in a day.
Sam sat herself down on the edge of the bed, wondering at its comforting, sensual feeling, luring her to lie down.
"Teal'c?" Daniel found himself urging once more.
"We discovered what the inhabitants are doing when they cease their motion."
Oh-oh. Daniel bit his lip. "Not praying?"
"They are not."
"Worshipping, maybe." Jack corrected sarcastically.
"What?" This was like pulling someone else's feet from quicksand. Teal'c was upset and Jack was angry or annoyed. Daniel knew Teal'c would only be upset if he'd found out these people were not truly free, yet he said he hadn't spoken to anyone about that. Jack would be angry if he'd discovered a Goa'uld ruled this planet. "Okay, fine, we'll go back outside and find out for ourselves, if you don't want to tell us. Coming, Sam?"
"Stay, Daniel." Jack nodded toward his pack, dumped down by the door. "It's in there."
Puzzled and acutely curious, Daniel peeled himself off the bench and strode over to Jack's pack. Rummaging inside, he pulled out a purple pouch, much heavier than it looked. Opening it, removing the contents for Sam to see as well, what he was now holding in his palm was a round, metallic, purplish-gray ball with small Goa'uld symbols on a flat oval-shaped base. Numbers. It looked like one of two things: a modified Goa'uld shock grenade, or a mini crystal ball. Crystal bowling ball. Or… with a bit less imagination, one other possibility came to mind. "A Goa'uld communication device?" Daniel frowned. They'd seen a small one before, in the hands of a Tok'ra traitor, although this one was even smaller, like a large opaque snow globe. Judging by its weight, it had to contain naquada.
"We saw a couple of people putting them into those pouches they carry at their waists, right after they'd frozen for a minute or so."
"So you think they were talking to some Goa'uld?" Daniel's eyes were wide, suiting the shocked expression on his face, and Sam was listening intently, grim and pensive. "All those people who keep stopping, they're communicating with their… Goa'uld god?"
"False god," Teal'c corrected.
"You know what I mean."
"Colonel, where did you get this?" Carter had taken it from Daniel's hands, and was examining it closely.
"Quit touching it. I don't particularly want to alert whatever Goa'uld is at the other end," Jack admonished. "Found a stand selling them. Equivalent of thirty dollars," he added.
"What?" Daniel stared at Jack for a moment, then sidled up to Teal'c, who continued to stand at the window. "I'm sorry, Teal'c. I know you didn't want to find another Goa'uld ruling here any more than the rest of us did."
"Good intel we got from the Tok'ra, eh?" Jack rubbed his P-90 more furiously.
"Sir, I don't know how Yarrden could have missed this. Maybe we're the ones missing something."
"He missed it, Carter, same as we almost did."
"What now, Jack?" Daniel dismally felt the promise of this mission, of this technologically developed world, swirling down the drain. The letdown was severe, the result of a build-up that had been too great, amplified by a shuttle flight into a piece of Shangri-la. Where were the Goa'uld, and why were they allowing such a display of modern progress? Unless they were the ones reaping the benefits, in some unseen, all-encompassing sovereignty.
"We'll gather more intel tomorrow and then head back to the base. Hammond can take it from there." Jack sighed loudly, laying his weapon carefully at his feet, where it bizarrely gave the illusion of floating high above a flowing fountain of water. Everything in this room - including SG-1 - appeared as though it was hovering. "We've paid a small fortune for a night in this room; I don't intend for it to go to waste."
____
It lit the room.
Jack had innocently asked where the lights were, and Daniel had stuck his face into the hole in the wall, for the reception clerk had told them the hole was a power source. Nothing happened, so even more innocently Daniel spoke to the room in Goa'uld, using the simple word 'light', for Jack liked simple. Suddenly patches of gentle brightness had emanated from within the blue opaque wall. That was when Carter pointed out the golf-ball sized holes in the hole in the wall.
"A verbal command centre," she acknowledged in awe, figuring they'd all want to hear her conclusions.
"Tey'ac shenod," Teal'c said, and soft music filled the room.
The others stared, stupefied.
"Ask for beer," Jack told him.
"There is no word for beer in the Goa'uld language, O'Neill. Jaffa and Goa'uld do not partake in alcoholic beverages."
"Damn. Try something else then," Jack encourged him, then whispered to Daniel, "I suppose they have no words for 'The Simpsons' either."
"Water," Teal'c said in Goa'uld, but nothing happened. "Food." Nothing.
"Pie," Jack threw in, just in case. "Okay, so either it's the Light and Music box, or we need to set it to accept English. Why isn't the equipment on this planet bilingual?"
"Actually, Jack, the clerk did say it could be readjusted for other languages."
"How?"
"I don't know. Maybe we just have to tell it to switch to English."
"Pro'ke'shno ben'ha Tau'ri." Teal'c exclaimed. "Speak to it now, O'Neill."
"What did you say?"
"Language of the Tau'ri. "
"Ah." Jack eyed Teal'c dubiously, then said to the room, "Lights out." Nothing happened.
Daniel repeated the instruction in Goa'uld, and the blue wall dimmed and went dark, once again pitching the team into a world of stars and blackness. The play of subdued lights emanating from the pool below cast their faces into darkened shadows of pink and green.
Cool. Scenic. "Well, kids. I'm going to sleep. Seeing as there's nothing on TV."
They'd offered Sam the bed; the plastic-type white benches were long and wide enough to use with sleeping bags, and comfortable enough to lie on, with their form-fitting faux foam substance. Jack wasn't going to call for watch rotation in this hotel room, but he doubted he'd sleep much anyway. It was more intriguing to turn on his side and watch the dim spotlights in the pool below.
"Sir, here's a pillow." Sam tossed a pillow off the bed to the dark silhouette of Jack still sitting on his bench, and he caught it with an, "Ugh! What the hell is this?" sort of grunt.
It was thin, but soothingly soft and squishy, with hundreds of miniscule quilted gel-like bubbles covering its surface. It almost seemed to massage his fingertips as he tactilely inspected it. "Feels like a thick shoe insole," he said, tossing it back to Carter. "I'll stick with my jacket, thanks." Lying down, he tucked the edges of his sleeping bag around him and his jacket under his head, then adjusted his cap to nearly cover his eyes. Nearly; for he wasn't yet keen on closing out the wide open views around him.
Teal'c spoke to the room, and the music faded out.
Below, the gently rippling water was hypnotizing, as was the field of stars overhead, but Jack didn't sleep. He was too content pretending he was floating alone in space. Or kind of alone with Mary Steenburgen.
He'd watched Daniel looking at the stars too, for the longest while. Teal'c was sitting cross-legged facing the window. Carter had fallen asleep on that bed the moment her head had touched the sort-of pillow. Jack cringed; he'd rather have his jacket under his head any day.
"Carter. Carter!" Jack finally lifted Sam's head, raising her nearly to a sitting position, Daniel anxiously lending support on her other side. "Carter!" Her eyes flickered, then opened. "It's about time," Jack pursed his lips in a relieved frown, glancing briefly at Daniel's relaxing features.
"Sir?" Sam looked sleepily at her commanding officer, then at Daniel beside her. Teal'c was standing at the foot of the hour-glass shaped bed. Suddenly she felt very conspicuous and self-conscious, and she wrapped her arms around her knees. "What's going on?"
"You didn't want to wake up."
"Comfortable bed, Sam?" Daniel teased, but concern played in his eyes. Waking her had taken over a minute, and they'd been worried.
"Oh, wow. Sorry, guys." Now fully awake, Sam looked sheepish. "It feels like I just fell asleep. Very comfortable bed, Daniel."
"Well, have some breakfast and we'll head out. You sure you're okay?" O'Neill's complete focus remained on the major.
"I feel great, sir. I may not have had any dreams, but I think this bed does the seven-hour full-body massage. You ought to try it."
_____
They'd been walking for half the day already, and Jack was losing patience. This was getting them nowhere, and wandering aimlessly when the city was so full of useless wonders was nothing other than irritating. The fact that more often than not he couldn't understand the language factored into his frustration. They - or Daniel, mostly - had stopped to speak to several people, but conversation had been vague and clipped. No one had wanted to speak of the Goa'uld who may or may not be ruling them. Some had just scoffed, said they were no longer slaves, and continued on their way.
Teal'c remained on the lookout for Jaffa. If there were Goa'uld in charge here, there would be Jaffa, and if not, then there might be free Jaffa, which was even better. Still, Teal'c was becoming more and more convinced that unless this city was some wildly backwoods outskirts of an even more thriving metropolis of power, there were about as many Jaffa here as there were on Earth.
Yet they'd all caught more statuesque townsfolk bowing in seeming prayer, and subsequently - now that they knew to look for it - slipping orbs back into their pouches.
"I can go closer to the next group and try to hear what they're saying," Daniel offered.
"Eavesdrop?"
"That would be the proper term," Daniel nodded.
"Go for it."
So, about fifteen minutes later, Daniel slowly strolled by a couple huddled together kneeling on a lawn, bowing over what he assumed was the device.
The force seemed to come out of nowhere, even catching his teammates off-guard. Finding himself painfully dazed on the ground under a waving fist and furious countenance, Daniel was vaguely aware of teammates rushing towards him, pulling the other man off as the second blow hit him in the chin. Some part of his consciousness recognized Teal'c's threats to send body parts flying into the trees, and of being pulled to his feet and the nearby couple rushing off in shock.
"Are you injured, Daniel Jackson?"
"What?" Still dazed, Daniel tried to focus on Teal'c's moving lips. What the hell had just happened?
"You're bleeding."
"I think it's just a busted lip." Carter already held a cloth dampened with drinking water to Daniel's mouth - how'd she get that out so quickly? - when he began to focus in on what had just occurred. Presumably, those orb conversations must be as private as they'd suspected. Or had he just gotten in the way of another fight, having nothing to do with the communication at all? That couple didn't seem to have been involved; the attacker had come out of nowhere.
"I'm okay. I'm okay," Daniel nodded. "Thanks, Sam. I can do that." Taking the cloth from her hand, he wasn't prepared for the abrupt hostility.
"I was trying to help you, Daniel!"
"What?" Daniel's eyes went wide, features captured in a look of innocence. "I know, Sam. I didn't mean to -"
"What did you mean?" Sam's eyes blazed.
"Carter?!"
"What?" Sam lashed out at the colonel.
"What's gotten into you?"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"That." Jack's glare at his female teammate turned to confusion as he glanced towards Daniel and Teal'c, noting the incredulous looks on both their faces. "Damn it, Major, you're behaving like some of them. What's going on here?"
"Sam?" Daniel tried to intervene calmly, his voice soft and eyes sincere. "How are you feeling?"
"Screw you, Daniel."
"Carter! That's it, we're heading home. Back to the room, now."
"Why? Because I swore? Like you never do?"
"Carter, that's insubordination."
"No, sir, this is."
None of the men saw it coming. None of them were prepared for the slap that whipped across the colonel's face.
Like a world without sound, silence sucked them into a void.
For some moments, no one moved. No one seemed to take a breath. The tension hung in the air like wet mist.
Then Jack turned away, and took a single step forward. Without looking back he calmly said, "To the hotel. That's an order." And he continued walking.
Teal'c turned his back on Daniel and Sam, and followed in O'Neill's path.
Daniel waited one more moment, then nervously motioned for Sam to precede him. Without argument or fuss, she did; troubled, he followed behind, keeping his sixth sense unleashed in anticipation of more discord.
As individual units, each encased in a private, solitary cavity, the team reached the room without another word spoken.
_____
The guys packed up the bags, which didn't take very long. Sam lay on the bed, her scarred thoughts starting to clear. She recalled the outburst, recalled swearing at her friend, Daniel. Her good friend Daniel, someone she respected and cared about. She remembered slapping the colonel, and her spirit fell to the depths of that pool beneath their room, filled not with water but with remorse and shame. Slowly she sat up, overwhelming disbelief and regret painted on her face. The knowledge that she'd be court-martialled didn't yet factor into the reasons for her internal horror and self-loathing. Colonel O'Neill was not just her superior officer; he was a leader and friend whom she greatly admired, respected, and trusted with her life, and she would give her own for him in a heartbeat. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Colonel. Daniel. I don't know what to say." She paused, pain in her eyes. "I can't even say what came over me. I just don't know." A sudden surge of anger and annoyance just didn't cut it as an excuse. She knew better; she was always more in control than that.
The colonel didn't look up from his task. He had maybe a couple of hours at most to decide whether or not to report the incident, a report which would have grave consequences for Carter, for all of them. But worse than that, he had to decide whether or not to actually leave this planet so soon. If they returned so much earlier than scheduled, he'd doubtlessly have to explain why. He'd have no choice but to file a report. Besides that, though, he trusted his teammates and believed in the major; she'd never speak to either him or Daniel that way without something uncontrollable having influenced her. It wasn't just his cheek that stung from her slap.
"You've been affected by something out there, Carter." Unfortunately he had no idea what that could be or what taking her home right now might do. He had no idea if they could find out what was affecting her if they just turned tail and marched back to Earth. Yet, her mood seemed to have mellowed, worn off; hopefully he was worrying for nothing.
"Something in the air? The flowers? A Goa'uld…experiment?" Daniel suggested quietly, unhappily, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Sam. That might explain why the Goa'uld had allowed the city to develop as it had; maybe it was even their doing? It would also explain all the aggression they'd seen in the streets; if there was any way to help these people, he knew his team was already involved.
"So do we take our chances and leave now, without finding out what Carter was affected by, or do we stay to investigate and hope it doesn't get worse?" Jack lowered himself to a bench, the mindless task of stuffing packs and sleeping bags already done. They had no money left for extra nights here after this one, but they had their sleeping bags and would hopefully not be breaking any laws by camping in a public garden. Were the gardens, however, harboring an unknown danger?
"It's gone, sir. No more anger."
"So it is something outside. The flowers. Something."
"I felt fine out there, Jack."
"You take antihistamines."
"You felt fine out there… didn't you?"
Glumly Jack nodded. "I think so." He couldn't be sure whether he'd rather be affected, or not. If it wasn't something as simple as the flowers, they'd have a lot more ground to cover. Maybe it only affected women. No, local men had been involved in those brawls.
"Perhaps we need to ask more questions," Teal'c suggested.
"Or just the right ones," Daniel added.
"Half the time I can't speak the language; Carter's not going back outside, and you two aren't going off alone. I say we pay for one last night, then try to anonymously contact the Goa'uld in the morning with that comm ball."
"What?"
"Sir?"
Jack scowled. "Anyone have any better ideas?"
"We can go home now." Daniel didn't necessarily want to choose that option, but it was an option, and they had to consider all possible pros and cons of staying or leaving. His own choice, though, would be to find out what Goa'uld was experimenting on these people and put an end to it.
"And what if whatever happened to Carter happens back on Earth?"
"Then we come back."
"If Hammond lets us."
"I do not wish to leave without discovering who rules this place." Teal'c was well aware that his desires might sway O'Neill's decision. They had no reason to believe that Major Carter was in grave danger; to abort the mission now might be ill-advised.
"Staying gets my vote. I'd rather not have to explain why we're back so early." Jack looked at Sam, who was avoiding eye contact. "I'm not putting you on report." As Sam brought her eyes to meet his, the gratitude he saw in them was well worth the decision.
"Thank you, sir."
"Look, the day's wearing thin, and we have to use that flying thing in daylight anyway. So in the morning we either leave - and our reason will be lack of funds - or try communicating with whoever rules this planet, and then hightail it out of here if the Goa'uld at the other end recognizes us. We'll throw everything into the shuttle before we try calling." Jack looked straight at Daniel. "Think you're up to it? I don't want Teal'c showing his face to any snakehead."
Daniel nodded slowly. "I hope so."
_____
"Daniel." Sam sidled up to her friend as he looked at the stars in the darkening sky. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they gazed out at the panoramic view. "It's nice, isn't it."
"Yes, it is. You know, I don't think there are any moons here though."
Together they watched the sky. "You take the bed tonight, Daniel."
"No, Sam. I was fine on the bench. Really. It's comfortable."
"I've had my turn. Please. I owe you."
"You don't owe me, Sam. And anyway, you slapped Jack. Let him have it." Daniel bit his lip when he felt her cringe beside him. Out loud, the words sounded accusing. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean it like that."
"I already offered. You know he won't." Her smile was brief, timid. She'd known the colonel would refuse, and she could then make the offer to Daniel. Two birds with one stone.
"Well, I'm sleeping on the bench, one way or another. If you don't want to use the bed, it'll just go to waste."
With only another second's thought, Sam patted his arm, then left him looking at the stars. At least she'd tried. She felt only a slight guilt at being the one to get a good night's rest.
Daniel stood a bit longer at the window, not that this whole room wasn't a window. He was walking in space - or so it seemed - with a solid nothing below his feet, the water of the pool softly glistening below, the stars stretching beyond the ceiling far out into the galaxy. He ought to be afraid, being so high in such openness, shouldn't he?
Finally he headed for his bench, and lay down facing upwards at the canopy of stars. He could connect the dots all night and still not be done by morning.
CHAPTER 6
This was the moment they'd all been waiting for. Or dreading, depending on who was thinking about it. Teal'c was eager to add another Goa'uld to his death wish list. O'Neill was cursing internally, gearing up for a verbal dual with Teal'c as to why they would not stay here one minute longer than necessary. As great a place as this seemed, he more than sensed a darker side, something not quite right. Apart from fights breaking out in the open, there was that not-so-little matter of Major Carter slapping him, an officer he would otherwise be quick to commend for outstanding conduct and performance in the field. Then, topping that list was lack of money for a hotel room.
Daniel was just sitting on the bench, staring at the ball nervously. Carter had removed herself from the proximity of the module which she'd been trying to investigate since she'd awoken that morning; this, she was eager to see, hopeful for it to give them some answers. She plunked herself down on the bench beside Daniel.
"Ready?" Jack anxiously stood nearby, hoping Carter had figured out how to start the shuttle, just in case they needed a speedy escape. He eyed her agitated mood, her impatient foot tapping up and down, and didn't want to invite another tantrum. Something told him she wasn't fully recovered, and she'd been indoors since yesterday.
"As I'll ever be, I guess. But I'm not sure which of these numbers to press." The simple Goa'uld digits around the base were basically just numbers one to ten. "We're sure this isn't a shock grenade, right?" Nervously, Daniel looked up, considering the possibility he might just knock everyone out and blind them.
"Individuals on the street were indeed using them, Daniel Jackson."
"And they were being sold from stands out in the open." Jack shrugged. "Go for it."
Daniel was fingering the purple metallic crescent that he'd also found in the purple bag. The piece of probably-not-jewellery had a dozen tiny pinpricks on its surface, he could see now as he looked more closely. "This came with it?"
Jack shrugged again, a preferred habit of late, peering at the object as Daniel held it up. "Isn't that what the people have on their faces?"
"Yes. Maybe it's necessary for two-way audio or visual communication."
"Or Goa'uld mind control. And you're not going to put it on. If the Goa'uld can't see you, that makes me happy."
"Thank you. I was hoping you'd say that." Daniel smiled serenely at Jack, then looked to his other teammates. Teal'c was standing in the center of the room, patiently anticipating whatever was to come. Sam's foot had gotten faster in its impatient tapping. "Here goes."
They waited as Daniel didn't move.
"Here goes when?" Jack asked smugly.
"Just, um, figuring out what I'm going to say."
"The individuals utilizing the globes did not appear to be speaking at all, Daniel Jackson."
Sam had had enough of this beating around the bush. For God's sake, Daniel was delaying while they weren't getting any younger. "No, they were probably just listening to some oratorical speech of self-aggrandizing bullshit by a parasite who thinks of himself as master of the universe. Get on with it, Daniel."
Jack cast her a toxic glare. There was no reason to be unprepared, and Daniel didn't deserve that. "Carter," his voice warned.
Daniel pressed the symbol for number one.
Nothing happened.
"Teal'c?" Daniel frowned. "Any ideas?"
"None, Daniel Jackson. There is most likely a pre-formatted sequence in which to press the numbers."
"To connect to the right frequency," Sam agreed. "Maybe it depends on one's location within the city."
"Try again, Daniel."
Daniel tried each number individually, and then a combination of two. At random, he picked three numbers. Soon, all four members of SG-1 were trying their favorite lotto picks, but it was Jack who threw in the towel.
"Wasting time here. Let's go down to the lobby and ask the clerk."
"You sure you want to do that?"
"Hey, we're playing roulette here anyway. What could be worse?"
_____
Daniel was the lucky one to be designated for the job, but Jack was right beside him watching his back. He didn't want Teal'c, with that emblem on his forehead, to be too close to the viewfinder. Jack's major worry, at this point, was no shuttle close enough to jump into for a quick getaway.
Daniel approached the desk clerk, seated inside that open low glass booth, and gingerly laid the ball on its flat counter surface. "Hi," he greeted the man with a smile. "Can you tell me how this works?"
With a stupefied jolt, the man's mouth dropped open, then he grinned. "Just press the numbers," he pointed towards the base.
"Which ones?" Daniel asked cautiously, hoping not to sound as dense as he felt.
"What numbers do you want?" The man asked, fingering the ball and waiting. These newcomers couldn't read Goa'uld digits?
"Uh," Daniel frowned, leaning closer. "I thought you could tell me."
The man's expression grew even more baffled. "To whom do you wish to speak?"
At Daniel's blank stare, realization began to dawn on the hotel clerk. "You don't use these where you come from, do you?"
Daniel shook his head. "No."
The laugh was hearty, and a bit embarrassing. Daniel tossed a glance at his teammates sitting on nearby benches, but they said nothing. He was almost glad for Jack's supportive presence, as long as his team leader didn't say something even more daft than Daniel presumed he just had done.
"You can communicate with another person who has one of these chol'rok'tals. But you have to know that person's number."
"Cell phone?" Daniel heard from beside him. "The thing's a damn cell phone?"
"Press 2-4-4-3." The man advised, and Daniel did so.
Another ball, on the shelf behind the man - this one deep blue - cleared from within, and as the clerk held it up and peered downward, half of Daniel's face appeared inside the sphere. In SG-1's globe, the gray interior now displayed the face of the hotel clerk. The man was speaking, but SG-1 could only hear him from inside his booth.
"To hear my words, you must put one of these on your face," the man pointed to the metallic moon between his eyebrows. "Bend low so I can fully see you, and speak into this small hole beside the row of numbers."
Daniel felt Jack's hand clamp onto his shoulder, and Jack's low voice said, "Maybourne used one of those. Bigger, had audio." He didn't have to bend over it, either. Upgraded model, apparently.
"Thanks," Daniel smiled at the man. "We have devices that work like this. They don't look like this though. Semiran?" His eyes flicked to the embroidered name tag on the man's pale yellow shirt.
"Yes," Semiran nodded, looking quickly and noting that Daniel had no such name tag.
"Daniel," Daniel said. "Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, and Teal'c, the big guy over there."
"He uses these chol'rok'tals, does he not?" Semiran pointed to his own forehead, and that was when Daniel realized the people here thought Teal'c's tattoo was probably just a large, fancier version of their audio connections. These people had no recollection of what Jaffa even looked like. He twisted around to better see Jack, dumbfounded and speechless.
"So, Goa'uld-free after all," Jack muttered.
"The people in the park were bending over in order to speak into one of these and to be seen more clearly," Daniel whispered back.
"We're here to pay for another night," Jack turned to Semiran, making the split second decision. No Goa'uld, so their mission was just beginning. After all, how could the Pentagon object to $900 if they hadn't yet found out why there were no Goa'uld here? Not to mention Carter had a huge crystal laser base station to study.
"Further accommodation is free."
"It is?" Jack's eyebrows rose. "That's… nice. Why?" Did that nine hundred dollars pay for unlimited stay, and not just for a single night?
The clerk looked up curiously. "Are you not here to decipher the Stones?"
"Stones?" Jack parroted.
"The Ostracons."
"Daniel?" Jack cocked his head towards his friend.
"In Ancient Greece ostracons were potsherds with inscriptions on them, often intended to be used in a way comparable to our voting ballots," Daniel explained quietly. "Although on Earth they've revealed everything from ancient shopping lists to detailed and complicated hieroglyphic inscriptions." To Semiran, he asked, "Please tell us about the ostracons."
"Now I am the one who is misunderstanding. The friend who advised us of your visit, his name was Yarrden, said a Daniel Jackson would be coming to study the Stones. Is that not you?"
The sardonic tilt of Jack's lips was an outward indication of the aggravation scouring his insides. "Oh he did, did he?" Payback time, kids. He wished Hammond had taken him up on that bet after all. Told you so, sir. Would the Tok'ra ever send SG-1 out on a benign, straight-forward mission?
"For anyone who tries to decipher the rest of the Stones, accommodation is paid for by the state."
Ah. Right. Jack sighed, knowing duplicity when it hit him over the head. They'd just been surreptitiously snared by the sneaky snakes again. "Tell us more."
Daniel threw Jack a look, knowing he was the one being volunteered to work for room and board. But then he sighed too; that was his job, after all. If he could earn them free accommodation, they could stay that much longer.
"The Stones have been known for centuries, found in an area long regarded as a place of worship, yet no one can remember why they are there. Until this year, no one has ever been able to translate the symbols on them. People have come from many towns and far off places, but all have left in disappointment. The engravings on the Ostracons are unusual, never seen anywhere else on Luok'shuo. But one man, Oludaran, who arrived here during this past wet season, appears able to decipher the script. He only read one segment, however, before he discontinued his work."
"Why did he stop?" Daniel wondered. And, more importantly, if the script wasn't Goa'uld and it wasn't English, what writing could it possibly be? His curiosity peaked.
Semiran was pulling out paper-thin crystalline plate-sized tablets and spreading them out on his countertop, each with images of a large, smiling man. Goa'uld writings ran along the unadorned edges, and as Daniel leaned closer he could make out the equivalent of headlines and news stories burned into the substance.
"He was forced to quit due to the words themselves, which advise the interpreter that the Ostracons must be read and carried out in a series of consecutive steps. He refuses to continue until the advice on the first Stone has been fully followed. Presently, as counseled on the first Ostracon itself, he is supervising the construction of a stromachite chalet in the mountains of Verenko where he will reside. He claims that the rest of the words will be understood only when this new building opens to the energy from the sun and skies."
"What exactly did the words say?" Daniel was skimming the news reports; so far, he'd found mostly tabloid ramblings of a new sage or prophet come to work wonders on the long-lost meaning of the great Ostracon writings.
"Only that the ancestors of our people left a great legacy, powered from the heavens; that the way to everlasting happiness will be told to the one who masters the stars. For that, the prophet must build a great stromachite palace high in the mountains, surrounded by lakes and fountains."
"Stromachite?"
The clerk tilted his head, then motioned to the walls arund him. "This." Then he pointed down at the crystalline tablets. "This."
"Uh, Daniel?"
"Jack? I'm thinking those symbols might be Ancient."
"And the man - what's his name? All… allude or - ?"
"Oludaran," the clerk corrected.
"Right." Ollie.
"Well, if he can read the symbols - " Daniel continued.
Jack cut him off. "Then we ought to find out why. Okay, where can we find this man?"
"His number is 938839, but Verenko is not on the path of our public shuttles; access is private. You can reach the Stones, however," the clerk suggested enthusiastically, his eyes twinkling merrily. "If you can interpret the rest of the message, we would not have to wait for Oludaran's palace to be completed."
Right… and where did that leave that commandment regarding a series of consecutive steps that had to be followed to the letter? "So, not too religious yourselves, are you." Jack didn't expect an answer to that.
Daniel pursed his lips. "Where can we find these stones?"
CHAPTER 7
Relinquishing control of a flying vehicle never came easily to Jack, although he had learned to capitulate to Jacob's - and Selmac's - superior maneuvering of Tok'ra peltacs. Still, he much preferred to be in charge when the ground was so far below his feet, but there didn't seem to be any controls in this shuttle in case of an emergency. He didn't even know if he ought to trust whoever it was who was directing this thing. Jack cocked his head to see the streets below; as they receded into the background, gardens and fountains gave way to meadows, then woods, as the craft flew higher. Treetops were just below them; open the door and they could probably catch leaves blowing off in the wind. "Doesn't it bother anyone else that this thing is being controlled by someone else?"
Every now and then the shuttle gave a little shuddering bump, as the wind picked up.
"Yes." Daniel's fingers were clasping his seat again. It was one thing to be in a Tok'ra cargo ship with enclosed walls around him. It was another to be encased in glass and uncertain as to where even the motor was, never mind the controls. His fear of heights didn't usually act up inside air transport, but this was… this was… incomparable. He could see the entire world below him.
Even Carter seemed edgy; but more than that, she seemed tired. Having woken that morning from another wonderful, deep sleep, she couldn't understand why she longed to go back home - or to the hotel - and lie down. She just felt drained. Watching Daniel translate the writing on some stones wasn't something that would keep her awake, either. Maybe she'd be able to study this module once they landed. Although, what she could do without taking it apart was uncertain, and short of smashing it, that seemed an unlikely endeavor anyway.
They were flying over water now, a huge body of water, no end in sight, and Daniel's hands gripped the seat even tighter as its rubbery edges did their best to melt around his fingers. The shuttle seemed to be slowing down, and his heart was picking up speed. "Uh, are we supposed to be doing that?" Forced water landings had never sparked his sense of adventure. Please, don't let us run out of power.
"You tell me." Jack looked behind him to see Daniel's pale face. Never mind. "Okay, Carter. You tell me."
"Beats me, sir."
This transport was definitely slowing, and SG-1 could see there was still no land in sight. As it began to lose altitude as well, all Daniel could do was take deep breaths and close his eyes.
He felt Carter's hand touch his own.
"Daniel." Two voices spoke in unison, and Daniel pried open his eyes, but not his hands. His entire body felt that odd combination of tension and weakness. In two words, he felt strangely like that seat rubber.
Brain focusing, he could only gasp. "Geez. The stones?"
"They call those stones?" Jack gaped. "I was thinking, little… oy."
So had Daniel. Runes, or something. Bags of them, in a museum. Not this. Talk about understatement. There were the Stones, the Ostracons, ten upon counting, forming one large standing circle. Daniel could only liken it to a single layered Stonehenge… circa 3001. These Stones seemed to be made of tinted quartz crystal, each a different pastel tinge glinting near-white in the sunlight, carved and smoothed into upright three-sided pyramids. Tetrahedrons, their apexes pointing towards the sky.
Each one protruded at least forty-five feet out of the gently rippling water.
Daniel peered out the windows as the craft lost more altitude, his taut hands forgotten as they unlocked and came to rest on the glass itself. Anticipation replaced anxiety, gearing up inside; whatever writing was on these crystal ostracons, the people who had carved into them were definitely an unknown, or at least unanticipated, race. Ancients were not out of the question. This was exciting.
Even Carter seemed to have perked up.
The craft lowered until it was only three dozen feet above the water, then leveled off, entering the inner circle, for the writing appeared to be only on the inner face of each structure. There it stopped, the pale greenish pyramid facing Daniel's side of the module. The writing was perfectly visible; beginning at this height, the etched message continued straight into the water, words large enough to be seen from this distance of six feet away.
"Oh."
Carter took her eyes off the pyramid-shaped, four-storey pointed blocks of crystal around her, to look at Daniel. In the front seats, Jack and Teal'c both turned around. "What?"
"This writing isn't Ancient. It's a form of early cursive hieroglyphics. Hieratic."
"Egyptian?"
"Ancient Egyptian, Jack."
"What the hell were the Egyptians doing carving pyramids in the middle of a lake on Luok'shuo?"
"Maybe not Egyptians per se, just people speaking the language, and more likely carving them on land, but for some reason they propped them up out here."
"Why?"
"How about I read some of this and see if I can find out?"
Sam bit back her own sarcasm; it would have been littered with colorful words. She was feeling irritable already and the ordeal hadn't yet begun.
_____
She was bored. Sam couldn't study the craft, with everyone inside it and nowhere to move. And they couldn't land, with nothing but water beneath them. Could this thing hover indefinitely?
Jack was wondering the same thing. "What if whoever is controlling the remote forgets we're here and shuts this thing off?" They'd been here two hours already.
"Do glass bottles not float, O'Neill?"
Jack stared at Teal'c. Right. So they'd bob up and down until someone realized they hadn't paid the room fee. Oh wait, no room fee. "How's it going, Daniel? Not to rush you or anything, but I have to pee."
Daniel had been frowning for the past hour. Nowhere could he find the references Oludaran had mentioned, and his confusion had been growing in increments. "Is this supposed to be the pyramid face Oludaran was reading?"
"I'd know that, why?"
"We have to find out. There's no way I can read them all today." Especially with the sun already low on the horizon. "Maybe they stopped us at the wrong one. Or the second one." There was no next step, though; what was supposed to happen after the construction of a crystal, or stromachite, mansion on a mountaintop?
"We have to get back soon anyway, Daniel. I don't want to drop into the water when the sun sets. That Semir guy said this thing won't fly at night."
"Cinderella's chariot." Daniel murmured.
"No. We don't have until midnight, Daniel."
"Thank God," Sam muttered under her breath. Her foot was tapping again, but all she noticed was a disagreeable irritation and jumpiness deep within, and nerves that kept tingling. A headache was playing around behind her eyes.
"Dial 2-4-4-3," Daniel directed.
"What?"
"2-4-4-3, the hotel. Ask whoever's at the desk which stone Oly… Oludaran deciphered."
Jack took the ball from its pouch at his feet. "Uh, Daniel - " Goa'uld numbers.
Teal'c took it from Jack's hands and pressed the four numbers. The ball cleared, displaying a different clerk's face. "We are in need of information," he spoke loudly into the tiny hole in the base, his head bowed. To anyone who hadn't known better, it might have looked as though he was praying.
"At the Stones," Daniel added, just in case. He really, really hoped Semiran had filled the new guy in on what was happening.
"Yes?" The lips mouthed, but no sound was heard.
"The clip," Daniel said quickly, reaching out to Jack. "Let me have the receiver."
"No. You're not putting that thing on." Who knew how that thing might connect to a human brain, or if it could even be disconnected once in place. Why couldn't they just use earphones?
"We need to talk to him."
"He can hear you. Read his lips."
Teal'c passed the ball to Daniel. With a scathing look at Jack, Daniel asked, "Which was the Stone Oludaran translated?"
He squinted, trying to decipher the man's words, frustration reminding him he was a linguist, not a magician. "I can't understand. Is it the one we're stopped at now? Do you even know where we stopped?"
Daniel understood the word "yes".
"Yes. Yes, you know where we stopped?"
The man mouthed yes.
"Yes, we're at the first Stone? The green one?"
Again, yes, and then a longer discourse of which Daniel caught nothing. "Jack, I have to use the receiv - "
"No." 'No' to physically messing with alien equipment; it reminded Jack too much of the links on P3X-289 and Tok'ra memory devices. What fun those had been. "Talk to him at the hotel. Sun, night, darkness…"
"Um, we'll need to head back now," Daniel told the face in the chol'rok'tal.
The words spoken, the craft started moving, skirting slowly around to the outside of the pyramid and the circle itself, facing back in the direction from which they'd come. It lifted until the top of the green pyramid sparkled underneath the shuttle's floor; then with a smooth burst of speed, it took off back across the lake.
_____
Flying into fire. That was how it seemed, by the time the city came into view. Sunset layered the sky with shades of red, orange, yellow; from their vantage point high in the air, above buildings that not only didn't collapse their view but - along with the water of fountains and pools - reflected the colors off their crystal façades, the entire city looked alight with a kaleidoscope of flame.
This time Daniel wasn't hanging onto the edge of the seat; he sat transfixed with his gaze glued to the transforming sky. Beautiful, breathtaking, and daunting, all at once. The shuttle could remain engaged forever, out of control, and fly into a never-ending abyss of atmospheric phenomena, engulfing the little shuttle and its occupants in a Twilight Zone field of permanent inferno.
Daniel didn't even notice when the shuttle headed directly towards the tower.
His trance was broken only when the shuttle stopped beneath their protruding room, turned around, and lifted up through the hatch. This time when the doors opened, Jack was out in an instant. Solemnly, mesmerized by the light show which was still displayed in a three-quarters panoramic vista around their transparent chamber but tempered by the decrease in height, the others followed. Sam headed straight for the bed and lay down.
Teal'c aimed directly for one of the areas of window.
Faced once again with reality, Daniel's thoughts returned to the issue that had begun to eat at his conscience while reading the script on the first Stone. Ignoring the colors fading into twilight around him, he distractedly stared at the far wall, knowing he'd turn the lights on if it wouldn't obscure Teal'c's view and bother Sam's sleep. It didn't matter; thinking in the dark might prove to be more effective anyway.
"Daniel?" Jack couldn't help but notice Daniel's downcast carriage, and made an assumption. "I'll go down with you to talk to the clerk."
Daniel turned his head a degree, and realized Jack was talking to him. "Oh."
The colonel frowned. "Didn't you want to talk to him?"
That wasn't, however, Daniel's main distraction. Daniel had no idea what to tell the clerk. How to tell anyone who might give a damn. "What do I do?" Daniel asked, starting to pace. "Oludaran's been lying to them."
"What are you talking about?"
"The stone I read was the one Oludaran had told them he'd read as well. I had to start with the first, just as he had, although whether that was the true first or just the one he chose to start with, I have no idea. But it said nothing of crystal palaces on a mountain opening up energy from the sun, or of reading only one Ostracon at a time, or following a series of consecutive steps. There was nothing about a legacy from the stars, or a prophet. There were a few references to Duat, one of the Egyptian names for a land of the dead that lies below the earth, and something about vast wealth that lay below our feet. Over at the lake."
"For what reason would he lie?" Teal'c turned from the window, not so oblivious after all.
Jack, however, seemed to be clueing in to the same wavelength as Daniel. "Oh," Jack scowled, "maybe to get himself a nice little palatial chalet, with a view? He can take all the time he wants, making up what he'd like those stones to say. Wealth, servants, ski resort in the Alps, rights to this little kingdom." He looked at Daniel a bit hesitantly. "Right?"
"Right. So what do I do?"
"They want people who can translate the stones, Daniel. You can translate the stones."
"Even though Ollie's their newest prophet? Or sage? "
"False sage. And we're so good at disclosing false things."
"Jack?" Daniel nodded towards the module.
They'd left the chol'rok'tal cell phone on the seat of the shuttle, but the transparent glass did nothing to conceal the globe now coming to life with part of the new reception clerk's face.
"We can't understand him from here anyway. Daniel, feel like an elevator ride?"
_____
"Yes, I can read the words," Daniel told the manager, Ho Paridu, and Semiran who stood behind him in the booth.
Jack wished for once the digital camera was in his possession right at that moment, for he'd never seen such an expression as on either man's face. Just think, two interpreters of the stones in one year. What were the odds, hmmm?
"You must go to the second Stone tomorrow," the hotel manager, that new face in the globe, said excitedly. Then he hesitated, his expression becoming darker. "The city cannot be expected to build a second palace for you."
Daniel's jaw dropped. "I don't want one," he stated emphatically, to Ho Paridu's obvious relief. He took a breath. "Look, sir… Ho; the Stone I read - and you did say the green one was the one Oludaran read as well - does not say that someone needs a palace on a mountain to get energy from the heavens in order to open up the next phase of translation or prophecy. It doesn't say anything like that."
No camera wanted this time, as Jack watched the manager's face turn quickly from enthusiasm to anger, while Semiran's just went pale. Good ol' Ollie's about to find himself out on the streets. Jack ignored the fact that he hadn't seen any homeless people in the city, but maybe they were somewhere. They'd have to find out about social services in this place, before they left.
"You lie."
"No. No, I don't. Oludaran seems to be lying, to get things from your people. He's taking advantage of you."
"What do you think the Stone says?" Semiran's voice was accusing, and Jack drew in closer to Daniel's side, ready to aid his friend in an altercation. Not that he could intellectually back him up, but… he'd still back him up.
"It talks about something of great worth or value below the water. Much of the text itself is underwater, so I could only read a bit."
Ho Paridu studied Daniel's face, his own a blank mask. Finally, he made his decision. "I must notify the authorities. We must decide which one of you is telling the truth."
Neither Jack nor Daniel noticed the little red lights flashing across the bottom of another small round globe, high on a shelf.
CHAPTER 8
Jack was troubled. How they would decide who was telling the truth when it was Daniel's word against Ollie's, he didn't know and wasn't so sure he wanted to find out. But Daniel was right; the people had a right to know what their archeological site was all about, and they had to protect themselves from a man who might just get a bit too carried away and declare himself King. Not that he wanted to get involved in this world's politics, but had that ever stopped them before? Since it was Daniel who had tossed a bend into their already slightly twisted belief system, he was the one who had to follow this up and see where it led. His team would be behind him all the way.
Jack had shoved their few used, empty packages down the long tubes in the lavatory as he'd been directed by Semiran, tubes with water continually flowing, then watched as they were ground up into mush and swallowed by the system. The activity had kept his eyes occupied while his mind was free to wander. Now, however, unless he wanted to read Daniel's dictionaries, he was at a loss for what to do next. Shouldn't there be a Bible in a drawer, somewhere? Shouldn't there be a drawer?
The others were already on their way to bed; he'd follow in a moment. Best to try for some sleep and wake up bright and early. Jack silently watched his teammates. Daniel was bothered and probably wouldn't be able to sleep much. Carter was trying to soothe him with agreeable, comforting words. She didn't seem so exhausted now, and that was good; he'd been getting too worried about her. This time, she'd convinced Daniel to accept the bed. That was good too; he was the one going to be doing most of the work tomorrow, and maybe it could actually ease him to sleep. Teal'c had claimed another of the benches, and was sitting on it cross-legged.
Jack settled himself onto his own bench and pulled the sleeping bag up around his neck. The stars shone above, and he watched them until they began to move and coalesce into crystal bits of a spaceship, flying towards a pink glass stargate suspended over an ocean jumping with fish.
_____
She couldn't sleep.
The stars overhead were jewels in dark lace. But the lace was moving, shifting the beads until her eyes hurt, making her crazy. A thousand dots of light, pulsating, pulling her in, pushing her away. She couldn't stand to look at them.
Sam lifted herself from the bench, trusting her feet to find solid - well, nearly solid - matter above that dimly lit pool. Trusting them to keep her from falling well over a hundred feet down, from splashing into four feet of water and killing herself.
She knelt, feeling with hands and knees the give of resilient stromachite. Lying flat on her stomach on the transparent floor, Sam stared down into that pool below. Hovering, flying, suspended in space; try as she might, she couldn't drop into that sparkling water, couldn't touch its cool depths, or let its wetness sooth her tongue. The ripples were mesmerizing, shifting, pulsating, pulling her in, pushing her away. She blinked, shivering, and turned over. There were the stars overhead again, coming closer, growing larger, larger, larger, until the brightness made her eyes burn.
Sam rose slowly, then tiptoed soundlessly to the edge of the wall, edge of the window, and put her palms on the glass, heart momentarily jumping at that same slight elasticity that felt as though she might pop a hole through the bubble with too heavy a breath. Leaning her head forward, she could have been soaring, or held stationary in space by some force field, daring to let her fall the moment it shut down.
Time passed; minutes, seconds, an hour, each part of her brain competing for attention, thoughts spinning and jumbled, racing her heart, the fountain's reflected starlight pulsing pulsing pulsing as she waited for the glass to melt and the pool to suck her up into -
"Carter?"
The whisper sent chills down her spine; she spun around, startled, her heart thumping. It took her a moment to respond. "Sorry if I woke you, sir."
"I wasn't asleep." Any longer. Jack squinted at her but all he could see was a vague silhouette. "Something wrong?"
"Not sleepy." However, beginning to get annoyed at having her space and tranquility encroached upon.
Jack slipped over to the glass beside her, as close to the window as she'd been, as close as he dared, for he didn't care for that flexibility any more than Daniel did, and gazed around at the vast darkness, punctuated with starlight and a few lights in distant buildings.
"I was here first, sir."
"What?" Jack perked his head up, startled, squinting to see her better.
"I was here first." Carter opened her mouth to say more, then closed it and moved to the other side of the wall, as distant from him as possible, palms against the glass.
For a moment Jack stared, then shuffled back to his bench, troubled. Sleep didn't come again; he continued to watch Carter, for as long as she stood there.
_____
"Daniel. Daniel!" Jack finally lifted his friend by the shoulders, nearly to a sitting position, as Teal'c sat down to support Daniel from behind, keeping him from falling backward. This was getting old, and now even more worrisome. Carter, though, had been waking up normally since that first morning.
Daniel's eyelids fluttered, then squinted up at him.
"It's about time." Déjà entendu.
"Jack?" Daniel looked sleepily at the others surrounding him, their faces touched with distress. "What's going on?"
"You didn't want to wake up."
"Comfortable bed, Daniel?" Sam joked half-heartedly, her tone caustic. Part of her wished she'd had such a good night's sleep. Jack studied her expression as it flitted from concern into annoyance. Maybe he'd been imagining it; there was no way Carter would be irritated with Daniel's not waking up. But there was no denying her impatience now, as she rose from her one-kneed leaning position on the bed and turned her back on them all, striding over to the shuttle. Crouching on the floor, she slid underneath its belly.
Her mood so far this morning had been bordering on irritable and even rude, although she seemed to be holding back. When frustration rose, she'd responded by turning her back to the others.
"Geez." Now fully awake, Daniel looked sheepish. "It feels like I just fell asleep. Very comfortable bed. Think there could be some sort of sedative in the pillow?" he joked.
"I'd say that's a yes," Jack agreed quite a bit more seriously, noting the surprised look on Daniel's face. "There could be." The thought had occurred to him, oh, at least ninety seconds ago. "I knew those gel bubbles creeped me out for a reason."
"Part of the nine hundred dollar massage treatment, Jack. I'm awake now, nothing to worry about." Daniel rose from the 'very comfortable' bed. "I doubt most people who stay here and pay the equivalent of nine hundred dollars a night sleep on the benches out of choice." He tossed the pillow aside, knowing he wouldn't be using that again; having his team wake him up once had been embarrassment enough. "Maybe there's a way to set it to a timer, or something." Pillow alarm clock. Geez, how did people wake up for work if they slept on those? Perhaps they were used just for weekends, or hotel guests.
"Whatever. Have some breakfast. I wanted an early start so we could head back to base tomorrow." Free accommodation aside, Carter's mood was troubling him.
"Jack, I don't know if I can read all those Ostracons in a day."
"Do what you can. For all we know, they might all say the same thing."
_____
Carter opted to stay behind, hoping to study the workings of the crystal laser remote base located in the lobby. Silently Jack envied her; a full day sitting in that confined shuttle, watching Daniel translate, was equivalent to the time he'd been conned into babysitting his cousin's goldfish when he was five. He suspected Carter didn't have the patience to sit there with them, knowing her time was being wasted and itching to investigate the shuttle system. Uncertain as to whether he ought to allow her to stay on her own, he reasoned that with a big toy to study, she wouldn't even realize the passage of time. She'd be fine. Anyway, no reason for Teal'c to have the day off too; with Daniel involved in translations, Jack would need someone to talk to.
"Carter? If you need anything, use the hotel's chocolate device to contact us."
"Chol'rok'tal, O'Neill."
"Yeah, whatever."
"Yes sir." Was that tone his imagination, or was she impatient to get rid of them? Her thumbs were twiddling.
"And ease up on the coffee."
Settling himself into the shuttle, the other two already inside, Jack gave Carter one final look, uneasy that maybe he was making the wrong decision. However, if he couldn't trust the major in a hotel room, then he ought to just get them all home, right now. Jack wasn't entirely convinced that that wasn't the best thing to do, though, and that was the problem.
"Alright. How do we start this up?"
"Um, maybe call down to the lobby," Daniel suggested. "They have to set our route."
"They know where you're going." Sam grabbed the flat crystal card out of Jack's jacket pocket. "I'll be needing this to get back into the room," she reminded him, as she stuck her arm into the shuttle and pressed the card flat against the nearest window. Immediately the seat edges curled around her teammates' limbs as she stood back, watching the panel slide shut. The floor hatch opened smoothly and the shuttle began its descent, her teammates staring at the smug expression on her face. Wild guess but won't tell them, she thought, as she retreated towards the bed to have a short nap before beginning her investigative work down in the lobby.
_____
The water here didn't appear to be too deep, now that he looked more closely. Jack peered down into it; the sunlight was playing games with the breeze rippling shadows across the water, but Jack was sure he could see boulders, or other dark objects, maybe twenty feet down.
The shuttle aimed for and stopped at the second pyramid in the circle, and as Daniel read, his expression took on more and more of a grim, gloomy cast. Here, too, he found nothing describing a palace in the stars, or on a mountain, for anyone who could read the words and access the sun's energy. What he read was a history of the ruling powers, names he did not recognize, names that were not ancient Egyptian. Unknown Goa'ulds, perhaps, but that would be nothing but conjecture. The only mention of the sun's energy was in relation to the beauty of the Stones themselves.
"Food?" Jack held an energy bar up for Teal'c, who took it without a word, and Jack thrust another one under Daniel's nose. "Eat." Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he wished they'd searched out a grocery store; he could use some fresh fruit at the moment. Something more palatable for this onboard picnic than gooey pressed bars that didn't melt in one's mouth.
The third and fourth Stones shed no light on anything but historical sequences and a mysterious hint of something wonderful buried below. By the time they'd reached the fifth, Jack was visibly irritable and verbally abusive in his own sarcastic way; even Teal'c was showing signs of restlessness.
An energy bar was placed on Jack's lap by Teal'c. "Eat," was the Jaffa's command.
With a scandalous look, Jack asked, "How many of these do you have?"
"Several," Teal'c responded with a signature smirk.
"Why'd you take mine earlier?" Jack playfully scowled, with a false, accusatory look.
"I have learned it is impolite on your world to decline a gift."
"Oh, you didn't think…" Jack looked in confusion at the other man, still not knowing for sure when Teal'c was joking.
_____
By the sixth Stone, both men had lost their will to be there any longer.
"And you complained about fishing?" Jack glared at Teal'c. "Last one, Daniel, then we get them to turn this thing around." The day was growing late anyway; Jack knew he wouldn't have had the heart to end this jaunt any earlier, regardless of his discomfort and nearly unbearable boredom. If he'd brought Teal'c along for the company, that had paid off about as well as a dollar bill in Tiffany's. Still, he was preparing to raise a finger to Daniel's protest.
What Jack hadn't counted on was that even Daniel was getting bored and feeling the strain. Daniel's distraction had been camouflaged, but Jack could now see the other man was fighting exhaustion, his eyes red and brows drawn.
"I'm done. Let's go." The sky was still blue; fading, but a good hour or so of daylight left. By the time they got back, that would be changing.
"You alright?" It wasn't like Daniel to request they leave a project such as this any earlier than necessary.
Daniel nodded wearily, his eyes closing. "Let's just go."
Great. First Carter, now Daniel. Too late now, it occurred to Jack that he ought to have tried contacting the major at some point during the day; subconsciously, he'd assumed that if she'd needed them she would have called in herself. Distracting her from whatever she was doing wouldn't have improved that insipid mood of hers any, but now Jack realized it was more than likely his two teammates had both picked up a bug. As for himself, he felt fine, but Jack didn't want to count on that continuing. One more day here and Daniel ought to be finished reading those stones. Tomorrow night they'd go home, with absolutely nothing gained.
"Do we need the room key?" Carter had taken ownership of that.
"I believe the chol'rok'tal is to be used in the absence of the card," Teal'c stated confidently.
Taking one final glance at his indisputably withered archeologist, Jack nodded at Teal'c to make the call.
This was getting to be routine; contact the hotel, have them move the shuttle. As expected, the craft did an about-face through the circle of comparatively small crystalline pyramids - small compared to those of Earth, anyway - and sent itself on its way, one drained and two bored explorers inside.
_____
The shuttle did not stop at their room. This time, it flew to an upper level pod around the side of the building, halted under a double petal protrusion, and lifted up through the hatch.
"What's going on?" Daniel wondered as he followed Jack, then Teal'c, out the sliding panel of the vessel. He was too tired to go visiting… or be answering questions. He needed sleep, and wanted only to return to their hotel room. "Sam will be waiting for us in the other room."
"No, I won't." Sam was inside the room, smiling, welcoming them. "We've been upgraded."
Jack's eyes went wide, gazing around. "Care to explain?"
"Can't, sir. All I know is one of the clerks came to me while I was downstairs studying the base station, switched crystal keys with me, and brought me up here. I assume it's because there are four of us."
"What's in there?" They'd all noted the emptiness of this room; the same benches along the interior wall, a couple extra holes in the wall, and a glass floor that looked down into the same extensive pool from a different angle, but no bed. The other odd thing was a foot-high, four-foot square plinth tiled in the same burgundy color as used in the hallways, placed in the middle of the floor where the bed should have been. However, the glass wall in this room didn't end at the door; it swooped around into another opening, and through the glass they could see a connecting second chamber.
"Come see." They followed Sam through the extension. She certainly seemed more cheerful than she had that morning. Daniel, on the other hand, was lagging behind lethargically, his features drawn. Jack slowed down, waiting to walk beside him.
Through the curved passageway was another semi-circular glass room, and there, dead center, was a large four-leaf clover shaped platform, patterned rubbery material covering each of the leaves, four gelled pillows at each rounded end. It didn't take a second glance for them to realize what they were looking at.
"That's a bed?" Jack asked incredulously. "For the four of us?" Their feet would have plenty of room, facing inwards towards the center, and each of the nearly-round clover leaves was wide enough for a tall person to sleep comfortably in relative privacy. "Interesting." The bed itself was on a round burgundy-tiled foundation; as in the other room, it was the only section of floor that wasn't transparent. More benches rested along this room's opaque interior wall.
"Wait, there's more." Sam led the way back to the entry room, or maybe they ought to call it the shuttle garage, now that it was no longer the bedroom, her troupe of three faithfully following.
"Where's more?" Quite a huge open space for just a single-shuttle parking lot, but all Jack could see in here besides the module were three benches and a tiled platform.
Carter had put herself to use during her free hours, though, and had discovered how to program the system to accept English. What she now said was "Food."
The plinth rose from the floor, blossoming into a white and burgundy box-like structure, extending four feet high.
"Ask for heat," she instructed Daniel cheerfully.
"Teymar," he said, and waited.
"In English."
"Oh." It hadn't registered with him that Sam had spoken English to get this platform to rise. "Heat," he said obligingly, longing only for the bed in the other room. Nothing happened.
Sam took his hand, passing it slowly above the surface of the box. It was warm.
"A stove," Sam grinned.
"So you've been playing with fun toys all day. Cooked us supper?"
"Colonel, this technology is amazing. And no, I left that for you."
"How about the rest of the day, Major?" Carter's much improved mood had not slipped past Jack unnoticed.
"I had a look at the crystal laser centre downstairs, sir."
"Good. Ready to bring the knowledge home?"
"Uh, actually, sir, I can't figure it out without getting inside the mechanism itself, which is…"
"Probably against hotel regulations."
"Yes sir. Not to mention that the laser mapping center is likely in some government facility unassociated with the hotel itself. The folks downstairs couldn't tell me how it actually works."
Of course not. "So, your day was as productive as mine." Although likely a lot less cramped.
"I slept a lot, sir. For some reason I was extremely tired. I'm much better now though."
"Glad to hear it. Now that it's bedtime."
A warm MRE later, Daniel was flaked out on his covers on one quarter of the clover. He was already asleep.
"I guess squinting at ancient engravings from a plane window tires out the eyes," Jack stated to Teal'c, wanting to believe that's all it was. They'd find out in the morning.
"Indeed," Teal'c nodded his agreement, and went to sit cross-legged on one of the benches, his head bent slightly towards the pool twelve storeys under their room. Whether his eyes were open or closed, Jack couldn't tell.
Jack threw the gelled pillow off the bed and stuffed his jacket under his head, as he propped his feet up and shoved them under the draperies. He watched while Carter gracefully tucked herself into the third clover leaf, curled up, and drifted off to sleep. He continued to watch as the faint stars above his head became brighter in the darkening sky.
_____
Daniel was sitting up in bed as Jack opened his eyes, squinting at the morning light filtering in. The younger man was staring towards the window, his body rigid.
Jack shot upright, his bare feet hitting the floor instantly, as he realized what Daniel was gaping at; it didn't take long to look out a window. "What the hell?"
In Daniel's humor was a badly disguised tension. "Paparazzi? Police?"
Outside their window - all the windows of their two room suite - was what seemed to be a fleet of shuttles, clear shuttles with various numbers of people inside each, all staring in towards them, the modules forming a barrier of hovering glass cigars that bordered their twin protruding rooms. Two rows deep, in places even three, the crafts were motionless, hovering, waiting. It looked like a floating marina.
"What do they want?"
"How would I know, Jack?"
Teal'c soundlessly approached from behind, and Jack could sense Carter shifting, awakening on her own clover leaf. "I will use the facial receiver, O'Neill, and inform the management of this situation."
Jack had no argument this time. They had to know what was going on. "Yeah. I'll do it."
"I shall." Teal'c was already attaching the thing above his gold tattoo. Must be self-adhesive, a wifi connection or something. Jack caught himself staring.
"Oh-oh."
"Daniel?"
Daniel was rising, moving closer to the window.
"Daniel, don't."
"Look." He was nodding towards one of the shuttles.
"What?"
"Between those shuttles, across the pond and gardens, you see that huge sign? The one you thought was a scoreboard?"
Jack knew what Daniel was referring to, and shifted his position to have a look. What had looked like the dark surface of a scoreboard the other day, seen from a better angle in this new room, was now lit up with moving pictures… and those pictures were the faces of himself and Daniel, down in the lobby of their hotel. "Crap," the whisper was barely audible, a constrained reaction to the morning's incoming tide.
_____
They could hear Teal'c's one-sided dialogue. It began with the simple question of why there were shuttles outside their hotel window.
Then there was silence, a long silence, with the manager's lips moving, and Teal'c's eventual "I see." Then the globe went dark.
"Teal'c?"
Teal'c was pulling the moon strip off his face, managing to do so, Jack noted, with hardly a wince. "Daniel Jackson is correct. They are the equivalent of news reporters. Word of Daniel Jackson's challenge of Oludaran's translation has been broadcast to the people, and it seems there are now crowds in front of the council station protesting. Still others are at the Stones searching for a way to discover the treasure."
"Treasure? When did I say treasure?"
Jack looked over to Daniel, observing the other man's appalled expression, his mouth open and face pale. He wasn't looking well. Carter, on the other hand, seemed energetic, almost too much so. Jittery. Then again, she had spent the entire day yesterday inside a fishbowl with nothing to do but sleep.
Yet, so had they - with nothing to do but yawn while Daniel worked - and Jack knew he was feeling fine.
Daniel's outrage was gaining dominion over initial shock. "I said there was something of value located in the area of the pyramids. Even if there was treasure of some sort, it might not even be there any more! I mean, those inscriptions were written what, several hundred years ago?"
"Yeah, we're out of here. Pack up your things, kids."
That order horrified Daniel even more. "Wait, Jack. We can't just pack up now and leave. Whatever's happening out there is because of what I told the hotel manager. I have to finish those translations, and I'm nearly done."
"Daniel, what's happening out there is because the hotel manager jumped the gun and couldn't keep his mouth shut. Any longer and we may not be able to get past the masses, either here or at the stargate. Not even sure we can get past them now."
"We'll find a way."
Through Daniel's drawn, tired face, his determination was blatant, and Jack knew better than to debate. They were already in too deep to just walk away, that much was clear from the mob - albeit a patient, silent mob - outside their walls. It didn't change O'Neill's motivation, but it worked to change his mind. "Then find a way."
Before Jack could stop him, Daniel had placed the receiver on his face and dialed the lobby.
_____
"You're sure this will work?"
"He said there's no one out back. We can borrow the delivery shuttle." Daniel and Jack were already halfway down to the lobby, hoping the gang outside their window wouldn't realize anyone had left the room. With Teal'c positioned in front of the window drawing attention and Carter only too happy to remain behind again, a fact which Jack knew ought to worry him but first things first, Jack just hoped they could sneak out without making a scene. He had no idea how patient reporters on this planet were, but he knew the limits of his own patience, and he wasn't about to spend the rest of the day just staring out the window shooting dirty looks into the windscreens of alien paparazzi.
The moment the elevator opened at the lobby level the manager was standing there; with one backward glance, he ushered them out through some room that looked like it might have been a kitchen - there were pots on white rectangular slabs in the middle of the enormous floor, but no cooks present - and into a two-level parking garage. Correction; hovering garage, where a dozen very large shuttles dominated the mid air and ceiling space.
Slowly, one lowered.
"I will guide you out. No one will notice."
"You sure about that?"
"We use these transports for deliveries. There would be no reason for anyone to be keeping watch over this zone."
"Thank you," Daniel smiled graciously. "Our friends upstairs - they have no communication device," he motioned towards the pack on his back. "Could you check on them a few times today and make sure they're alright?"
The manager agreed. "It will be seen to."
With no more words, Daniel stepped into the front seat - the driver's side, as they'd begun to think of it for no real reason other than it was the way of cars at home - as it was easier to see the pyramids' writings from that position, and Jack slid in beside him. The large craft, designed for four people - two at the front, two in the rear - and much cargo in the center, for the interior was completely empty, rose up and through a now-open hatch in the far wall.
_____
The sky above the lake was a parking lot.
"Holy crap." Jack stared in astonishment at the shuttles hovering around the Stones; dozens of them, caught in bumper to bumper traffic. "We won't be able to get near there."
Some shuttles were occupying center space of the circle, their occupants not trying to read the engravings but hovering inches above water level, as if trying to see what lay below through the glass bottoms. One or two had their side panels open, revealing men with lines dropped into the lake as though fishing. Most were just inching in closer, vying for a space up front. Still others, distant from the rocks themselves, were almost skimming the water's surface, as though treasure might show up elsewhere in the lake. Right ahead of Jack and Daniel, in long haphazard lines, shuttles of various sizes jutted out in every direction; every laser route in the vicinity must have been in use. For a moment Jack wished Carter was here to explain her theories as to how that might work; then he realized he was glad she wasn't. His nerves couldn't have taken it, and from the looks of it, Daniel wasn't in any form to listen either.
Daniel was silent, staring in shock. His face was tight and lined, eyes already red and he hadn't even begun the day's work. Jack studied his friend, then made a decision. "We can't continue today, Daniel." Like it or not.
Daniel nodded, and that struck more of a chord in Jack's brain than the paleness of his friend's face or the drooping eyelids. But Daniel just sat there, staring at the long line of airborne vehicles up ahead, a line that was barely moving. And now, there were shuttles pushing in behind them as well, closing them in.
Reaching into Daniel's pack, Jack lifted out the communications ball.
The thundering crash jarred their nerves, and the ball nearly dropped from his hands. "What the - "
"Over there!" Daniel exclaimed in horror, leaning into the front window. "That shuttle just slammed into another one!"
Jack could see one shuttle down on the surface of the water, quickly submerging. Then it was gone. "Call for help… and then let's get out of here."
Daniel shoved the receiver onto his forehead, and dialed the hotel.
Getting out of there, however, wasn't so easy. With shuttles arriving on all sides of them, their own didn't seem to be moving. Whether the hotel was using a form of GPS or just inputting a route into some program, the shuttle was sensing that it couldn't yet depart, unable to safely free itself from the traffic jam.
Nervously, Daniel kept looking around, sensing panic rising beyond his control. The realization of helplessness caused yet more anxiety, which added to even greater apprehension. If he didn't get this under control soon, he was afraid of suffering a full blown anxiety attack. Then Daniel felt a hand on his arm, and looked up at Jack in confusion.
"Your hands have been shaking." Jack waited a moment before letting go, keeping eye contact. Daniel looked terrible; Jack couldn't remember ever having seen him this way. Well, not while he'd been healthy, anyway.
Daniel glanced down at the jittery hands in his lap, and took a few deep breaths. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm his nerves and settle his stomach. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's happening to me."
"For now, Daniel, we're stuck here. Maybe you should get some rest."
With his eyes remaining shut, Daniel nodded. But all he could visualize was a grouping of pyramids surrounded by shuttles that were there because of something he'd said.
Another thundering crash sent a shuddering ripple through the air, their cargo module vibrating with the displacement of energy. This time Daniel kept his eyes closed and didn't look. All he hoped was that the next crash wouldn't involve them.
Directing a worried glance towards his teammate, Jack decided not to tell Daniel how close that one had been.
_____
Jack was keeping a close eye on his archeologist; the younger man was barely staying upright. Daniel had been quiet all the way back, a lost look in his eyes, and if Jack didn't know better, he'd label it depression. Not that he did know better; maybe Daniel actually was depressed. This wasn't, after all, the mission on which they'd expected to embark. Nothing new there, though; when did anything ever go as planned, in the vast worlds of the unknown?
Their shuttle had finally managed to maneuver around the traffic jam, and they made it back to the shuttle park and up the elevator without incident. Neither man was looking forward to what they might find upon sliding open that hotel room door, however.
Carter was under the bed, or, more specifically, engaged in examining an open panel at the base of the bed. The paparazzi shuttles were gone from in front of the window, which to Jack seemed like a good thing, yet Teal'c was looking grimmer than usual.
Jack's eyes scanned from one to the other, assessing the visuals. "What's up? No, let me rephrase that. What the hell's up?" he asked, helping Daniel over to his section of the bed.
"No!" and "Do not lie down!" came two simultaneous cries, as Daniel jumped back up again, nearly stumbling as Jack steadied him, helping him over to a bench, where he promptly lay down and closed his eyes.
"Okay, what the crap's going on?" And why wasn't Daniel interested in hearing the response? Had to be some alien bug in his system.
Teal'c stood nearly at attention, making Jack nervous. The colonel knew he ought to be used to that by now, though.
"We have discovered the reason for Major Carter's and Daniel Jackson's extreme lethargy and anxiety."
That, he hadn't been expecting, and Jack held his expression tight, unreadable. "Should I be sitting down?"
"There is a power mechanism under the bed." Teal'c didn't wait for O'Neill to act.
"Meaning…?" Jack's expression could not have appeared more clueless.
"My guess, sir, is that the power sparks a heat-activated chemical reaction within the gelled bubbles in the pillows for a most… let's say, captivating night's sleep."
"Meaning?" Not clueing in yet. Not just a sedative? Sedative multiplied by…?
"Meaning, captivating, sir."
"I believe it to be from the root word 'captive', O'Neill."
Captive… something was dawning on Jack, something he so didn't want to hear.
"What, you're saying you're addicted to the goddamned pillow?" Jack stared in disbelief; he knew there'd been a reason that thing creeped him out.
Carter swung her right arm out from inside the panel, but didn't attempt to rise as her eyes locked with the colonel's. "After I lie down, sir, I feel better. Energized. The same thing happened yesterday; that's how I figured it out. Then Teal'c inquired down at the lobby, sir. He uh, he asked the right questions."
"And?" Jack was scowling, as he cast a look at Daniel. The archeologist had his eyes open, semi-alert and listening from his bench, his face a mask of resignation and horror, as well as the two could go together. "Explain."
"All the good hotels have them."
"What, like swimming pools? Saunas? What the hell for?"
Carter sat up. "Maybe you should sit down, Colonel."
"Oh, don't tell me it gets worse." Jack was about to sit on the bed, then caught himself.
"As long as you do not use the pillow, O'Neill, you may lie on the bed."
So that's why he was feeling fine. "But Daniel didn't use the pillow last night." Just the night before last… crap.
"He did not. Today he is not well."
"Colonel, you remember P4X-347? That planet we went to with that flowing light, when we were all addicted except for Teal'c?"
"No, don't remember it, Carter. Don't remember Daniel dying and all of us having to spend three weeks recuperating." Don't remember Daniel trying to jump off his balcony from eight floors up… almost the same height as they were now, here, at this hotel getting weirder by the moment. "What about it? This the same thing?" Damn it; if it was, they couldn't go home.
"The people from this planet, sir, are the descendents of the slaves who served the Goa'ulds who frequented that place. Eventually, the Goa'ulds grew more and more impatient waiting to turn the device down for three weeks in order to allow their human slaves to de-toxify. Why should they wait, when they could get more slaves elsewhere, right? So they stopped bothering and just gave up on them. They dumped them on this planet, which was a lot less developed back then."
Something didn't make sense. "But if they were still addicted they would've died." Same as Daniel, same as SG-5.
"Exactly. Many people died from a brain chemistry imbalance, and others killed themselves. The clerks down in the lobby didn't know much more than that, but putting two and two together, sir, Teal'c and I have come to the conclusion that to counteract the side effects, those who were able invented or altered already existing devices that would feed their addiction and let them get on with their lives to some degree."
"Beds and pillows?" Jack was dumbfounded.
"Yes, sir. There are legends that the fountains in the parks were once meant for Goa'uld pleasure as well, but never worked properly; I'm thinking they were really intended to help the addicted slaves adjust. But maybe they found that direct, intense contact with this chemical, when activated, could trigger and accelerate the same sort of neural activity in the brain, its strongest effect occurring when absorbed by the skin or inhaled."
"All the people living here can't still be addicted, Carter. That was decades ago, maybe centuries."
"No, sir. But think about it. Over the decades they would have grown used to these beds; Semiran said almost everyone uses them from infancy because they're so comfortable. I think, Colonel, that they're born addicted; have been ever since the Goa'uld left them here, and they don't even realize it. The people who were never taken as slaves would eventually have begun to use the pillows as well, not realizing what was happening to them. Any time they'd try to sleep on something else, they'd wake up feeling miserable; it's been powerful conditioning, sir. Teal'c and I are assuming that going without the pillows overnight makes some people aggressive, others withdrawn. But they're always treated during the night while they sleep. Otherwise, my guess is that they get sick and probably end up dead."
"Ah." That would explain the lack of homeless people in the streets.
"They do not comprehend how badly they require this treatment," Teal'c added, "as it has been, and remains, nothing but their desired and familiar way of life."
"Lower class hotels, sir, where people bring their own bedding, are either for those few who somehow aren't addicted, or are used only sporadically for a single night at a time. Same as those benches. Which is why we were upgraded to a four star bed," she grinned ruefully.
"Why didn't that Yarrden let us know about this?" Jack scowled.
"He would have slept here without it affecting him, as it wouldn't have affected Teal'c, had he used it. Just as Teal'c wasn't addicted to the light machine's power emissions the way we were. All Yarrden would've had was a really, really good night's sleep, if he even used the bed at all. We don't know that the Tok'ra sleep any more than Teal'c did when he had his symbiote, sir; I never asked my dad." Carter paused, then continued. "The hotel clerks don't give their devices or technology a second thought. They don't seem to understand there's anything wrong with using the pillows. They reacted as though we were unreasonable and paranoid to be so concerned."
"Damn it. So I repeat my question; you and Daniel are addicted to the bed?"
The dismay already apparent on Daniel's face curled the stomachs of his teammates.
"And pillow, yes, sir."
"Can you shut the power down? Halfway? A little at a time?" Been there, done that, could do it again, however unwillingly.
"I've been trying, sir. So far, no. No one seemed to know anything about any controls, and didn't have a clue as to why there'd be any in a bed. They really didn't know what we were talking about, other than the fact that what are called 'perojin' pillows go with 'magnio' beds for a great night's sleep. As you've seen, sir, they don't work independently of each other."
Right; he'd slept on the bed without the pillow and he was fine. "The chemical's called perojin?"
"That's my assumption, yes."
"What if you turn off the power? Unplug it? Remove the battery?"
"If I can figure put how to do that. We have no idea what the effect would be, sir, but…"
But they could guess. "Keep at it." Still playing on his mind was that other question, the one he so didn't want to ask but needed to know. "Is this as potent as that big one?" Will you die if we take you home?
"There's no way of knowing, Colonel. We'll have to find out the hard way."
Trial and error; 'gate home and find out… and have their brains go haywire? "Nope, not gonna experiment on you two, Carter. Find out some other way." Jack sauntered over to the other side of the room, his mind screaming with unwelcome thoughts.
"We have to help them."
"What?" Jack swung around to see Daniel raised up on his elbows on the bench, looking even worse than before.
"We have to find a way to rid these people of their addiction."
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Yes, why, Daniel? It doesn't seem to bother them any. If they're born with an addiction, there's not much we can do for them. Don't even know what to do for someone who's just acquired it, either," he scowled.
Daniel wasn't giving up; knowing the cause of his moodiness and depression didn't make it any better, and he could empathize even more strongly with these people now. "Some of them must still commit suicide, or homicide, not realizing the cause of their depression or anger and going too long without one of those pillows. We've seen a lot of fighting in the streets, and we've only been here a couple of days. And look at what happened at the l…" Daniel broke off, sickening memories of that very afternoon at the lake returning to haunt him.
"Right now, Daniel, I'm just going to concentrate on getting you and Carter out of here in one piece, alive and healthy, got it?"
Daniel blinked, unable to keep his eyes from drooping, and lay back down, his arm flung over his face. He'd expended what energy he had left.
Jack curled his lip in distaste, wondering what else could go wrong. Fortunately, he had no way of knowing exactly how much was yet to come. "Teal'c? What happened to the crowds outside our window?"
"The shuttles moved off during the afternoon, O'Neill. The few that remained also left after a period of time."
"They gave up?"
"I do not know."
"Come with me. Let's go talk to the management."
CHAPTER 9
Whoa.
Jack paled when they reached the lobby. Crowds were everywhere, this time on foot and in person. He was just about to order Teal'c to talk the elevator back up when he realized the management - Semiran and Ho Paridu, along with two more men similarly attired in pale yellow silken and embroidered shirts and gray ankle-length skirts, wide black sash around their waists - would never be able to fend off the mob or keep them from SG-1's room. He and Teal'c would have to diffuse the situation immediately; unfortunately, the most diplomatic member of his team was upstairs having a nap. On the bed, Jack mused angrily, with the pillow; for Daniel was fading and needed his fix. There'd been no other way to help him. It had taken only one night for this to happen; going without the pillow the previous night had only made Daniel sick, his temperature spiking. Carter had admitted to using the pillow both during the night, and during the day. She was high as a kite, with the energy of a dozen Duracel batteries.
Almost as one, the crowd and management turned to the elevator, the hotel employees' faces wild with panic. Ho Paridu rushed towards them, speaking frantically, in a mixture of English and Goa'uld.
"He says we must speak to the people, O'Neill."
"Yeah, got that. We'll speak. Tell him to get them all to shut up first." Jack smiled ingratiatingly, realizing some of them might have heard, and understood, that.
Teal'c just bowed to the manager.
"Tell us what's going on," Jack kept his voice calm, clenching his hands behind his back.
Words were exchanged, and the crowd slowly quieted, a few people being held back by others, anger engraved on their faces.
"The dispatch correspondents were called away from here to meet at the Stones earlier today. There were several unfortunate incidents in which deaths occurred," Ho Paridu explained. More conversation followed, along with shouts from the crowd. "People are in competition for the treasure. Many tempers raged; men became angry and attacked others who cut into their place in line at the lake."
Yeah… saw that. "Road rage?" Men who had been away from their beds the previous night, in preparation for searching for a long lost treasure?
"Still others ventured too close to the water. As the shuttles lose height they become harder to control. Navigators who lack experience succumb to the distortions in visual acuity, combined with the unnatural pull of laser function. State equipment has already pulled up four downed shuttles from the lakebed. The people here are family members of those killed at the Stones; they are wanting Daniel Jackson to come forward and face them. They do not believe his words against those of Oludaran. They are convinced their loved ones died for no reason, searching for something that does not exist. They are calling for Daniel Jackson to admit his lies, his culpability."
"Daniel Jackson does not tell falsehoods."
Ho Paridu shook his head. "These people were expecting Oludaran to be the one to lead them forward. Hearing about treasure… well, something like that just whets urges in certain men. As the word spreads, more and more try to get in on the fortune. The deaths today are being seen as a direct result of Daniel Jackson's words."
"Crap." Who was the one who couldn't wait to spread those words, eh?
"Indeed."
"Tell them Daniel isn't lying, but he needs time to finish the translations," Jack suggested. This would at least buy them some time. SG-1 couldn't leave and risk Daniel's and Carter's chemical imbalance getting out of hand. Well, more out of hand. They couldn't stay here, though, either, with the climate turning to outrage at Daniel's translations. And yet, Daniel had never said anything about treasure. These people were right; those who'd died may well have been searching for something that didn't exist. Daniel would have to finish what he'd begun, hopefully before more men died. First, they'd have to find a way to get through that traffic to actually reach the Stones.
This crowd did not appear to be settling at Ho Paridu's words. They were irate, and out for more blood. Blood for blood.
"Teal'c, don't you think it's odd there aren't any authorities here to break up an angry mob?" Jack whispered, not that anyone would have heard him, amidst all that commotion.
"If authorities exist here, O'Neill, they do not appear to be on our side."
Once again on this mission, Jack felt at a loss. Options kept flitting through his mind and vanishing like quarters in a slot machine. They ought to get out of here, but Daniel and Carter needed to wean themselves off that bed somehow. Maybe if they waited long enough, the fury would die down. Or grow stronger, as more feuds raged. People waiting in those lineups would be without their own fix, although getting the shuttles home by dark probably was the rule for a reason, ensuring that people would be back in their beds at night. Still, they'd seen aggression in the streets; if people didn't realize they needed those beds and pillows, thus spending the night without them, no wonder tempers were flaring. And anyone staying out at the lake at night was not home getting a perojin fix. "What do they want Daniel to tell them? I doubt one of his usual sincere apologies would work."
"I do not know. However, I do not think it wise to have him face these people."
"No, I wasn't suggesting that. Not in his present condition." Jack looked helplessly at his teammate. "Let's explain that Daniel needs to do the rest of the translation, that people should just go home and leave the treasure alone until he's done. Translate for me, in case they don't all understand English."
The words had no visible effect on the crowd, and Jack and Teal'c finally backed into the elevator, leaving the management and employees to deal with the riotous mob on their own.
_____
"You okay?" Carter and Daniel were standing at the cooking block, fiddling with MREs when Jack and Teal'c returned. Jack eyed Daniel critically; they'd been gone barely over an hour.
"A bit better. Not feeling like jumping out the hatch or anything." Daniel smiled.
"Don't ev-en think it," Jack admonished with a blazing look. "Should you be out of bed yet?"
"I got hungry. So what's going on?"
"Well, for one thing, you've started a damn gold rush."
Daniel turned to stare at Jack, his eyes trying to read everything into that comment that Jack hadn't said. What the hell had happened down there?
"Seems people everywhere are searching for treasure nowadays. But, hey, we already knew that. Oh, by the way, the shuttle crashes we saw today? No tailgating accidents. Road rage; people are just getting tired of waiting their turns in line."
"Oh God."
Jack was almost sorry he'd said that, or the way it had come out; it wasn't what Daniel needed to hear. It wasn't as though he was upset at Daniel; on the contrary, he was just venting off his irritation towards the people of this planet, people he hadn't even met, and he was used to Daniel being able to soften his mood with sensible logic. Not this time, though. He watched regretfully as his teammate left the cooking module and went to sit on the bench, clasping his hands and looking down into the fountain far below, and was grateful he hadn't mentioned the lynch mob. "It's not your fault, Daniel."
"No?" Daniel gave a small, sardonic chuckle. "You mean this was happening before we arrived?"
Jack sat beside his friend, aiming this time to choose his argument and words more carefully. "You just happen to be the first one to translate the writings properly. Eventually someone else would have done it."
"I doubt it. There can't be any record of hieroglyphics here or they would have translated the script long ago, and even if there is, it took a Rosetta Stone on Earth to decipher it."
"So they'd continue to be exploited by liars who pretend they can read it. Is that any better?"
At Daniel's shrug, Jack nudged him with his shoulder. "Hey. Translating is your job; it's why you're here. And without it we'd be paying $900 a night."
"More, sir," Carter cut in. "We were upgraded. And by the way, food's ready."
Jack nudged Daniel again. "Come on, let's eat. You're hungry." So was he; power bars in the shuttle didn't count as food, as far as he was concerned. He'd forgotten about that grocery store again, not that there was any way out of this hotel without attracting a mob. For some reason, he just didn't trust room service at the moment.
Daniel's voice was quiet, the words spoken as he continued to gaze down at the floor. "What do we do now?" He couldn't keep the increasing dread from his tone. "As it seems our only options are to go home and lock me and Sam up on twenty-four hour watch…" Daniel paused. And hope we don't kill ourselves or die from neural overload or restructuring. "Or stay here and face the music."
"At nine hundred plus dollars a night?" Jack looked up as a shuttle flew past the window, his stomach clenching. The thing didn't stay, though. "Unless you keep up with the translating, I don't see them giving us free accommodation."
"So you want to leave, or are you telling me to continue? How? We can't get near there."
They couldn't leave, not after what had happened on P4X-347. SG-5 had come home and died. Daniel had come home and promptly flat-lined - after trying to jump off his eighth floor balcony - and returning to that planet had been the only way to revive him. Jack knew what Daniel's preference would have been regardless, and while Jack hated to admit it, his own conscience was telling him the same thing. "We started this, Daniel, and we'll finish it. We'll find a way." He could sense the other man's release of tension, just a little bit. "Come on, we both need to eat."
This time Daniel complied.
_____
The noises woke them. Sounded like the hatch sliding shut.
Jack shot up in bed, only moments before two other heads popped up from their clover sections. The fourth was a shadow, already making his way stealthily towards the outer room.
Rising quietly and grabbing his P-90 from the floor by his circle of bed, quickly slipping into his boots without tying the laces, Jack followed Teal'c, aware of his other two teammates behind him doing the same. Stockinged feet made one too vulnerable in the event of a physical altercation or the need for a quick departure.
Through the glass walls they could make out dark, moving shapes in their adjoining room. Shapes; there was more than one someone in there. "Lights!" Teal'c commanded as he reached the doorway, and the room was filled with soft light from the seemingly liquid blue opaque wall.
There… standing in front of two shuttles - one obviously not their own - were four men, facing them with some sort of weapons drawn.
The sound had been the hatch opening, not closing, and now another unwelcome vessel rose up through the aperture, the two other shuttles automatically sliding out of the way to accommodate it. There were four more intruders inside that one.
SG-1's weapons were aimed. What damage gunfire would cause in this place was uncertain, and to be avoided if possible. Jack didn't want to land in that pool down below, or otherwise go flying out a shattered twelfth story window.
"What's going on?" Best case scenario, these guys were paparazzi and those things in their hands were some sort of camera. But… anyone with semi-decent intentions wouldn't be breaking in in the middle of the night with eight men, would they? Jack guessed there was no locking system on these hatches; who would logically be picking locks a hundred and twenty feet in the air?
Teal'c repeated the question in Goa'uld as one of the four men climbed out from the second invading shuttle.
"My name is Oludaran," that one said after a brief pause, eyeing the team disdainfully. "I believe you've heard of me." His words were in English, and his face was familiar. Daniel and Jack had seen it on a dozen glass tabloid tiles.
Daniel froze, taking a moment to regain a fraction of composure. "We have." He took a breath, knowing he may as well jump right in. "You've been lying to these people."
"And you have not?" Oludaran was calm, his men just hanging about, leaning against the waist-high hovering shuttles, their eagle eyes watching SG-1. Weapons remained in their hands, loosely drawn.
"No. I do know how to read the language on the… Stones."
"Prove this to me." The man dug into his pocket and withdrew a paper. Unfolding it and holding it out in front of him, he motioned to Daniel. "Tell me what this says. It's written in the language of the Stones."
"You can't write Egyptian cursive," Daniel pointed out. How would the man know whether or not Daniel was lying? "Or can you?" he asked suspiciously. Just because Oludaran was lying about the inscriptions didn't mean he didn't know the truth of what they really said. This man was not from Luok'shuo at all, they'd been told. He'd been a stranger, come out of nowhere to decipher the Stones and cheat these people. "Who are you, really? Where are you from?" The man used paper, another sign of a culture different from that of Luok'shuo.
Ignoring the insinuations, Oludaran responded. "This writing has been copied from the Stones themselves. Tell me what it says. Perhaps I do know how to read it."
Daniel moved forward but found himself held back by Teal'c, Jack voicing an urgent "Careful, Daniel" in the background.
"I shall retrieve the paper, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c moved forward, all eyes on him. "Place it on the ground and move away," he advised Oludaran.
As Oludaran did so with a slight chuckle, Teal'c retrieved the note and brought it back to SG-1's side of the showdown arena, handing it to the team's linguist.
Daniel squinted at it, frowning. "Are you sure you copied this properly?"
"I am."
Daniel shook his head. "I can't translate this. It doesn't say anything."
"Then you have lied."
If his aim was to get Daniel flustered, it was working. "No, I haven't. I can read the symbols on the Stones, just, just, just not this. It isn't Egyptian; I don't know what this is. If it's from one of the Ostracons then it's one I haven't encountered yet, in a language I'm not familiar with."
Oludaran nodded, then was silent long enough to create even more tension in the room. "You do speak the truth. What is in your hand I made up, to see if you were lying."
This was Jack's cue to cut in, his pulse raging and anger racing. His fingers still tightly gripped his gun. "So now you won't mind us telling you to leave. You're trespassing."
But Oludaran shook his head at the words. "No. Now I must deal with this problem. You cannot interfere with my plans."
Before SG-1 had a chance to react, they found themselves dropping to the floor. As he fell, Jack caught the looks of shock and pain in his teammates' faces, the same expression he knew they could identify on his own. Sharp bolts of agony sliding up and down his spine, he found himself unable to move, weapon lying uselessly in his hand. Awareness remained; SG-1's eyes open and seeing, but limbs that were as good as dead, the team was very much aware of Oludaran as he stepped over their prone bodies. They also heard his words of warning. "I might not have reason to kill you yet; don't give me one."
Already knowing what to do, Oludaran's hit men pulled the lax bodies, one at a time between two of them, into their two shuttles.
"Lights out," Oludaran ordered, and the hotel room bathed itself again in darkness, the first of two shuttles already exiting the hatch and taking off into the night.
"I thought they couldn't fly at night," O'Neill mumbled, still too weak to move anything but his lips and eyelids… and tongue. How many hours had it been? Three, four? Having arrived at their destination, they had all been picked up and transferred from their modules into a single cargo shuttle, much to Jack's slightly warped sense of relief. The last thing he wanted was to have his team separated, as they'd been on the way over. As for their situation, though, it hadn't improved much in the past few hours.
"That is perhaps a ploy to make certain that people return to their beds at night, as you yourself have suggested."
"Or it might just be a hotel rule, sir. Their clerks sleep at night and don't want to be guiding shuttles around the place." Allowing guests to be in charge of their own shuttles might lead to theft or accidents… especially if the guests were in need of a perojin fix. Best to make sure they got to sleep on time.
"Kind of puts a damper on the city's night life." Jack still couldn't lift even a finger, nor did he see any of his team doing so. Not even Teal'c. "Everyone okay?"
"I am not yet able to move, O'Neill."
"Me neither, sir."
"Daniel?"
The silence told them Daniel was still not able to speak. None of them had been unconscious during the journey, however. Now, in the glint of dawn, this larger shuttle was stopped, hovering. Lying there on their backs in the otherwise empty space between the front and rear seats, through the glass they were aware they had come far; the city and buildings were long gone. Instead, rocky mountains rose above them, surrounding them, as they hovered above craggy outcroppings and crevices, the mountains tumbling to a creased, uneven jaggedness of landscape hundreds of feet below.
They knew exactly where they were; Oludaran and his men had deposited themselves in the shuttle port of a large castle-like structure only an hour before, then transferred the team to this shuttle and sent it into the skies, its only cargo now SG-1.
There the team remained, unable to move, unable to control the aircraft, at the mercy of those who operated the remote. At the mercy of Oludaran.
"S…sorry," was the first intelligible word from Daniel's lips.
"This isn't your fault, Daniel," Sam rebutted gently.
"You are not to blame," Teal'c agreed.
"Am s…so," Daniel closed his eyes. He didn't want to look up and see the peaks of towering mountains, didn't want to peer sideways and see a sunrise. Didn't want to meet the despair on the faces of his teammates. Apart from the general knowledge that they were only here because of him, he also knew that some of the deep depression setting in was not totally due to their involuntary confinement. He hadn't had a full night's sleep with the perojin-magnio pillow and bed, and the minor degree of relief seemed to be wearing off. "Sam? Y… you okay?"
Sam knew what he meant, knew why she'd been singled out. She was jittery. Anxious, angry. Weren't they all? "Fine, Daniel," she lied.
There they lay, unmoving on a transparent floor, far far above anywhere they wanted to be.
_____
By the time they were able to move, the sun was up, wispy white cirrus clouds casting shading across the mountains that made the rocky ranges appear to change shape every few minutes. With very little imagination one could believe the shuttle was actually moving. However, they knew it wasn't.
They were out in the middle of nowhere, with only Oludaran and his buddies knowing their whereabouts. To all concerned it would appear they were just avoiding the masses, hiding out somewhere. They'd left their packs and their shuttle behind; even the hotel workers would think they'd skipped out during the night through the delivery garage.
"Any way to get this thing flying?" Jack asked again, enjoying the sensation of being able to flex his arms. Standing was out of the question in a four-foot high module, so he'd allowed Teal'c to take the driver's seat while he again sat on the passenger side. Carter was perching on a seat in the rear, wringing her hands and bouncing a knee, while Daniel stretched out his legs in the bare central floor space. He still found it unnerving to see through the floor under his legs; a part of him fought the urge to grasp a handhold for fear of falling to the cliffs below.
"I said no, Colonel. Oludaran has the remote. Even if I could get it to move, he'd override my control." Carter's tone was sharp.
"A remote has to have internal connections to make this hunk of glass work. Override it."
"Colonel, the connections might be here somewhere, but they're useless without a means to make them function." She was sounding irritable.
"Which is the meaning of manual." A manual might be nice, too. Anyone see a glove compartment?
"Quit it, Colonel. You know damn well I'd be working on it if there were any way. I don't even have any tools."
"Major!"
Sam could tell everyone was looking at her. "What?"
"I'll forgive your tone, as I know you didn't sleep much last night."
"Christ, I wish you - " Sam realized what was about to come out of her mouth, and why. Taking a breath and counting to twelve, she instead continued, "I'm sorry, sir. That was uncalled for."
"Actually, Carter, it wasn't. I know you of all people would be finding a way out of here if there was one."
The day wore on, with SG-1 becoming increasingly fidgety, and decreasingly optimistic. While the state of being imprisoned high in the air in a glass tube had them all keyed up and overwrought, their predicament precarious and threatening, Jack was even more concerned for Daniel and Carter. He watched the major's uneasiness grow more and more out of control. Verbally blunt and snappish, she could barely concentrate. Although Carter had had more rest than she'd probably required lately, she'd also used that bed and pillow combination each and every time.
Daniel, on the other hand, just sat there, silent and almost still as a block of wood, except for the trembling hands he was trying so hard to control, pinning them under his legs to hide them from view. Given his depression and lethargy, Jack hardly noticed Daniel staring for the better part of an hour at the door hatch across the side of the shuttle. Not, at least, until Daniel vaulted from his position on the floor and gave the hatch a shove.
"Hey!" Jack leapt from his seat and grabbed Daniel's arm roughly, Teal'c lunging to grab the other, as they pulled a slightly struggling Daniel down to the floor and sprawled over him. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I can't take this any more. I have to get out of here." Daniel's eyes were turbulent, his tone beseeching.
"Damn it, Daniel, we're a good seven hundred feet up."
"I don't care."
The words smacked into Jack like a baseball off a bat. For the past nine hours his team had been trapped, keeping their fears to themselves. Now it was all coming out, his drugged, chemically dependent teammates harboring the worst of it. "Well we do, Daniel. And you will in a few days, too, I guarantee."
Struggling harder to remove himself from their grasp, Daniel again dove for the door panel. Jack and Teal'c were on him in a flash. With the last of his energy Daniel finally went limp, allowing himself to be dragged to the rear of the compartment and positioned into the seat beside Sam. The edges of the seat curled like a sponge around his limbs.
"There's likely a safety feature stopping the doors from opening in mid-air anyway," Carter surmised nonchalantly, watching the goings-on. She knew she should be glad of that, but right at that moment she didn't think she cared much about anything. If Daniel had succeeded in jumping out, well, she may just have followed.
"Oh ya think, do you? Then explain how someone had it open over the lake," Jack challenged angrily, releasing his hold on Daniel and sinking onto the floor in front of the door panel. Next time, he'd be prepared. Crap. The thought made his blood chill.
None of them could take much more of this; the uncertainty and helplessness were as bad as the boredom and lack of food and drink. Give them another day and his two scientists would probably end up voluntarily killing each other.
Suddenly, pulling them from their misery, a voice sounded over the speaker, one that they already recognized far too well. Oludaran apparently felt he had let them stew long enough. Or maybe he was getting bored, too.
"Perhaps you've become tired of sitting in a vessel," Oludaran began. "I wish now to offer you a way out."
A rude comment close to his lips, Jack decided to swallow the urge and be civil. He was well aware Oludaran had the upper hand, and his team needed out of there ASAP. Before he could open his mouth, Teal'c intervened.
"For what reason have you kept us imprisoned here?"
"You mean instead of having already killed you for getting in my way?"
Jack cast a quick look over at Teal'c. Not exactly what he had meant, but …
"Explain this offer."
Good. That was preferable to what Jack had been about to say. Less said, the better, he reminded himself. And sometimes, fewer insults the better, too. But... just sometimes.
"I have but a very simple proposal. While it would serve my purpose to simply do away with the one who challenges my ability to read the writings, along with the rest of you, there has already been damage done to my character that I wish to see rectified."
Jack briefly scanned the solemn faces of his teammates. There wasn't any way out of this that would be suitable, from his point of view. If his feet were safely on the ground, whatever Oludaran said next would have been met with unsavory terms of anti-endearment. Up here, however, was not a safe place for him to lose whatever paltry diplomatic skills nested in his tongue; leaving them hovering in this thing for days was likely not out of Oludaran's capability or desire. Unless… the man was bluffing. Weaseling a palace out of a populace wasn't the same as committing murder; Jack wasn't, however, confident enough on that suspicion to call his bluff.
"Say what the hell it is you want, Ollie."
There was a slight, low chuckle, then a pause. "I request only that your translator agree to admit to the authorities that he has been lying about the inscriptions and the treasure."
"I didn't lie," Daniel interrupted morosely from the back seat. "Although I never used the word treasure."
"You will tell everyone that you are unable to read the Stones at all," Oludaran clarified. "That you were just jealous of my place in the spotlight."
"And leave you to deceive the people instead. No way," Jack cut in.
"Then you will remain up there until you decide to change your mind. Or…"
Suddenly the shuttle dropped, the sudden shift in altitude jolting them like a roller coaster, stomachs clinging to the inside of their throats. Down it kept falling, terrified teammates exchanging glances, staring at each other in shock. Descending rapidly between two mountain peaks, the module was diving straight into the narrower dimensions of the craggy range. Suddenly it stopped with a sharp bounce and reversed direction, racing upward, jolting the team backwards, Jack sliding sharply into the rear seats. Before the team could catch their breaths it halted with a lurch, and again began to violently drop.
"Stop," Daniel grunted out, his ears popping and stomach trying to settle. "I'll do it."
The shuttle stopped with a jolt.
A few timeless moments passed before Jack managed to speak. "You can't agree to that, Daniel." It wasn't just Oludaran's deception that had Jack concerned, it was what the so-called authorities might do to Daniel if he confessed to such lies. He and Teal'c had seen the angry crowds in the hotel lobby, a mob out for revenge. Simple as the plan might sound, he wasn't about to feed Daniel to the sharks.
"I think maybe I can."
Time for the truth. "There's a lynch mob waiting for you already, Daniel. Men are dying out there, looking for a treasure that may or may not exist. Their families are blaming you." Jack hadn't wanted to plant that on Daniel's shoulders, but his teammate needed to know the details. He hated putting that look on Daniel's face.
"Then I'm the only one who can put an end to it."
"Daniel, lynch mob. Read my lips. They'll kill you."
"We have seen the anger, Daniel Jackson."
"I don't care."
Jack's eyes narrowed. Was that the addiction talking? It certainly wasn't Daniel.
Daniel turned to glance beside him at Sam, her eyes blood-shot, foot tapping aimlessly, her focus now bouncing from face to face, from view to view around them and seeing none of it. He looked at Jack, exhausted, worried, and helpless. Teal'c, who, although healthy, was just as trapped here as the rest of them. "I'll do whatever you want," he began again.
"Excellent. We'll discuss the details," the disembodied voice announced, and, for the first time in hours, the shuttle began to move slowly towards the palace.
Jack stared behind him at Daniel, his expression grim. This was such a wrong move. This couldn't possibly turn out well. But at least it would get them in the right place, with their feet on the ground, even if that ground was miles and miles away from anywhere they needed to be. It was still somewhere to start. He hated to admit that there hadn't really been another choice.
CHAPTER 11
The shuttle deposited them into the landing garage of a completed section of the palace. There, Oludaran and six of his buddies formed a welcoming party. Just the sight of him made Jack cringe. It wasn't the smoothly-styled hair or the extravagantly flowing clothing; it was just what the jerk stood for, and the smug expression on his face. If the man wanted to scheme, then that was his business. Bringing SG-1 in to help him do it felt like nothing short of helping Kinsey gain the presidency.
"Nice place." Jack's icy glare pardoned his words. It wasn't solely sarcasm, however. Even surrounded by six hovering aircrafts of varying sizes, the surround-sight out the transparent walls was breathtaking. Mountains mostly, valleys below. This room did not project or protrude as did their hotel room, so the ground beneath their feet was a solid tiled floor, as polished as a mirror. Connected to the high-ceilinged garage by a third-storey walkway was the crystal clear palace looming out the windows beyond, its many protruding rooms hovering over manmade waterfalls cascading down the sides of the mountains. "Get many visitors?"
Oludaran guessed what O'Neill was playing at. "Only the builders and the authorities know this exact location, and they've been sworn to silence."
"Yes, I'm sure they're paid well from the taxes of the city-folk. Shame to live in secrecy in a place like this."
"That, my dear man, is none of your business."
"What do you want from us?" With each passing minute, Jack's urge to shoot the man increased. Unfortunately, SG-1's weapons were still back at the hotel. While Jack knew that his feelings were not from any aggressive withdrawal symptoms, what did look most disturbing were Daniel's fingers, clenched in a fist, his face taut. Indiscernibly, Jack tapped a single finger on Daniel's tense hand, clueing the archeologist in to his fragile state.
"Your translator will be happy to - "
"My name is Daniel."
Without missing a beat, Oludaran continued. "Good. My name is Oludaran. Now that that's out of the way, I'm sure your translator will be happy to return to the city and contact the authorities." Oludaran smiled at Daniel. "He will admit his lies about the Stones, claiming he wanted only to discredit me and get his turn in the limelight… maybe a palace of his own. The rest of you shall remain here until he returns. Then we might see about sending you home."
Jack pushed forward. The 'might' word hadn't gone unnoticed. "He won't return. He'll be facing a lynch mob out there and you know it." Jack heard Daniel shuffle uncomfortably behind him, heard Carter's reflexive inhalation. Good to know that even through her caustic, chemical-induced, negative frame of mind, she wasn't oblivious to the plight of her teammate.
"I know nothing of the sort, except that these people are too gullible." Oludaran smiled in appreciation of his surroundings, as if enjoying an inside joke.
"You've seen the crowds on the news. You've seen the aggression at the pyramids," Jack insisted. Either the man was blind, or he thought SG-1 to be plain stupid.
Oludaran shrugged. "Not my problem."
Jack's blood was heating. "It is if Daniel's hung out to dry and decides to tell them the truth about you."
"Which is the very reason you'll be staying here, with me. But I'm sure he'll be treated fairly; their ways are civilized."
"Would that be 'fairly' in your eyes, or in ours?" Right, a bunch of angry people in withdrawal from an addiction they don't even realize exists. "Care to bet this palace on that?"
Oludaran's eyes were sharp, holding a glint of mirth. "Do I appear to you as a betting man?"
"You appear to me as a b - "
"To whom exactly do you intend to send Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c intercepted O'Neill's insult.
"The authorities. The Council."
"They'll protect him from the masses? Yeah, sure." Where were these authorities when the mob was down in the hotel lobby, or crowding outside their window? Or when his team was being kidnapped by a self-indulgent lunatic? "And they'll just let us waltz away and go back through the stargate, I suppose."
"They will probably hold a public hearing. And then I shall come along and intervene, as a gesture of good will. I do, as you know, have a certain degree of influence. I'll escort you all to the Chappa'ai and never hear of you again." And that was definitely more of an order and a threat, than a prediction.
"Here's a better idea. Let us leave now and you'll never hear of us again." Jack's eyes never swayed from those of Oludaran, even though the men beside him were no less menacing. Oludaran's coolness didn't fool him; he knew the man felt indestructible with his cohorts holding the weapons, and SG-1 stood to be his only threat in the universe. Although all six of the silent ones were just standing around looking bored, still they managed to achieve the illusion of strength and power. Hell, it was their lives at stake here, too. With Oludaran discredited, they'd lose their jobs of bodyguard - or whatever it was they did - along with their financial security. Not to mention the great view if they had to relinquish this crystal-based mansion.
"Look around. I'm having a stromachite palace built. If they think I've been lying, all this will be lost to me. Daniel has placed a seed of doubt in their minds; he must retract his words about my falsehoods and reinforce my integrity."
"Daniel can't pretend he was lying. Translating is his life's work, he takes it seriously."
"If he doesn't, you four are going nowhere but back into the air. Your shuttle might fall from the sky, but first I'll let the cleansed air diminish, and allow your bodies to grow weak with hunger and thirst in the hopes that you will change your minds."
"Our people will come for us."
"And what will they find? There are many mountain ranges outside Luok'shuo, and many bodies of water. Shuttles fall from the sky every now and then, due to grid malfunctions or poor manual control. Few are ever found. Imagine trying to search for transparent bits of shattered glass in the labyrinthine depths of a mountain range." Oludaran was growing weary of this discussion, and turned his back to the team. What would it matter if he just got rid of these people right now, got them out of the way for screwing up his plans? No, first he had to try to clear his name; what would it matter to them, anyway? They weren't from around here; why should they even care? After he got what he needed from the one who called himself Daniel, he would be free to decide their fates.
"Stop it, I said I'd do it." Daniel's voice was low, his head bowed to match. But the determination to save his friends, to get them all home safely, was etched onto his face.
Jack studied his friend, then exchanged glances with Teal'c. The Jaffa's face was unreadable. Jack looked at Carter; her expression was tormented, distracted and distant.
Jack turned to Oludaran. "First Major Carter and Daniel need to rest. They need those beds with the squishy zits in the pillows."
Oludaran's eyes widened in candid surprise; even his men seemed caught off-guard, four of them shifting to better see the faces of their captives. Oludaran looked at the two scientists with renewed interest, and what seemed to Jack like amusement, further heightening the team leader's ire. "You're in need of the perojin solution? It's on your world as well?" So these newcomers really weren't as smart as he'd suspected. Now that he looked, he could see that the nervous energy, the trembling, the moodiness, may not have been solely due to having been taken hostage and held without food for a day.
"It is not. It is in the room in which we have taken accommodation," Teal'c refuted.
"And you allowed them to use it?" Oludaran challenged Jack, his tone incredulous.
"No! Well, I wouldn't have, if we'd known about the damn stuff." Jack's back was up, defensiveness intact. No one had the right to accuse him of doing anything - knowingly - that would hurt his teammates. He shoved away the unwelcome memory of convincing Daniel and Carter to use the pillows the previous night; it was the only way to help them until they'd gotten a handle on the situation. Carter had been more than willing to agree; Daniel, on the other hand, had been a reluctant participant. All Jack had to do was remember his teammate lying near death in the infirmary after P4X-347, remember the squeal of the heart monitor as Daniel flat-lined, to comprehend and choose the lesser of two evils.
"I see. Well, we have no need for that as we are not from Luok'shuo nor any of the worlds which use the chemical. You won't find that sort of bed in my palace."
The words were stark, unsettling, representing both evil and good and eliciting a rapid flurry of conflicting emotions. If Oludaran knew about the stuff - if he could explain how it worked - this could be advantageous. Yet without a quick fix, and soon, Jack knew his teammates could be leaning towards self-destruction, about to enter a night of unanticipated hell. Wasn't it bad enough they were being held hostage, without going through severe withdrawal too, a state that might eventually end up killing them?
"Daniel can't go back to the town in his present state of exhaustion." Jack didn't know how long the timeline on this was, but even one more day of going downhill would be out of the question, and he couldn't take the risk, for either of his scientists. Somehow, they'd have to come up with a solution, or a better deal.
Oludaran walked away, brushing past his associates. Jack turned to Daniel, alarmed at the resignation overpowering the linguist's state of being; Daniel's head was bent forward, his mouth a tight line, hands clenched into fists and tucked under crossed arms. Carter was staring at them both with bloodshot eyes, looking drained and horrified. Apparently, the lack of perojin in this place had hit home for her as well. Even with the extra usage she'd had the previous day, her interrupted night's sleep and long hours in the shuttle were taking their toll. Jack knew she had controlled her outbursts throughout the day, and was fighting a battle against her own worsening mood. Intellect was the major's weapon of self-preservation even against an enemy that lay within her own body chemistry.
Jack was at a loss for words, for how to handle this. It looked as though they were going to have to ride out the withdrawal and see exactly how potent that stuff really was. So much for not using his teammates as lab rats. "We'll come up with something," he tried to reassure them.
"O'Neill."
Jack shifted on his feet to question Teal'c, but the big guy was watching Oludaran power up a communications globe. They couldn't make out to whom he was speaking, but something was up. Jack tried unsuccessfully to eavesdrop; the language Ollie was speaking wasn't English, and a glance over at Daniel indicated the linguist wasn't listening. Maybe Teal'c was having more success, but the frown on his face revealed nothing. Jack turned his attention to the six friends of Oludaran, still in close proximity, their sharp eyes scrutinizing the four captives. There was no way to overpower them. So far, none of those men had uttered a word to them. Nasty looks, however, were another story. Apparently they didn't like having their lives and plans disrupted by the truth, either.
The device turned dark, and Oludaran walked to the door that led from the garage into an elevator. For a minute no one spoke, the tension as thick as that moldy bread Jack had recently removed from his fridge.
Jack wondered if he'd seem too impatient, asking what they were waiting for. Didn't want to give the impression of being helpless, now, did he? Ah, what the hell. "What's going on?" Screw the impressions.
At that very moment, a body and then a head came into view inside the glass elevator as it lowered itself to the parking level, and the door opened. A man, one whom Jack recognized from the shuttle the night before, stepped out. With an irritated scowl that seemed to be aimed mostly at Oludaran, the man sauntered towards SG-1. He eyed Daniel loathingly. "You can stay with my sister for a night."
Jack's eyes narrowed. "Your sister?"
The man's menacing attention was re-directed towards the leader of SG-1. "She has a spare bed," he explained impatiently.
"One?"
"A perojin-magnio bed."
Ah. One was definitely better than none. Daniel and Carter could take turns; he and Teal'c could sleep on the floor. Jack was surprised that Oludaran had been willing to make that concession; maybe he was worried that in Daniel's perojin-deprived state, the authorities might not actually believe him. Or maybe Ollie just figured Daniel would be a more convincing liar if he was alert and feeling well. "And your sister lives…?" Not in the palace, which might give SG-1 a chance of escaping.
"An hour's journey by shuttle. I will guide them." He motioned for Daniel and Sam to move.
"Us, you mean."
"No," Oludaran cut in, as several of his men moved to block O'Neill's way. "You and the Jaffa will remain here."
Jack felt a shiver slide up his spine, this one having nothing to do with a paralyzing weapon, and he mentally shook it off. Oludaran recognized a Jaffa when he saw one. "Uh, no. Not gonna happen. We don't break up my team." He did not want half his team at opposite ends of a municipality they knew very little about, at the mercy of someone proving himself to be an enemy. He could sense Teal'c tensing beside him.
"They go alone, or not at all."
The rage was freeing itself again. "Look - "
"You have no bargaining power," Oludaran cut him off, himself growing increasingly impatient. "Make your choice, quickly. Izzrek didn't even want to ask her, nor does he want to be inconvenienced by the loss of his shuttle for a day. He's doing this only because I require a favor." He eyed Jack slyly. "Here I was, thinking you'd be pleased."
"It's alright, Jack. We'll be fine by morning." Wishing he didn't have to be refreshed by a bed he hadn't chosen to be addicted to in the first place, Daniel just wanted this to be over with. Wanted Sam to find a way to wean them off this thing; wanted only to go home and sleep. Other than that, there was nothing much else he cared about.
"I'm not comfortable with this, Daniel," Jack cautioned.
"You don't have to be!" Daniel's temper flared so suddenly it caught them all off guard, and for a moment Jack was taken back to a time in Hammond's office, when Daniel had been addicted to the light and no one had known. That power source had been deadly.
Daniel's face took on the cast of shame. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that, Jack."
Jack hated giving in, and his voice held bitterness. "I think you'd better get to bed asap." With or without me and Teal'c tagging along. Feeding a teammate's addiction went so far off Jack's scale of rightness that he couldn't bear to even consider the reality of it, but the fact was, they had no knowledge yet of how to combat this malady and until they did, his two teammates needed to be kept safe and alive. Turning back to Oludaran, he asked, "What do you know about this perojin stuff? Will the effects wear off on their own?"
"Sure, they wear off with death." Oludaran grinned slyly. "I'm assuming that wasn't what you meant, however."
Jack tried to ignore the burning hatred for this man. "Do you know how to lower the bed's energy output?"
"Lower it? It can't be done."
"It could be done with the kaleidoscope machine the Goa'uld used to use… and you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you."
This time Oludaran did miss a beat, and one of his silent men whispered something in his ear. Oludaran's eyes went wide. "Are you referring to the gratification fountain on Rishtal?"
"We refer to a chamber of colorful flowing lights, in a pleasure palace by the sea," Teal'c stated.
"You've been there?" Oludaran questioned, not waiting for an answer as he nodded knowingly. "And you survived it; I'm almost impressed." He eyed Teal'c suspiciously. "Or did you tell them how it works?"
"I did not."
"What do you know about it?" Jack was growing impatient.
"That meditation center was designed for the Goa'uld upon their order, and they treated it as a way to instantaneous ecstasy and bliss. It was only devised to be turned off when they discovered that without symbiotes to protect them from the hypnotic and debilitating effects, even their most trustworthy slaves would soon die, and that rendered them rather useless." Oludaran looked warily at Jack and Teal'c, pretty much ignoring Daniel and Sam; for his needs at the moment, they, too, were useless. "Not to mention making the Goa'uld look like fools for losing so many slaves. How much of this do you know?"
"That much. Go on."
"After a time the Goa'uld became careless and impatient, and began bringing their slaves home with them far too soon, and again began to lose them. Slaves were dying all over the place. Soon the Goa'uld just began to dump them here - as this was the world from which many had been stolen in the first place - and forgot about them."
"But they survived," Jack prodded.
"Those slaves who had been given enough time in that meditation centre on Rishtal and treated effectively, brought much Goa'uld technology back with them here to this planet, and adapted it to the needs of their people. The buildings, the dupa flying machines, the beds. They constructed those magnio beds to be used with the perojin in order to control their compatriots' physical state after being returned from the meditation centre, and the Goa'uld rejects stopped dying. Their offspring, however, were born with the affliction, and so the Goa'uld finally gave up on them completely and left this planet alone. These people weren't worth their time and effort." Oludaran paused, as Jack tried to discern whether the man's attitude was one of disdain for the people themselves, or for the Goa'ulds who'd left them here.
"They keep feeding their addiction, even after all this time. Why?"
"Why do you think? The past inhabitants here on Luok'shuo knew that if they were ever totally healed, the Goa'uld might some day come back for them. They didn't want a cure; they didn't create their power sources to be lowered. Now in modern times, they no longer think about it; it's become a way of life."
So. Their intel and assumptions had been right on the money. But that didn't bode well for Daniel or Carter. Jack swore under his breath, and avoided his teammates' eyes. He didn't want to see his own dark mood reflected in their faces. "Doctors… medical personnel haven't intervened?"
Oludaran's face broke into a grin, followed by a clipped laugh. "Medicine isn't something these people could learn from Goa'uld knowledge. They tried to duplicate those healing devices but couldn't get them to work." He shrugged noncommittally.
"So no health professionals? There's no medical technology here at all?" Jack found the idea ludicrous; even the most primitive societies had their own versions of medicine. Or was that something that was taboo here too, so that no one would ever discover the truth behind the perojin?
"Did I say that? They break bones, have accidents. Sometimes diseases. Sometimes they get better, sometimes they don't. Medical expertise here is referred to as shad'ro'ben kal'nod."
"Meaning...?"
"Restorative technical support. Robotic. Not human. Trust me, you don't want to need them. They screw things up as often as they help."
"Trust you? Like we have a reason to d - "
"Fine with me. Let's take Daniel to kal'nod. I'll gladly watch as a mechanical groper inserts indicators into his brain to see what's gone wrong in there."
"Never mind."
Oludaran turned in disgust, having won his round. "You'll depart now. The Council Hall of the State Station opens after full sunrise, and I expect you'll want to be there as early as possible," he announced to Daniel.
Daniel turned listlessly towards the shuttle.
"Not that one."
"What?" Daniel looked up.
The big guy in blue, Izzrek, was motioning to another air craft, one even larger than the first, in which he'd been fiddling around moments earlier. "That one will be accepted by my sister. You may call her Arrinan. I notified her of your arrival."
"Aren't you coming?" Daniel didn't know whether to be relieved or suspicious.
"No. She will recognize this shuttle; it's the one I always use. She likes to pretend royalty is parked outside her door," Izzrek smirked.
"By the way," Oludaran prodded Daniel to get moving, "remember, your two friends here are with me. They'll spend the next little while in my shuttle a short distance above this mountain. Tell anyone what's happening here and this is the last anyone will see of them."
Daniel froze, his back to the others. He hadn't been counting on escaping, or going back on his word, which was the only plan they had no matter how much it sucked, but that outright threat had his blood both chilling and boiling simultaneously. Fright mixed with fury was a dismal combination in his present state of mind. Swinging around forcefully, his fist collided with Oludaran's face. Daniel turned swiftly again, and nonchalantly walked towards the shuttle, without seeing the blood dripping or the stunned look on Jack's face, the satisfied expression on Teal'c's… or the animosity and fury on Oludaran's. Carter was looking as though she'd missed the whole thing and now wanted a replay.
She didn't miss what happened next.
A large body slammed Daniel into the shuttle, swinging him around to face forward, his back pressed up against the glass of the aircraft. His jacket collar wrapped in the fist of one of Oludaran's men, Daniel found himself eye to eye with a furious face, and a fist pulling back to strike. Trying to squirm away, in the flash of a second he heard the calls of his friends mingled with "Don't, Mazurco. He must not have a mark when he goes to the Council."
The fist froze in mid air, the eyes in the face turning sharper and narrower, filled with venom, and then the arm lowered. It was another moment before the hand released his collar. Daniel had barely had time to react, had only a split second to feel fear. Mazurco's low growl whispered beside his ear, "Don't give me a second reason to kill you."
Daniel stood there as Mazurco pushed him once more before turning back to Oludaran, who was holding a cloth to his nose, other buddies poised to react.
Daniel turned and climbed into the shuttle as though nothing had happened. His heart was pounding, but he had no idea if that was from fear, exhilaration, or satisfaction.
As Sam seated herself beside him in the grand aircraft, Daniel caught sight of Jack standing off to the side. He had rarely seen his team leader looking so helplessly lost, and that fueled even further his desire to get home and have this adventure over and done with. That was, if he and Sam could ever go home at all. Jack could, and so could Teal'c, and for them at least, he'd do this. Why did every mission so promising have to always turn out so miserably?
As the shuttle took off, with just he and Sam and a whole lot of empty space, Daniel sensed nothing but aloneness. He knew Sam was disguising her helplessness with antagonism, and her antagonism with rationalization, as she turned her belligerent face away from them all. Stifling his own anger, feeling that headache raging within and exhaustion throughout, he reached over to take her hand. Like it or not, they were in this together.
Sam jerked away from his touch, placing her jittery fingers in her lap instead. She kept her focus on the window at her side.
Sighing and closing his eyes, Daniel concentrated on settling his nerves, and began to plan his speech to the Council come morning. Thoughts of his teammates stranded above a mountain range in a hovering shuttle likely to be dropped at any moment kept merging with his fears and adding fuel to his lies. His stomach lurched, even though the vessel was riding smooth as a marble on ivory. He hadn't eaten all day; none of them had, and, until now, he had barely noticed.
Before they arrived at their destination, however, the feel of Sam's hand being placed gently on his own was the only thing that managed to calm his anxiety and make his world feel a tiny bit more comforting.
_____
An hour later they arrived, due to the shuttle travelling at twice the speed of the others they'd so far experienced. Arrinan's home was modest, a small stone and glass structure on the outskirts of a tiny farming village sprinkled with modest homes. It was pretty, compared to those of lower class workers on Earth, but rather small, and there was only the single extra bedroom, as far as they could tell. Arrinan was an aloof woman of few words, who kept eyeing them suspiciously. Upon hearing Izzrek's name she huffed away, guiding Sam and Daniel into the spare room.
The room's walls were stone and glass, not as artistically constructed as buildings in the city, but functional. The floor was black tile. With the oval bed in the center and a series of low drawers by a wall, most of the room was filled. A section in one corner had been set aside as a small sitting area, with three white rubbery armchairs - a poor facsimile of those in the shuttles - and a tiny glass table with some sort of light inserted into its center. On the table was a dish with bread and fruit, already set out. A half door led away into the washing area, which wasn't visible from where they were standing.
"Yeh's may stay her'rah. There've ya got ya touls, and there yeh's got wat'ra in the pint. Yeh'll be gone bya morn come."
The woman shuffled up the three steps and disappeared around the corner into another room, closing the door behind her.
"What?" Sam looked hopefully at Daniel. He was sweating, his eyes drooping.
"Uh, I think the towels are there… and the water's there." Daniel pointed and shrugged. "And there's yeh bed, apparently."
"Which one of us is 'yeh'?" Sam grinned, grabbing a chunk of bread. At least he wasn't totally out of it, and the lure of the bed had slightly lifted her own spirits for a moment.
"That would be you."
"Daniel. You need to be ready to deal with tomorrow. It could be a long day." One she truly wished he wouldn't have to face. "You take the bed." She'd waited this long; she could grudgingly force herself to put up with another couple of hours.
"I'll sleep later. You go first; I'll keep watch. It'll probably be better if I have some sleep closer to morning anyway."
The logic sounded good, so Sam gratefully climbed onto the bed, tucking the gelled pillow under her head. Immediately she felt soothed, calm, and her mind relaxed. Like the light machine, this solution seemed to work instantaneously. But in this state of increased normalcy, she could focus more closely on Daniel, as he sat there forlornly looking out one of the many small windows at the gradually appearing stars above. This house had a covered roof; there was no glass above their heads tonight, no fountain below their feet. Sam found herself longing for the first day they'd arrived at Sovereign Hall, for those moments of wonder and excitement they'd felt, optimism that this would turn out to be a special planet with true potential for dealing with the battles faced by the eager explorers of Earth. Now, Daniel seemed so downcast, so depressed. He looked as though he was going off to war come morning… and maybe in a way he was. None of them knew what to expect, but Daniel was going out there to lie and cheat, to lie for a cheater. That wasn't the man she knew, and it had to be eating at him. Every few moments, a trembling shudder seemed to course through his body.
"Daniel."
When there was no response, she tried again. "Daniel?"
"Hm?"
"We'll take care of you."
He didn't answer, and his focus remained out the window.
"I don't know how, but we will, I promise."
She could discern the slight nod, a silhouette against the window. "I know, Sam. I know you'll do what you can." If Sam's words meant that she'd find a way to kick this addiction he had great faith in her skills. However, like the stargate and DHD, it was alien equipment, and could take months.
"Daniel, as soon as we're sure Arrinan is asleep, let's head back to the shuttle. I'll see if I can find a way to work it from here."
"Why? Even if you can get it going, Sam, what then? Jack and Teal'c are in a hostage situation. Oludaran made it perfectly clear he has no qualms about dropping their shuttle into the mountains."
"If we can get to the gate, we can radio for help."
"We have no GDO. And even if we could contact the base, what good would it do? Oh, right, maybe send a U.A.V. up to the mountains with gum stuck on its belly, adhere it to the shuttle, and guide it back through the gate with Jack and Teal'c inside. All before Oludaran notices his truck's been stolen, and drops the shuttle out of the sky with both of them in it."
Sam turned her face away, then turned over, her back to Daniel. Crestfallen, she hadn't needed such sarcasm. "I was only trying to come up with a plan."
"Well then come up with one that…" Daniel's voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes. He didn't want to fight with her; they were both on the same side, and both sick with fear and worry. Both just… sick, and he knew he'd regret this whole thing later. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean that."
"You're right, it was a stupid plan."
"Which one, mine or yours?"
Sam couldn't hide the smirk as she turned back to face Daniel. This was her friend, and she'd known for years that he would never intentionally hurt her or be cruel; not to her, and not to anyone. She knew the symptoms of withdrawal when she heard them; she and the colonel had enacted their own minor battle out on a beach, snapping at each other for no reason other than chemical illness. The only advice she could give either of them right now was to stop acting like children. "Yours," she grinned.
"I think that's because I need sleep."
"No, you need this damn device. So do I."
"So I guess we'd better use it."
Sam nodded reluctantly. She hated to waste a good escape possibility, but she knew she couldn't fly one of those shuttles, particularly one that was programmed by someone else's remote. And if they just walked away, left this house, where would they run? The stargate was far across the country or state, and Daniel was right; the colonel and Teal'c were still hostages, and she and Daniel were in dire need of a perojin fix. Maybe Daniel was thinking more clearly than she was, after all. "Wake me in three hours, Daniel."
There was no further talk, and while they did not see Arrinan for the rest of the night, there was nothing they could do to take advantage of that.
_____
The last thing Jack felt like doing was exploring; the first thing he felt like doing was pacing. But in case he could find a way to escape, grab Izzrek and force him to take them to his sister's house, grab Daniel and Carter and leave for the stargate with the sister's pillow and bed - well, then he ought to explore. And in case he couldn't do any of those things… then he needed a new plan, and had better explore anyway in order to come up with one.
Explore. Not a great Plan A, but it might be better than spending the night worrying. How to carry out the not-so-great Plan A, well, that was another question altogether; one for which he needed a Plan B.
Oludaran had given them a choice: cooperate and occupy a room in the tower, or kick up a fuss and occupy a shuttle far above the craggy mountains. Exploring would be difficult in a shuttle he couldn't move. That threat, however, was still hovering over their heads.
There was a reason he and Teal'c had been placed in the highest room in this palace, he guessed. Sure, there was a view. But right now he'd rather be in the basement. A room didn't need bars to make it a prison. Luckily, however, there were differing views of cooperation.
"There has to be another way out." The door was guarded… not by people, but a door that led nowhere but steeply down to the cliff below was security enough. It served as the shuttle hatch. A second door hatch was built into the floor. It wasn't actually a door, though; it was more the lid of a single-story elevator, which led straight into the all-glass room below.
The two rooms protruded outwards from the highest part of the tower, scarier than that first night at the Hotel Faux Heaven. The way they'd come in was up, up from the lift below, from the room below them - the only other way out - which was occupied by Oludaran and most of his buddies. Eight of them at least, although new faces came and went; considering the size of that section, there was space for many more. Considering the size of this entire mansion, there were enough rooms for a small army, and it wasn't even completed yet. What Oludaran was up to, Jack had no idea, but his guesses didn't involve anything altruistic.
This room was completely empty, completely unfurnished. Maybe it was just one of those "Bring your own Furniture" theme rooms. Sleep would take place on the hard glass floor tonight, this one thankfully without the disconcerting elasticity of the hotel room's base, with seven or eight kidnappers keeping an eye on them from below. Besides a heck of a lot of glass, all Teal'c and Jack had in here was a pile of thermal rubber blankets, thin as pizza crusts and as warm as Hammond's heated driver's seat in a Colorado winter.
Did there have to be another way out? "There is not."
Unless they could fly, or had a shuttle parked out front - which neither of them knew how to operate yet anyway - even Teal'c had no escape plan.
"We could join the party. Catch them off-guard - "
"O'Neill. Do you believe we would be able to catch all eight of those men off-guard?"
Jack peered down; through the glass floor everything was visible. All he had to do was wave, and the men would see him. All they had to do was look up. If Jack pressed his nose to the floor he could make some pretty ugly faces at them… yeah, maybe later. "How about we ask for a private room next time?"
The men downstairs didn't seem to be heading for bed any time soon, and even if they did, Jack was pretty sure Oludaran would send replacements. Their stun weapons had proven worse than zats; the effects lasted much longer and left the victim awake and conscious. They'd been informed that an extended stream would also kill, but they'd been told no one liked to use that much. No, Jack thought, shuttle accidents are so much easier to cover up. "We can't just leave Daniel to the wolves."
"The people of this planet may not turn out to be wolves."
"And to what extent do you believe that?"
Teal'c had seen the angry mob down in the hotel lobby. He'd seen the aggression of the people out on the streets. He had witnessed Daniel Jackson's tempers and arrogance the two times previously that he'd been addicted to alien equipment, and he'd seen the encroaching negative effects of this perojin on his two normally even-tempered, energetic, compassionate teammates. "None."
"Right. Thanks for the pep talk. I think I can sleep now."
_____
Now that she was feeling a heck of a lot better, Sam could start to put things into perspective. So far, she and Daniel were safe. She had to assume that the colonel and Teal'c were fine as well, although after a night in a cramped capsule the colonel's mood wouldn't be a welcome beacon for Oludaran. She knew he wouldn't do or say anything to put any of his team at further risk, though.
Wistfully, she watched Daniel sleeping so peacefully; in a very short while they'd be expected to get back into that shuttle and head into the unknown land of alien law enforcement. At least he wasn't alone; she'd be at his side for as long as possible, lending support, but she'd had a lot of time the past couple of hours to ponder the colonel's warnings about lynch mobs, and she couldn't deny she was scared. Oludaran had seemed intentionally vague about those authorities. The title could refer to anyone from prison ward guards to president of the country. What sort of judicial treatment lay in place for a person who not only misled people in regards to a pseudo-sacred site, or tried to defame the one person who'd gained a place in the hearts of the populace, but whose supposed deception led to the accidental deaths of others? She couldn't help wondering if Oludaran knew exactly what the outcome of this was going to be, three steps ahead of the game, and had no intention of releasing the colonel or Teal'c. She'd have to stay alert today, physically and emotionally stable enough to keep alive the potential for a real plan. Too bad that pillow couldn't work without the bed.
A small commotion outside broke the deceptively peaceful monotony, and Sam peered out one of the windows, watching tensely as a shuttle stopped to hover by the larger one already parked out there. This new arrival looked like the same sized craft in which they had been abducted from their hotel room, and in its seats were three of Oludaran's men. One was Mazurco, and Sam's chest tightened. Would they be coming along into town, as security? Oludaran wasn't present to stop Mazurco from getting back at Daniel; hopefully he'd given the man a strict warning. Still, what was to stop Mazurco from taking revenge on the way back from the authorities? She continued to watch as only Izzrek disembarked.
"Daniel." Carter bolted over to the bed, wondering why she was speaking so quietly when she wanted Daniel to wake up. "Daniel." A bit louder, this time. She shook him, and he slowly opened his eyes, the day's threatening agenda coming to full attention in his mind.
Daniel groaned. "I'd feel good if I didn't expect to feel so lousy."
"Right, me too. Look," she nodded towards the windows, and up the path he saw Izzrek approaching, the second shuttle hovering beside the first. A knock on the door upstairs was followed by Arrinan padding into the upper room in those soft-soled shoes of hers. Shoes that matched her temperament.
As Izzrek entered the house, they heard a few words exchanged between him and his sister, and Daniel jumped out of bed. A moment later footsteps approached their room, and then Izzrek was standing there, right outside their closed glass door. Observing them for a moment, without knocking or acknowledging their privacy, he slid the door open.
"Daniel will take the shuttle I have just arrived in; the route has been activated. As you need the bed," he indicated to Sam, "it has been decided that you will remain here until we come to get you. I shall wait here until Daniel leaves."
That wasn't her plan, and Sam felt the rise of hostility and fear. Daniel would be alone with those two men? With Mazurco? "I'm going with Daniel."
Izzrek's casual glance manifested irritation. "That is not an option, and I'm not here to debate." He turned and walked up the three steps, leaving Sam and Daniel's minimal traces of optimism fading away. They watched in silence through the doorway as Izzrek made himself comfortable in the sitting room, waiting. His sister was nowhere in sight.
"He could have said that over the comm device. He didn't need to come all the way over." Daniel stared out the window at the shuttles, dread of the approaching day already sinking like wet clay in the pit of his stomach. What lay ahead he could only hope would go better than the scenarios tugging at his mind. The trouble was, too much lay in trusting Oludaran to get him out of this.
"Maybe he had to come talk his sister into letting me stay another night." Wouldn't Daniel be needing the bed too, though, if it came to that? Why just her? And why wouldn't they just be released, after Daniel had done his part? Sam's thoughts were uncomfortable and foreboding. "You might need to sleep here too, tonight…"
"I think he just didn't trust us both with the Cadillac, Sam." Could that mean there was a way to control that shuttle, without the remote?
"Daniel… I'll find a way to come with you." They had to convince Izzrek to let her go, a deal of some sort. But what better deal could she possibly offer than Oludaran had already bestowed upon the man? She doubted he would betray his boss, the one with the palace on a mountaintop and an entire city at his disposal.
"No, Sam, he's right. You do need to stay here. I can do this alone."
"I'm afraid of what might happen."
"There's nothing you'd be able to do anyway. And Oludaran might not take kindly to both of us being in the public eye." Daniel bowed his head for a moment, scrutinizing the floor, getting up the nerve to leave, when the truth hit him. "Izzrek came to make sure you don't go with me."
"What, I'm a hostage here? You're alone in the middle of some wrathful convention, and Teal'c and the colonel are stranded in a shuttle hovering precariously up in the sky. Oludaran's doing his damnedest to keep us apart."
"That's what has me worried most, Sam. We don't know what he's up to."
"You think he's planning something else?"
Daniel shrugged. He really didn't want to voice his fears, even knowing that Sam had some of her own. Something was troubling him about Arrinan's speech; it sounded as though it might be coming from a person fusing an ancient dialect of Goa'uld with partly modern English. He hadn't heard it in the speech of Samiran or Ho Paridu, or anyone else in the city. Perhaps she was one of the more direct descendants of those Goa'uld slaves; then, why didn't Izzrek speak the same way? Was she a more recent immigrant to this land, with Izzrek paying her way from Oludaran's riches? Was she keeping some secret for him, in exchange? And who was it who normally used this bed?
Likewise, Sam didn't want to put more worry on Daniel's shoulders by expressing her own misgivings. "The colonel will come up with a plan, if Oludaran doesn't come through."
Daniel sighed. "I'd better go. No sense delaying this any longer." He turned, pausing in the doorway. "I'll do this and maybe we will be able to go home today," he said, his back to the room and Sam.
"Daniel."
Daniel took a deep breath before turning to face his friend. The worry Sam exuded trapped her in his eyes for a moment, and he couldn't move.
"Good luck."
He nodded ruefully. "Yeah. You too."
"Daniel, hang on." A moment later, Sam slipped a couple of hard fruits into his pocket.
"Right. Thanks." Without looking up at Izzrek or back at Sam, Daniel exited the room and the house and climbed into the recently arrived craft, the two menacing men seated directly behind him.
Sam watched apprehensively as words were exchanged between Oludaran's men and Daniel, her hands clamped to the stone wall below the window, her face as close to the glass as she could get without touching the cool pane. From this distance she could make out neither words nor facial expressions.
Daniel sat in front of the men, in the seat they'd indicated near one end of the door panel, his heart thumping, feeling the odd but increasingly familiar sensation of seat edges curling loosely around his limbs for protection. At this moment, however, they felt more like unwanted restraints. For two or three long minutes there was silence; the tense seconds dragged slowly. Daniel didn't turn around, waiting with his lips pressed tight, waiting for someone else to speak, or for the shuttle to start moving.
His heart jumped when a hand pressed down tightly on his shoulder, leaning hard. Another hand clamped loosely, warmly, around his throat.
More seconds ticked past, and the hands tightened marginally. Then the voice of Mazurco was whispering closely into his ear; Daniel could feel the warm puff of his breath. "I have orders. But know this: I don't like you, I don't like your friends. Don't give me another reason to defend my cousin Oludaran." The pressures remained for several more seconds. Daniel swallowed but stayed motionless, knowing there was nothing he could do. Then the grasps were released, and the two men descended from the other end of the open panel. Crossing in front of the aircraft and shooting Daniel a long menacing look, they switched shuttles, crawling headfirst into the larger one and making themselves comfortable as the long panel beside Daniel slid closed.
Immediately his shuttle began to move. Daniel leaned back, breathing deeply and trying to calm himself. He couldn't shake the feeling that his fate was so far out of his hands it would take more than his teammates' determination to reclaim it.
CHAPTER 12
A two-hour's journey in this module was not enough time for Daniel to curb his anxiety, but when the farm lands faded away he did try to keep his focus on where he was going, if there was any point. Unless he gained control of a remote and locked out Oludaran and his men… or stole another shuttle with a remote, whatever those looked like… he'd be unable to get back to Sam anyway. Daniel realized curiously that he'd never even seen one of those remote devices, only a base station. Did it fit in a pocket? Or on the arm, like a GDO? Sam would figure it out. She'd come up with a plan, Daniel told himself, feeling marginally comforted.
The city spread out below him, its tinted crystalline buildings sculpted into the shapes of flower gardens; pools with fountains dotted the ground and people scurried about their business. Still the odd fight was breaking out, but Daniel knew the reason for that, now, and he no longer wanted to look. Up here, the solitary occupant of a large glass jar speeding gently across the lower sky of an alien planet, he suddenly felt insignificant and terribly, terribly, alone.
The shuttle pulled up outside a solemn-looking building; glass-crystal like the hotel, but more demure and formal, with its marble bricks interfacing with the stromachite, its large stone sculptures in the outer fountain seeming to point up at him, point him out conspicuously to the masses and authorities alike. The shuttle did not just pull into a parking zone, however; it hovered directly outside a sixth-floor window, making Daniel's nerves bounce around far too much to be healthy. If his heartbeat got any more unruly he might just unbalance and topple this thing.
A huge hatch lowered from the window like a drawbridge, extending a platform, and the shuttle glided over it. Then the shuttle's own panel slid open.
As Daniel disembarked cautiously onto the extended platform, open six storeys to the ground below, he met the gaze of three men standing a few feet inside the room, their expressions questioning. At a circular counter, hollowed out in the middle like a donut, three men remained seated in armchairs. All were staring at him, faces calm but curious. This wasn't too unusual a way to enter their chamber, apparently.
The nearest man spoke. His wide flowing suit was of a lime green color, long upper jacket ending just above the knees. "You are the one who has claimed to be able to read the Stones."
Of course; they'd seen his face on the broadcasts. "Yes, um, that's why I'm here." Daniel's pulse jumped, as he remembered exactly why he'd come. "My name's Daniel Jackson." He paused, then asked, "And you are…?"
"We are of the Assembled. Members of the People's Council."
"Right." Okay.
"You have concluded all the translations?"
Daniel swallowed. The room was too still; became Stillness itself, all the silence and solemnity of the universe bundled into a massive ball of Master Stillness. He could feel time slowing, pulling each cell of his skin outward in its eagerness to gain back its independence, only hands of a clock giving it the right of way. He could feel his watch keeping time, for time hadn't really stopped and these men were waiting for an answer. A positive answer, one which he could almost give them but didn't dare, for the lives of some close friends were at stake. Not that he trusted Oludaran to let them go when he was through here, but they were depending on him and he didn't have a lot of choices.
"No. I'm sorry, I…" Daniel had to pause; he tried not to stop, tried to continue. He'd gone over and over what he would say, but now the words just stuck in his throat.
The men continued to wait expectantly, expressions turning suspicious. Lime Green spoke. Was that 'A-L' embroidered on his shoulder a name tag, a designation? "There will not be a palace built for you. Oludaran's is taking much of our resources that were meant for other spending."
Daniel breathed in sharply, understanding the insinuation. He could put an end to that particular expense, had he been allowed. If only they knew the real deal he'd like to make, and it was nothing that would cost them money. "I can't translate the rest of the Stones."
The Assembled's heads perked up sharply. There was blatant disappointment, annoyance, suspicion, but Daniel didn't see anger hidden in those expressions. Not yet, but he wasn't done.
"We have given you free accommodation."
"I know. And…" Oh damn it. They still thought he was fishing for compensation. "I've deceived you. The writing isn't as familiar to me as I'd thought; I've deciphered it incorrectly."
Two of the seated men now rose and marched over. Pale Green spoke; on his shoulder was an embroidered 'M-G'. "What exactly are you saying? There is no treasure below the lake?"
"No,... there is no treasure below the lake, as far as I know." There, it was out, and not a total lie. Whatever happened next was out of his hands.
_____
He'd experienced anger before, and while it mostly hurt when witnessed in the eyes of those he respected - such as Jack - he could feel the enormity of what he'd just done run through him like fingers up his spine. The looks on their speechless faces, accusations of falsely scheming for hotel accommodation and publicity, all worked to usher in the humiliation as though he really had plotted to defraud an entire populace. The crisp orders to security, the dark frosted shuttle in which they'd ushered him away, his own pleading reassurances that they needn't restrain him - reassurances that had been overruled - melted into a quick-moving blur of time.
His holding cell - or that was how Daniel was thinking of it, anyway - was a long glass cubicle, in another semi-highrise, containing a narrow bed. That was all; no space for anything other than to walk around the bed and back again. At least his leg restraints had been removed. This block consisted of several such cells; twenty on each floor of this building would be his guess, judging from the view from outside and the number of connecting doors in the circular lavatory. Cells protruded from the main structure like thin petals of a daisy, but unlike the hotel room, these walls were frosted and far too thick to see through. Occupants of adjoining cells remained a mystery, if there were any at all. In the center of the circular block, and accessed by a thick door just beyond the foot of his bed, was the communal washroom; when in use, all the other cell doors locked, making it accessible to only one person at a time. The shuttle entry pod connected the room to exterior space by a drawbridge two feet beyond the head of the bed.
Claustrophobia was a definite risk here, but as there was a bed, this seemed likely to be an indefinite stay. The only good thing - relatively speaking - was that it was a magnio bed with a perojin pillow; Daniel wondered if the authorities realized that the prisoners were much more likely to be manageable if not in the midst of withdrawal. So, was this the reason Izzrek had known Daniel wouldn't be needing the hospitality of his sister tonight?
Speaking of which, Daniel was already feeling an exhaustion and depression that might not be solely due to the stresses of the situation, although differentiating the causes completely was an impossibility. While lying down was about all one could reasonably do in this tiny cavity, he knew he ought to recharge himself in case he needed to face the media, or worse, some time that day.
They'd already offered him food and drink; it was still sitting on the floor by the shuttle hatch, just out of reach of the high rubbery bed. Room service here came by air; that was an experience to tell his grandkids. Or… Jack, anyway. There might eventually be a good joke in there somewhere.
CHAPTER 13
Jack was pacing. He'd finished cursing… actually, no, he hadn't. But he was pacing, and cursing, and debating the productivity of shooting some holes through this floor into the people down below, had he still had his weapon. One could dream, which was about all there was to do in here. But the crystal-glass-stromachite was probably bullet-proof anyway; Oludaran could never know just when someone who hadn't slept might take a personal dislike to him.
His long sleepless night thinking about Daniel had just been upgraded to concern for Carter as well, upon finding out she wasn't coming back for a while. Likely until this mess was over; the reasoning that she needed the bed was a valid one, yet Jack was pretty sure that splitting up his team was more Ollie's motivation. The motivation for sending Mazurco after Daniel, though, was plaguing him even more.
The fitted hatch in the center of the glass floor slid aside as the tubular lift rose from below, depositing Oludaran and three of his men into the room. Jack couldn't resist the sensation of satisfaction at the swelling and bruise on Ollie's face.
"Come with us." Oludaran motioned towards the elevator.
"Where?" Jack studied the four of them suspiciously. Getting out of here was a good idea, a very good idea, but he didn't want to find himself in a death shuttle. Maybe Ollie suspected Daniel really would rat on him. Or… maybe Daniel already had. It was already mid-afternoon; something must have happened by now.
"Daniel is speaking."
"He's contacting us?" With a comm ball? Jack's spirits rose marginally. Could be good news, could be bad. Don't count ones' chickens, and all that, was a good rule to live by. Optimism had its place, but some -
"No, he's on the public broadcast system." The men waited, expecting the two members of SG-1 to head into the short cylinder that was part of the regular transport network throughout the mansion. This small segment of glass tube operated on a pole and joined this room to the one below. Without it, there would have been no way into their room the previous day, other than by shuttle outside the window.
"He's on the news?" Jack quickly strode to the semi-enclosed cylindrical platform, Teal'c following. Oludaran and his men were the last in, as the transport took them down. A large, slightly flattened communications globe - likely similar to the massive ones that looked from a distance like scoreboards - at the far end of the chamber was showing a huge mass of 3D people. The angle skirted across the crowd to a podium and five seats onstage, in the center of which sat Daniel, looking scared and miserable. Jack's breath caught, and without taking his eyes off the image, he slid down onto one of the white contoured benches, the standard in hotels and fancy palaces, it seemed. He was too preoccupied to notice Teal'c stiffening, all important senses alert.
_____
Daniel kept his eyes on his feet; anywhere else and he couldn't avoid witnessing the huge crowd that was assembling in the theatre. He was aware they'd all come to see him; the local public grapevine - their version of the news, plastered on moving billboards all over the parks and public areas, audible with personal receivers attached to the head - had announced his deception to public outcry, and now came the open hearing. What that meant he wasn't sure; no one had bothered with him enough to answer his questions. They'd shuttled him out sometime in the afternoon, before he'd been able to relax enough to sleep. Even with the soothing effects of the perojin, his mind had kept forcing him awake. Now, Daniel was wondering if he shouldn't have tried harder. His nerves were competing with his stomach for the distinction of most aggravating and distracting body part.
Lying to six formidable men was hard enough; lying to an entire population was… inconceivable. Just his luck to meet up with a supposedly democratic society. He knew they'd understand, if he could take the risk of telling the truth. But all it took was a quick flip of some button, and his friends would be gone. No one would be able to find any evidence connecting them with Oludaran; it would be his word against those of all of Oludaran's men. They were the perfect crime family.
Suddenly the crowd hushed, and A-L dressed in green said, "Begin."
Daniel looked up; the man was speaking to him. No introduction? No, of course not. Everyone knew who he was and why he was there.
Finally daring to look into the audience, Daniel realized the crowd had stopped surging in; the upper doors were shut. There must have been a thousand people out there. No sign, as far as he could tell, of security guards.
Daniel closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and swallowed.
_____
Onstage, Daniel's 3D face in the huge flattened globe hanging from the ceiling was distraught, almost panic-stricken. The scholar had spoken in front of large crowds before; he could always hold his own in logic and debate, passionately upholding whatever he believed in. Now, however, Jack knew why Daniel was avoiding eye contact with the audience; how could he face them in the middle of a lie? Would he even be able to keep up the act? Yes, of course, Jack chided himself. For the potential freedom of his teammates. Jack looked closely for signs that Daniel had slept with the perojin; he hated to admit that he didn't trust what Daniel might say, if he was in the midst of a withdrawal attack.
Oludaran obviously had an open surround-sound receiver to go with the surround-view. Automatic audio? Or a device brought in from another planet, such as the one Maybourne had used? Either way, Daniel's voice rang out loud and clear.
"I was mistaken. The words on the Stones don't speak of a treasure." That much was true; Daniel had never called it a treasure in the first place. But, they didn't speak of a palace on a mountain, either. To that end he kept quiet.
His words were translated into Goa'uld by an electronic audio system, for those in the audience who did not understand English.
Judging by Oludaran's expression, Jack assumed things were going just the way he'd planned. The smug look was in fashion in this room.
_____
"What do they say?" M-W was asking. Man in yellow. Were they color-coded for reason of rank, or for lack of other personal identity? Daniel caught his mind wandering.
"They…" Daniel stopped. Oludaran wanted to be the sole person who could read the writing. He wanted to be the one with the palace. Maybe he wanted to be the one with the kingdom to rule over. In any case, he was the one with the rest of SG-1 at his disposal. "I don't know."
"You don't know. You mean you can't read them at all?"
"No."
The din of the crowd drowned out the next question; shouts from the audience could be heard, a few voices overlapping, the loudest among them gaining attention and power.
"… died in that search!"
"… shuttle went down and he drowned with my young son. Curses be upon you!"
"… trying to deceive us for what gain?"
The accusations continued until A-L silenced the crowd. "You will have your turns for questions and speech," he advised them, and the part of Daniel's brain that could concentrate enough to listen wondered what part of the hearing that would be. For the most part, Daniel was far too agitated to pay attention; whatever they were asking would never matter. They could make up their own answers, and those would be just as good as his own. Hell, why didn't they just make them all up together and save some time?
Then he remembered Jack, and Teal'c, and Sam, and knew he could keep on lying. He wondered if his team was seeing this, watching him partner up with the devil. Those red flashing cylinders along all the walls could well be cameras of some sort. I'm okay Jack, he mouthed, hoping to put his friends' minds at ease. Would they have seen? Noticed? No doubt Oludaran would be watching, but Jack and Teal'c might still be up there hovering in a shuttle. They might have access to one of those small globes, though. What a new meaning for global communications.
As for Sam, well, Daniel doubted that Arrinan was offering her that much hospitality.
_____
'I'm okay Jack.' Jack jumped, his attention peaking. "Teal'c?" He whispered so Oludaran's men wouldn't hear. "Did you see that?" he hoped he hadn't imagined it.
"Indeed," Teal'c whispered in reply, and Jack found himself more on edge than before. God, he wished he could mouth something back.
Or mouth off to Oludaran without putting the rest of his team in further danger. He still needed Ollie to gallop to Daniel's rescue. Any time now would be good.
At least Daniel was aware his team was watching him… or was he just guessing, hoping? No, he couldn't possibly know. He was thinking of them, through all that, anyway, and that meant Daniel was concentrating less on the situation at hand than on putting his teammates' minds at ease. Which also meant that Daniel could be lying to him too… that he wasn't necessarily well at all. Or had he just meant that he wasn't experiencing withdrawal yet? Had he slept with a gel pillow? Jack had grasped at the mouthed words, but were they to be taken at face value?
There was no way to concoct a plan. This unfamiliar territory was as secure as Fort Knox, regardless of its spectacular palatial state with its spectacular palatial view. Oludaran might think he wanted to live here, but it wouldn't be Jack's first or tenth choice of a home.
His focus returned to Daniel, his mind pacing internally. The archeologist was as uncomfortable as discomfort could get, fidgety with his hands and his eyes, and most likely in that brain of his. Daniel was not a good liar at the best of times, which meant that if these people were buying his pathetic admission of guilt, they'd already condemned him.
_____
"Are you afraid of him?" Sam put forth the question, knowing she was probably being way too forward. Arrinan projected the aura of suspicion and unease, but Sam was sure there were deeper feelings hiding within. The woman didn't have much, but the breakfast she'd offered was more than Sam had expected. Now she was coming to believe Arrinan was mostly lonely. Her odd accent or command of English was either a trait common to this farming community, or she herself was not from around here. That again made Sam question the origins of Oludaran and his circle of friends.
"Izzrek?" the woman gave a scornful laugh. "En why'd I'ya be't afraid?"
"I don't know. You didn't seem comfortable around him, not that I saw too much interaction between the two of you." That was part of the problem. Why was Arrinan here, when Izzrek was living in a palace? Why didn't she speak English as well as he did? Was he born on Luok'shuo? If so, why didn't he need perojin treatments? Maybe Arrinan didn't either; the bed might be for guests only. Sam decided to have a look at Arrinan's sleeping quarters if she had a chance.
"How dro yeh come by a'known'a hem?"
"I'm sorry… what? Oh, how did I come to know him?" Sam thought better of her response, and kept her lips in a thin line. But what could she lose? Oludaran had told Daniel to lie, not her. She wouldn't be breaking a deal, would she? And if she really was a hostage, and Arrinan was in on the whole thing, what would it matter?
"He's keeping two of my friends hostage in the palace. I think I'm hostage here, as well." Sam studied the woman closely, expecting a reaction that might prove her correct. Or wrong. But the countenance of the older woman remained impossible to read; if anything, she seemed only annoyed. Sam wasn't sure if she had just made things worse by confiding. "Oludaran really can't read the words on the Stones, but my friend Daniel can." Why not put her foot in it further; she'd already taken a big chance with this woman. If Arrinan didn't seem to have the best relationship with her brother, if Sam could plant the seeds of suspicion, it was at least a start. She needed an ally - and she needed a shuttle; although she doubted that Arrinan had one of her own, she might know where to borrow one. All in all, Sam really didn't know how she could make things much worse.
_____
They were reconvening. Daniel understood, now, this next step; this was where the crowd got to decide his fate.
The theatre was divided into sections, each representing one particular voting choice. Each subsection had five rows, each row had ten seats. Easy to count, as people were guided to fill the rows front to back by returning to the section representing their own personal decision. Section one was for those in favor of Daniel Jackson being banished to the Outer Vicinity for the immoral act of public deceit and mischief; of cheating the state out of accommodation for himself and his entourage, wherever they may be cowardly hiding out; and for trying to tarnish the name of new sage and scholar Oludaran. Section two represented those in favor of a second hearing to address Daniel Jackson's indirect responsibility regarding the deaths of twenty-seven men and women - and two children - in their ill-fated search for treasure. Section three - added on a plea by Daniel himself, and allowed, much to his surprise - was for those in favor of allowing Daniel Jackson to return to his own homeworld through the chappa'ai.
Daniel's breathing was deep and slow as he watched the city folk enter. He hoped they'd all had a good night's sleep, at any rate; this was proving to be a trying - and tiring - day. Mostly for him, though, he was quick to admit; he couldn't help feeling some people were just there for the show. He never noticed how tightly he was holding onto the sides of his rubbery chair, or how taut his facial muscles were. He didn't realize the stiffness in his back; the tension was overshadowed by the sight of two sections filling up far faster than the third. With a sinking heart, confirming what he'd already known deep down, Daniel could plainly see that only a handful of people thought he should be allowed to return home.
The crowds coming through the doorways began to thin, then trickle, and less than fifteen minutes since the reconvening had begun, the doors were tightly secured and the count easily taken.
Those in favor of permanent banishment, seven full subsections plus three rows, four seats, for a total of 384. Those in favor of a second hearing: eight subsections plus two rows, two seats, for a total of 422. Those in favor of Daniel Jackson returning home: four rows plus six seats; 46 voters in all.
Daniel bit down on his lower lip and stared at the floor, his eyes stinging, hands twitching, listening to none of the closing statements. He tried, but his mind was wandering. Wasn't this where Oludaran was supposed to intervene?
CHAPTER 14
Recharging. That was how he thought of it, and that was all there was to do here. Daniel lay down on the bed, wondering 'what now?'. He'd done what Oludaran had asked of him. No, ordered, not asked. Threatened, to be exact. As of this moment, the future was unwritten, unanticipated. Up in the air, just like this cell with no way out other than by falling straight to the ground nine storeys below. It wasn't as though that thought hadn't occurred to him, but he was pretty sure Jack wouldn't care for that idea and it was the perojin need talking anyway.
He had not been back in the cell for long when the panel in the rear wall opened, the landing platform again sliding down like a drawbridge to allow the two-person dupa, smallest shuttle Daniel had so far seen, just bigger than a helicopter, to hover and park. Commissioner Broerderen, according to his shoulder name tag, was finding his way into the compartment, followed by A-L in green.
"We must ask you this," Broerderen began, gazing down at an agitated Daniel who was easing himself into a sitting position on the bed. With the addition of those two extra bodies in this place, there was nowhere to move or stand, except on the opposite side of the bed, nearly against the wall. "Where did you get the shuttle in which you arrived at the consulate? It is not from your hotel."
Daniel paused. He hadn't been expecting a question such as that. How much could he say? "No, it isn't."
"It belongs to the state."
Whatever that meant. Government issue? "Okay."
"So you must have stolen it."
"What? Why would I come to turn myself in, in a stolen vehicle?" Daniel was flabbergasted at the accusation.
"Then where did you acquire it?"
Right. The question had been a trap; they knew he had to be in contact with someone from this planet… who had a state vehicle. Daniel sighed; what the hell. Oludaran had forced him to lie about the Stones, but he hadn't mentioned a word about his shuttle. "It was given to me by Oludaran."
That was not what they'd been expecting. Eyebrows lifted, eyes twitched. "Oludaran?"
Daniel hoped he had not just sealed the death papers for his friends. He nodded reluctantly.
"Why would Oludaran give you his vehicle?"
"Because I promised to admit my lies." Or create them. "To clear his name." They couldn't force him to say more.
"I see." Broerderen turned, whispering something to A-L, who reached into the shuttle hovering on the open landing pad and pulled out a deep green communications globe. Attaching a green receiver to his face, Broerderen took it and dialed six numbers.
The globe cleared, showing Oludaran's face. "What can I do for you, Commissioner Broerderen?"
Oh. Daniel grasped the essence of the mouthed words, catching the name if nothing else, and gasped reflexively. So those two knew each other. This might go well, or badly. Would this be where Oludaran helped him out? Or where Oludaran got really pissed off, and decided to drop his friends onto a cliff face in a glass motor home? Daniel stared at the ball, trying to read lips.
"Oludaran, this man Daniel Jackson says you let him use one of your shuttles."
"I did no such thing."
Daniel recognized the frown, the shake of the head, the lip formation indicating the word 'no'. "He's lying!" he snapped sharply, panic escalating.
"You did not allow him use of your provided state shuttle in which to come and confess his crimes?"
"I do not know the man, other than the slander from the news reports," Broerderen heard Oludaran say. "I must admit I'm relieved to hear the admission of his lies. A man such as Daniel Jackson is a nuisance to society."
"Thank you, I'm sorry to have bothered you. How goes the construction of your palace?"
"Excellently, Commissioner. It will soon be completed. You must come see it when it is done. Bring your family."
"I most certainly will. So you will soon get back to the reading of the Stones?"
"Absolutely."
"Excellent. We shall be in touch."
The commissioner removed the metallic plate, and the screen went dark. "You have some explaining to do, Daniel Jackson."
More? Closing his eyes, Daniel let his overwhelmed mind go blank, his head drooping and stomach rebelling. He could tell the truth and hope, with much difficulty, to be believed, but right about now Oludaran was likely paying close attention to every move he made, every word he uttered. Daniel reminded himself that all he'd promised to do was lie about being able to read the Stones, nothing else. Oludaran still remained unchallenged in that department. "He was lying. It was his shuttle."
"Then perhaps it was stolen?" The two men watched as Daniel's expression turned to hopelessness, defeat. "But that discussion will come later. As you'll have to answer to the people very soon, I suggest you prepare yourself."
"Wait." Daniel couldn't let it go at that. He wouldn't be charged with theft of government property. "How could I steal it when Oludaran controls the remote? It was he who wanted me to come and admit my falsehoods to you so that his name would be cleared."
For a moment the men stared at Daniel, two faces registering incomprehension. Then A-L spoke. "What remote would that be?"
Daniel was taken aback. "The hotel shuttle and Oludaran's were controlled by remote. Not by me."
The commissioner stuck his upper body into the little shuttle, the dupa, and leaned far over. Knowing Daniel could see very clearly through the glass and was watching his every move, he pressed the back of the passenger seat downwards as a click was heard, and the seat base popped up a few inches off the floor. Pushing against the back of the seat, the entire base and backrest fell forward, resting flat and parallel to the floor, exposing a panel with a large grid consisting of hundreds of small squares, criss-crossing in rows and columns of thin slits. Along the top and one side miniscule knobbed levers were inserted, and in the grid itself, like points on a map, were several more of the little movable buttons. Beside the grid was what looked like a list of landmarks - and their coordinates. "It is easy enough to program the route of a shuttle," the man said with a quick press of a blue glowing button which turned immediately to yellow, then another press switched it back to blue, some sort of locking mode. "As long as one knows where he wants to go." After a pause long enough only to make certain Daniel had comprehended his own blunder, Broerderen returned the seat to its original position, hearing it click back into place.
As Daniel stared in shock, heaviness sinking sickeningly into the depths of his stomach, lips parted and face pale from more than exhaustion, Broerderen shook his head and climbed into the dupa, followed by A-L.
Daniel could only watch, speechless, as the dupa closed its doors and took off, his wall panel rising and shutting too quickly for him to consider dashing through to the depths below, leaving nothing more than sleeping room for the imprisoned archeologist.
Or pacing room; no matter how tired, sleep was not on his agenda right away. Daniel had found his route; along the edge of the bed, around the end, up the other side, turn around and back again.
_____
"What the hell was that?" Irate was not the word Jack would have used right now; irate was a cool breeze over a rose garden, compared to what he was feeling. "You were supposed to get him out of there!" He'd been about to step back into the lift, guided by two of Oludaran's men, when the huge comm panel had activated. He'd stopped, alongside Teal'c, right there, one foot in and one foot out. Now he was fully out.
"I could not very well say that I had given Daniel the shuttle; they might think we were partners. I can't have them suspecting I might be in on his prank about a treasure among the Stones now, can I?"
"You gave your word that you would assist in his release." Teal'c was barely concealing his own rage. The tendons in his face were pulsing.
"Yes. I just did not say when."
"You…!" Jack's growl was low, intimidating, and his hands were tightly fisted, more to redirect his fury than to engage in a fight. He wasn't stupid; he and Teal'c were surrounded and helpless.
"O'Neill." Teal'c's strong hand grasped Jack's sleeve, halting his leader's forward motion.
Jack ignored the warning in Teal'c's voice. He wasn't in the mood to be talked out of a personal verbal vendetta. Still, the biting tone of his accusation was in sharp contrast to his quiet voice. "You never intended to help Daniel. Big surprise there, you manipulative conniving son of a bitch."
"Well, it would have been easier had the populace not begun drowning each other." Oludaran shrugged. "Now they want justice."
"It's not Daniel's fault." The voice was nearly a hiss, but threateningly sharp.
"They need a scapegoat. And I assure you, it will not be me."
"So you'll let them hang him?"
Oludaran shrugged. "We'll see."
"Hey!" Jack knew, now, that Oludaran was not naïve enough to believe that if anything happened to Daniel, the rest of SG-1 would keep quiet. Therefore Oludaran would never let the rest of SG-1 go. "You can't do that!"
But it seemed Oludaran was enjoying the display of tempers. "Hmm, I most certainly can. Yet, I may not. There's something I want down in those waters and Daniel is the only one who can get it for me."
"What?" Jack tried to process what he'd just heard. "There's no treasure down there."
Oludaran eyed Jack suspiciously. "How can you know that?"
"Look, how can you go searching for it if you don't want people to know Daniel's translation was right and yours wrong?"
Oludaran chuckled. "I have no intention of having anyone find out."
"What the hell are you planning? Who are you, anyway? What world are you from and why don't you need a perojin fix? You know about it, but you don't use it - "
"O'Neill."
"My guess is you're some sort of bounty hunter serving the Goa'uld in your own interests, and now you've found a better way to make yourself rich. And this planet's Goa'uld-free, so they won't know you're here… although making a spectacle of yourself won't keep you inconspicuous if they show up again. So you don't really want anyone to know the location of this palace until all the security is in place. Tell me, am I warm?"
"O'Neill!"
"Get in the shaft. Another word and you'll find yourselves incapacitated in the shuttle instead of safe in your room." One weapon and then four were pointing at them.
Jack chose to stop talking. He'd made his point. He could always find himself incapacitated in the shuttle later, if he changed his mind.
_____
Escorting them back up the single flight to the always-visible room above, Mazurco exited the transparent elevator shaft with the two members of SG-1 as another of Oludaran's men remained in the tube, waiting for Mazurco to rejoin him for the short journey back down.
Jack's skin prickled; this time he sensed Teal'c's agitation. Turning around to see what the men were up to, he didn't have time to see it coming, didn't anticipate the fist connecting heavily with his face.
"Shi-!" Jack was thrown backward into Teal'c's supporting grip, his hands covering his eyes, trying to ease the searing pain. As Teal'c and Mazurco glared at each other, Jack rubbed his throbbing, sharply stinging cheek and nose, blood dripping over his lips and chin.
"Wha' was tha' for?" he groaned out, certain he'd likely been too close to the mark with Oludaran.
"Not what. Who. Who was it for," Mazurco growled a correction, retreating into the elevator. "That was for your friend Daniel. But he's not here, so you'll have to do." The shaft descended, the cover closing back over the aperture.
Jack stared after the men through watering eyes, his hand grasping his nose. "Crap," he mumbled, trying to breathe.
"O'Neill. Will you be all right?"
"No choice. Have to be." Jack sat on the floor, head lowered.
Handing him a disposable wet cloth from the ensuite washing tubes, Teal'c observed his injured teammate, despising his next words. He would now add to the man's misery by explaining the source of his earlier and ongoing discomfort, a disclosure that he had not wanted to reveal in the presence of the other men. "O'Neill, I sensed a symbiote."
"Wha'?" Jack's head whipped up, his face throbbing under the sudden pressure. "Mazurco's a Goa'uld? How come you just noticed this?"
Sam had borrowed an eating utensil, or rather, neglected to return it with her dish, and now she lay on the bed about to attempt the rescue of her own sanity. Whether or not this would work she had no idea, but it was worth the try. What worried her most was that it might not only release some toxic substance into the air, but that if her theory failed she'd be in worse trouble than she was burdened with at present. She'd be out of perojin.
Shoving the sharpest bit into one of the gelled bubbles, she watched the viscous liquid seep out, taking care not to get it on her skin or inhale it. Yet nearly as soon as it had dribbled out, it evaporated in the exposure to air, leaving nothing but a tiny sticky trace. Puncturing another and another, Sam fervently hoped this would be the way to lessen the effects of the chemical withdrawal, akin to lowering the power. The fewer the activating particles, the lower the output. Right? Made sense, as long as it worked that way. If not, if she needed all those bubbles intact or if she couldn't sleep on it partially filled, she was in trouble. For the moment anyway, satisfaction came in the form of a vicious puncturing of bubble after bubble, her frustrations giving her momentum.
With one quarter of the blisters now destroyed, Sam used the bed covering to wipe away any dried residue, just to be sure. The pillow now only three quarters its original size was not nearly as comfortable, but Sam took a deep breath and lay down, ready to put her theory to the test. If she awoke and was fine for the remainder of the day, she'd try another quarter of the pillow tomorrow. How long she should give herself with each adjustment, however, was completely random on her part; a day might be far too short. All she knew was she didn't have forever.
_____
Along the edge of the bed, around the end, up the other side, turn around and back again. Along the edge of the bed, around the end, up the other side, turn around and back again.
Bored as hell and just as helpless, Daniel finally decided to give in to that much needed rest he knew would be essential before the second hearing. Retrial. Semantics; it all added up to the same thing. Unfortunately, he had absolutely no idea how much longer he had to wait. No one was keeping him informed; no one was telling him anything.
_____
Jack had given up his own pacing, and now he sat with his back against the far wall, just relieved his nose didn't seem to be broken. Swollen along with his cheek and hurting enough, making breathing difficult, maybe by tomorrow he'd be able to keep his mind on something far more important than facial pain and a pounding head. Secretly, he was glad he'd taken that for Daniel. Hopefully Mazurco considered them even, now.
"I don't trust him, Teal'c."
"Oludaran has given us no reason to trust him, O'Neill." Teal'c remained staring out the window.
"I was talking about Daniel."
Teal'c stiffened, but did not shift his position. "I fail to understand."
"He said he's alright. But I can't tell if he's been getting… what he needs." His fix.
"Daniel Jackson will not let his team down, O'Neill."
"Not talking about the team, Teal'c; I'm talking about his life. You're not the one who saw him on the wrong side of a balcony." That had been a recurring image in Jack's mind lately; this time, there was no one to come to Daniel's rescue.
There was nothing to do now but wait for Oludaran's next move, and Jack hated waiting. Patience was not his strongest character trait; he'd depleted his resources of that years ago. More to the point, he really didn't think Oludaran had any clue as to what to do with them next, but the man would possibly be forced into a quick move if he felt the authorities might be getting suspicious. Oludaran had not been a happy camper at Daniel's admission regarding the shuttle. Ollie had nothing to lose by losing Daniel. What had he meant by Daniel being the one to get him what he wanted below the waters, and no one finding out? What plans did he have for Daniel, for SG-1?
"Aren't you tired of the view?"
Teal'c, standing still as a sentinel at the window, missed a beat before replying. "I have been observing the activity outside the palace."
"And?" Activity… as in, birds building a nest, or…? This room was up in the sky in the middle of nowhere.
"And I believe Oludaran is planning something."
No kidding. "Like what?" Jack used his hands to push himself off the floor, and strode over, his face throbbing with each step. "What d'you think he's planning?"
"I am unable to read lips at a distance of a quarter mile, O'Neill. Perhaps you may do better than I."
"Yeah…" Jack saw the men way down below, outside the shuttle bay. From this height they looked like a set of ambulatory golf clubs. "Maybe later."
_____
There had been sleep, and food, and sleep, and pacing. Food and sleep and pacing. Two days' worth, approximately, before Daniel had been summoned. And now he sat here, in the rounded rubbery chair, up on the stage behind the podium, with five state commissioners, A-L and M-G and the rest of the alphabet gone. Maybe they weren't important enough for this stage of the proceedings. By now he knew Broerderen and had been introduced to Commissioners Bendawaight and Scopeglio. The other two, it seemed, had not found him worthy of introduction, but he could almost pronounce the embroidered names on their shoulder tags.
Daniel watched as the doors were opened to the public, knowing only that Oludaran had left him to blindly meet his own fate. Daniel wished desperately to speak with his friends, to reassure himself that they were still safe. Otherwise - if Oludaran had already done away with them - there was no point in continuing with this charade, and Oludaran knew it. Daniel had his suspicions, none of which could ease his troubled mind.
This room was too dark, he noticed for the first time. Possibly to keep the audience's faces from being seen too closely, or maybe to contribute to a more austere, severe setting. It was intimidating, not that he needed more help in achieving that; his mind was doing just fine on its own. Comfortable deep red seats in the stands seemed more fitting for a public theatrical performance than a trial. Get cozy, everyone; this may take a while.
This time, the retrial was only for friends and family of the twenty-nine victims of the ill-advised treasure hunt. Daniel's fate was in their hands. The rest of the public, although allowed to be present up in the balconies, would neither be asking questions nor voting.
With a basic welcome directed at the citizens by Commissioner no-name, the questions began. No use for long speeches, apparently; the people all knew why they were here. No such thing as lawyers, either; Daniel was responding for himself, forced to keep up the lies which seemed to be growing and expanding by the minute.
_____
Something might indeed be up, so when Oludaran brought Jack and Teal'c back down to the viewing room, where the hearing was being televised, Jack kept himself more alert to his surroundings and to the mood of their captors. If the men were going to make a move depending on the outcome of this farce, Jack wanted to be ready to react. He knew Teal'c was prepared for the same.
Why Oludaran allowed them to watch this, after Jack's outburst and Mazurco's revenge, they couldn't quite ascertain; maybe it was just easier for him this way. Easier to make excuses, each and every time they asked for Daniel back. Easier to say how impossible that would be at present, given the state of public wrath. Maybe Oludaran knew full well how this would all end, and wanted them to witness Daniel's misery. Maybe he wanted to show them it was all one big joke, and SG-1 was nothing but toys in his hands. Maybe there was a Goa'uld down here, waiting for a new host. Or a way to Earth. Maybe… maybe he should just stop coming up with half-cocked notions designed to scare the hell out of him, and just watch what was going on. Not that that was any easier; Daniel was alone in this, and had no idea whether the rest of SG-1 was even still alive. Give us another clue, Daniel.
That overly large communications device, a flattened globe somewhat like a thick hamburger pattie or enormous Babybel cheese, showed the theatre - arena, as Jack couldn't help but think of it - in the round, 3D. Holographic, as though one could stick a hand in and touch the podium, or pat a friend on the back. Almost like cameras, the tiny spheres set up around this room relayed a variety of angles; one could switch from one to the other depending on what - or whom - they wanted to view.
"Keep it on Daniel," Jack growled as the viewer panned the audience. He didn't enjoy seeing that scared look on Daniel's face, the worry in his eyes, but he didn't want to miss another message confirming that Daniel was "still okay" or that his teammate was aware he and Teal'c were still alive. He could tell by Daniel's expressions what was going on in his mind.
As for Carter, they'd heard nothing in two days.
Oludaran adjusted the metallic plates that allowed for controlled viewing. This palace and a fleet of shuttles was not all he'd procured for himself; he certainly had all the amenities, at the center of which was a honkin' big, superbly grand, entertainment system.
Jack's features darkened, and he shot a glance towards Teal'c. The other man was focused on the audio, intense, his forehead taut and jaw muscles inadvertently twitching. He, too, had been attending to the shouts and accusations from the theatre audience.
Jack watched Daniel's face go from worried but prepared, to frazzled and pale in less than a dozen seconds.
_____
Sam was feeling few ill effects from having carved up half the pillow; other than a lingering headache and sense of malaise, she had made it through the first day and half of another without experiencing major depression, anger, or anxiety. Talking to Arrinan was a lesson in frustration, however; yet, for some reason, she had a strange feeling that Arrinan liked her. Maybe she was on her way to breaking through that thick shell. Or, maybe it was just wishful thinking.
"Look, contact him and tell him I want to talk to my friends."
"He say he'd'a come fr'a yeh when it be't'a time."
"And in the meantime, I'm a prisoner? Look, I realize I need the use of your bed, Arrinan, and I thank you for that. But shouldn't I be allowed to speak to my friends during the day?"
"I hava'n sa shuttle."
Sam frowned in concentration. "You have no shuttle?"
Arrinan shook her head. "Niy."
"I know that. But Izzrek does, and you have a communications device. You can contact him."
"Niy."
"Why not? Because you're afraid?"
Arrinan looked at her sharply, but refused to be provoked into a response.
"There is something of value below the Stones, Arrinan, or there once was. My friend knew what he was talking about."
At Arrinan's uncomprehending look, Sam continued, "You have to know what I'm talking about…. Haven't you heard anything about the Stones translations? Do you know what's going on?"
"From what say'a Izzrek an'ta Oludaran."
"Oh." Of course. There were no broadcasting screens out this way; she hadn't even seen the newscasts. Well, why not fill her in? Ally or foe, Sam had not yet decided; maybe it was time to find out. "My friend Daniel is on trial because he can read the Stones, Arrinan. He says there is or once was something of value below the waters, but we have no idea what it might be. Oludaran is forcing him to say he lied, so that he can continue to keep his palace and wealth and power. That's why my friends are being held hostage, that's why they've set me up here. They want us out of the way. Oludaran is the one who is lying, Arrinan. He can't read the script… or if he can, he lied about what it says. He just wants that palace on the mountain, and who knows what he'll ask for next."
Arrinan turned away, but not before Sam saw the anger in her features. "Izzrek, he may brothra. Because o'heya, I hav'a sa house. Hav'a sa here da live."
Suddenly Sam understood. Arrinan didn't care what was going on in the outside world; she was taken care of by the person who himself was on the payroll of the one who presumably could read the Stones. The one with the glass mansion in the mountains; the one who could ask for just about anything from the state in return for the revelation of a centuries-old secret. Even with seemingly so little, this woman needed Oludaran's wealth as much as Izzrek did, as much as Oludaran did. And she needed Daniel's lies to be seen as truth in the same way. She needed Oludaran's plot to work, and maybe she even knew what it was.
"Where are you from, Arrinan? Were you born on Luok'shuo?"
After a long silence, Arrinan shook her head. "Niy. Come no too longn'a past."
"Has Izzrek been here longer than you have?"
Arrinan's nod was barely discernible.
"These are your people now, Arrinan. Luok'shuo is your home. If you support Oludaran I hope you know what you're doing. This isn't just about you." Sam watched Arrinan's face, but the woman's expression remained unreadable. "Arrinan, I do need to know what's going on. I need to know that Daniel is okay. That my friends are still alive."
"Giv ya time. Soon ya be know." Arrinan walked away, to the part of her house that Sam had never seen. To the part where she would disappear until mealtime, or until the following day.
Sam sighed and plopped herself down on the chair. No communications globe that she could see, or at least, none left within her reach. She could walk out of this house so very easily, but where would she go? There was nothing around but fields and streams and forest, which was probably why Izzrek and Oludaran had sequestered her here. Izzrek's sister certainly couldn't be the only person they knew with the perojin-magnio bed. Maybe Oludaran didn't need one, but he'd never specified anything about his companions, other than the generic 'we'. Did any of them leave the mountain and go home to somewhere else at night, in order to sleep and be refreshed?
"My family heard there was treasure in the lake. My father held out hope that he would find some, but instead he found irate, damaged seekers who couldn't hold their tempers. My father died because of what you told us. Because of what you led us to believe." The heartfelt speech held the audience surprisingly quiet, each knowing they would get their turn to confront the man onstage before them. After the first few rowdy moments, they had settled down nicely, in anticipation, wanting fervently to get started. This was their show, now.
"Your father died because, as you said, some other men couldn't hold their tempers," Daniel was succeeding in holding his. His voice was calm and gentle, disguising the adrenaline flow in his blood. "I'm truly sorry for your loss; I know how you must feel. But I was not the one who downed your father's vehicle." One potentially useful bit of knowledge Daniel had gained from all this was that those shuttles were not waterproof, nor did the functions work when wet. Even the door panels would not open. But leak they did, and the occupants could easily suffocate or drown.
"You have no idea how I feel."
"Yes, I do. My parents died when I was very young. I know how much it hurts."
Another spoke out. "Because of this, you find it easy to lie to others to achieve your own goals? Have you learned nothing in your life, from having no parents to guide you?"
"Believe me, there's nothing at all easy about lying." And that was one of the few things he'd said in the past few days that really was the truth. Daniel was hating this more than he'd hated any of his actions in recent memory, and the lump in his throat throbbed with his words.
"But we cannot believe you; this you yourself have proven," called yet another voice from the stands.
Daniel sighed, then took a slow, deep breath, trying to settle his nerves. This would be a long day, or days. This trial would continue, he had been told, until all who wanted to speak had done so.
_____
"Help him!" Jack was livid, seething internally. There was no reason to put Daniel through this farce; none of it was real and all the people in this room knew that. Even the one carrying a symbiote. Maybe that was the problem.
"I cannot intervene in the middle of a hearing."
"Just as you couldn't intervene before it began?" Jack furiously spat, the words dripping with venom. "You know, Daniel's a smart guy. Sooner or later he's going to figure out that you don't intend to help him or release us, and he'll start telling the truth." Jack saw Oludaran's face tighten marginally, but it wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping for. There was no real surprise, no shock. Maybe he shouldn't have given away this bit of insight, but it was mostly a bluff. Daniel wouldn't do anything that would risk his teammates, even if he knew it was all a scam. Jack was sure he already knew.
"You can't be sure of that, can you."
"Of what? That you won't release us, or that Daniel will tell all? And where's Carter? You have no business keeping her away during the day."
"She needs the nightly dose of perojin. We will not keep transporting her back and forth."
"So at least let me speak to her."
"Perhaps later."
"Now."
Oludaran looked quizzically at SG-1's team leader, clearly knowing he had no obligation to either debate this or give in to the demand. And yet, probably out of entertainment and boredom - for what did he have to do here all day but watch alien TV and look at the view - he chose to continue. "She does not have a chol'rok'tal."
"The woman does. Her brother called her the other day."
"Arrinan may be asleep."
Jack glared at his opponent. Oludaran was enjoying this; his men just seemed annoyed. "So wake her. I don't really give a damn."
"Nor do I, O'Neill. The way I see it you have two choices; you can be brought back to your room immediately, or you can refrain from using your voice completely, as your colleague here does."
Jack knew he wasn't kidding, and no way was he leaving Daniel unsupported, even though he couldn't tell his friend as much. He might not know what was happening to Carter right now, but he couldn't be left in the dark as to what Daniel was going through, as long as there was any other choice. Following Teal'c's lead, Jack sat down stiffly and shut up.
_____
"What could possibly compel you to tell such tales, take such advantage of a peaceful populace such as ours?" The woman's pleading but angry voice was desperate for answers, desperate to know that there was something important her son may have died for, passenger as he'd been on his uncle's transport. The little boy had gone out on an adventure, always happy to spend a day with a family member. Even from a dozen yards away in this dull lighting, her eyes penetrated the podium and Daniel's heart. He'd give anything to bring those people back, to undo what he'd done. To take back those simple, innocent words of what he'd read at the pyramids. His eyes welled.
He could feel it inside him, the urgency, the agitation. Anger towards these people who couldn't know the truth; towards Oludaran, who did not deserve to be idealized, treated so well by a naive, unsuspecting people. People who had been treated badly in their not-so-distant history, treated as slaves by Goa'uld who'd addicted them, people who wanted only to be able to trust from now on. Where exactly had Oludaran come from, anyway? He obviously hadn't been a descendent of this slave population.
Daniel had no answer for her, nor could he focus clearly enough to come up with any falsehood worthy of the woman. His mind was wandering, his body tingling, and he needed desperately to stand and stretch. Or throw something. Or sleep. Angrily, he realized he'd been without a dose of perojin for nearly ten hours. Still waiting, the woman expected a response. That question, like all the others he couldn't answer, hadn't been rhetorical. "Nothing," Daniel responded. Nothing but desperation. Tempted to admit that sentiment, he knew it would not be understood by anyone but his teammates. "I cannot condone taking advantage of others." Another truth, and any time Daniel could offer up an un-lie, a little weight was lifted from his shoulders. He fidgeted, trying futilely to get comfortable.
His reply, however, only had the effect of creating more discord. The audience was growing louder with each question, more restless with each unsatisfactory response. They thought he was playing games, patronizing them. The shouting from the unmanaged balconies was no longer easily suppressed, the crowd leaning more and more towards chaos with each word uttered by Daniel or his inquisitors, those families dealing with loss.
"So you agree you are an unwelcome scourge, deserving to be wiped out of existence, in the manner in which your treated our brothers and husbands?" The inciting call came from the back, loud enough to be heard by all.
It was Commissioner Bendawaight who intervened. "Tempers are growing; we have been here long hours today. We shall break and return tomorrow at new light. Everyone, go home and get rest."
Or a perojin fix, Daniel thought gloomily, despising the idea of being high and addicted for the third time in his few years of planet hopping. Addicted to the sarcophagus, addicted to a powered-up light machine, addicted to a perojin bed. His "when in Rome" mode of existence didn't willingly extend to detrimental health and medical conditions. He realized glumly that Sam was undergoing her second time around, and it gnawed at him. How are you doing, Sam? He wondered. And then he remembered Jack, and Teal'c; he hadn't thought of them for hours, hadn't had time. "I'm okay Jack," he mouthed once more, hoping his teammates would understand, but it was too late, for the broadcast was over, and the guards were already leading him back to the shuttle and his room. No, his cell. For as long as he was here, he remained a prisoner.
_____
"He's losing it out there," Jack had seen Daniel's restlessness, his uncharacteristically curt responses to some of the questioning, the glassy look in his eyes. The linguist just didn't seem to care any more. "He's giving up."
"Daniel Jackson has no premeditated responses to offer, O'Neill. He does not know how to proceed."
"Doesn't matter. They've already condemned him," Jack declared. "Oludaran, put an end to this."
"At the moment, there is nothing I can do."
Nothing he wanted to do, more likely. "Be a man. Give yourself up." Sure. Like he was talking to someone who cared? Jack knew there was a greater chance of Teal'c becoming president of the United States.
Oludaran laughed. "When I am kinged, I shall release him from whatever banishment or bondage they have proclaimed for him."
If he's still alive. "By then more of my people will have come and killed you, so no problem there," Jack shot back. If Oludaran wanted to lightly joke about Daniel's future, then he could play the same game. In about three days, the SGC would try to contact them. And then what?
"That might be possible, had I not ordered a welcome delegation to wait at the chappa'ai. Anyone coming through will immediately be brought to experience the hospitality of my palace."
Jack's fury rose to an atmospheric high. "You bloody son of a bitch." The card he'd been counting on for two days now had been torn to shreds, and Oludaran had known all along.
"I like to cover my options," Oludaran shrugged with a smile. He turned to his men. "Return them to their room."
_____
Sam had tried. She'd wandered the entire property, for Arrinan - thin little waif of a woman that she was - would not have dared try to stop her, even if she had been interested enough to do so. No, Arrinan's job ended at providing room and board, likely at the financial expense of Izzrek. It didn't cover security as well. Thus, no security had been provided; obviously they thought of the major as no threat to their secrecy. So, off she'd gone, in search of a shuttle she could teach herself to operate.
There was none on the property; Arrinan hadn't been lying. The outskirts of the neighbourhood left little in the way of amenities; where the hell were the hardware stores or fast food outlets when you needed them? Or a hotel with a pay phone? She'd even settle for a stand selling communication globes, not that she had any money.
No, there was nothing around but another farm in the near distance, and woods. She knew they'd flown over more homesteads and a few streets, a little village, and now she tried to recall how far away they may have been; likely a good day's walk or more. Sam had been walking for forty-five minutes already when she saw him; landmarks looked closer than they actually were, in this wide open expanse.
"Hi," she smiled, the local farmer bent over his low crops, nearly camouflaged in his tan clothing. "How are you doing today?" She hoped he spoke English.
The man looked up from inspecting a row of something golden emerging raggedly from the ground. "I am well. Are you a newcomer?"
"I'm spending some time with Arrinan, at the next house over. I was wondering if you might have a communications sphere I could use for a few minutes. Um, a chol'rok'tal."
"Arrinan does not own one?" The farmer brushed sweat from his forehead and pulled his straw sun hat down lower, covering his frown.
"She does, but she's asleep with it in her room. I have a message to deliver to her brother." Now Sam felt she was lying as much as Daniel. No harm done here, though.
"There is one at the house, but I am rather busy. If you care to, you may go ask my wife LodAreda. But the house is a long stretch from here; you may prefer to wait for Arrinan's nap to be done with."
"Thanks. I was out for the walk anyway."
"Ay, the beauty of the day."
"Exactly," Sam agreed, her hopes rising. "Where might I find your house?"
"Straight on back," he pointed in the direction of nothing but woods beyond his fields. Through the distant trees Sam could make out the distinct color of a brightly tiled roof. "Say Joartam has sent you."
"Thanks… Joartam. I'm Samantha." Sam smiled again and headed towards the woods, hoping she'd be back before Arrinan found her missing. That, however, was rather unlikely; while the woman kept to herself and rarely stopped by the guest room on the floor below, she did bring Sam food twice a day and the late afternoon meal was soon coming due.
It was a twenty minute walk to the edge of the field; she could just barely see Joartam bending in the midst of his crops by the time she came upon the little house nestled among the trees. Plain as it was, it was homey and inviting, a square glass and stone edifice concealing only a single room within. Sam knocked on the door.
It was opened by a plump woman in red dress and matching apron, her hair tousled as though she'd been sleeping.
"Hi," Sam flashed her most effective, charming smile. "I'm sorry to bother you. Are you LodAreda?"
The woman looked Sam over curiously. "I am. And you are …?"
"I'm Samantha. Joartam told me I could use your communications sphere. I have an important message to relay to a friend… friend's brother, and I'm far from home."
"Of course." The woman returned the smile, opening the door further. "Welcome in."
Sam stepped into the room, her heart starting to pound. The thought of finally contacting the colonel combatted with the realization that she knew not what to say to Oludaran, and that he might not even accept the communication from her at all. He might not transfer the call to the colonel's shuttle - if he and Teal'c were still up there. Hopefully the two men had not been kept locked away up in space all this time; the colonel would be going stir crazy. But if she could at least get news, find out about Daniel, she might have a better idea of what to do next. She had to let them know to decrease the number of bubbles in his pillow, at least…
Unless he hadn't had one at all for two days, wherever he was, and that thought chilled her. He'd be so deep into withdrawal by now that she couldn't begin to imagine what he'd be capable of doing, or what damage his brain might be chemically doing to his body.
The room was tidy and large, with many windows decorated with painted flowers. A bed - with two perojin pillows - lay off in one corner, a rubbery plastic table with matching chairs in another. A cooking center took up much of the third area of the room, and a couple of benches filled the rest of the wall space. Sam glanced around at the furnishings; sparse, but functional.
"Be seated." With another shy smile, the woman placed the mint green ball - an even smaller model than the others Sam had seen - in Sam's hands.
"Thank you," Carter said gratefully.
"I will give you privacy," the woman announced, handing Sam the receiver, before retreating outside to the front stoop.
Carter placed the metallic piece on her face, still trying to decide whether to call Oludaran and demand to speak to the colonel, or to call the hotel for help and tell them everything. Without having her entire team together, she didn't know if the wrong decision would end up getting the colonel and Teal'c killed at the hands of Oludaran. It would be one simple step to drop them from the sky before any help could arrive, or zap them with those weapons until they were dead. Nervously, she dialed the six Goa'uld numbers the hotel clerk Semiran had given them. Sam's heart was pumping wildly as Oludaran's face slid into focus in splendid 3D.
It was not a happy face. "Carter." The woman O'Neill kept asking for.
"Oludaran. Let me talk to Colonel O'Neill."
There was a pause, and for a stricken moment the horrible thought crossed her mind that she was too late, that her teammates were no longer alive.
"He's out of communications range."
Damn it… that could mean way too many things. "Is he alive?"
Oludaran chuckled. "So far."
"You've left them with no way of contacting you?" In a shuttle up in the sky? They could be sick, or in need of water. What if they needed… anything? No big surprise there, though; Sam didn't know why she felt such shock. May as well grind in the guilt, if that man was capable of any. Right, when horses could fly. Well, maybe on some world. "What if there's an emergency?"
"Then they can bang on the floor."
Sam frowned, puzzled. "What? Where are they?"
"Why are you calling? And why has Arrinan given you a chol'rok'tal when she was warned against it? How did you get this number?"
"I want to talk to the colonel. Or Teal'c."
"This conversation will end now."
"Wait! Unless I can talk to my friends, I'm going to tell Arrinan about your lies." Too late there.
"She won't care."
"Along with everyone in this neighbourhood," Sam tried again. "I'm speaking from a farmer's house."
"Poor peasants with little power."
"He has a shuttle."
Oludaran paused. With a transport device, Carter could reach the authorities, could rescue Daniel. Could give his deception away. Not, however, if she cared about her two captive friends. "Where did a farmer get a shuttle?" That was impossible, they were too poor - unless he had connections. Definitely not a man with whom he wanted Carter to be speaking.
"From a visiting relative. That's no concern of yours. I'm also going to call Sovereign Hall and tell them to come get me out of here. I can use their perojin bed."
"Go ahead. I've been waiting for a reason to get rid of your friends. They're worthless to me, and far too much trouble."
Damn. Was this a bluff? She couldn't take the chance, but she could bluff back. "Well if they're already dead, I may as well get rid of you too, any way I can. And I have no way of knowing other than to speak to them."
After a moment, Oludaran turned his face away, and spoke to one of his men. "Bring O'Neill."
Sam closed her eyes, her breathing shallow as she waited.
"Carter!" The relief was palpable. "Finally! How the hell are you?"
Sam couldn't help but smile, her own relief lending a sensation of warmth to her fears. "Fine, sir, but frustrated. Where are you? Are you and Teal'c alright?" Her expression faded into a frown at the bruising on the colonel's face; was this little globe just creating shadows?
"Oh, we're fine, fine. Enjoying the hospitality. Nice views, and they feed us daily if we mind our manners. Got us in a room upstairs. Gotta say though, there's not much to do but watch Teal'c's hair grow. Are you - ?"
"Sir, I've been punching out the bubbles in the pillow. A quarter of them per day; it's equivalent to lowering the power. It seems to be working." She could ignore the pounding in her head, starting up again. She could put up with the slight nausea; it was nothing like the anger and distress she'd felt three days ago. She heard a sigh.
"Good job."
"Colonel… Daniel?" Sam tensed, bracing herself for grim news.
"Yeah. His trial's being broadcast, they're into the third day."
"What?" That wasn't what she'd been expecting, although the fact that she was still a prisoner obviously meant so was Daniel. "Wasn't Oludaran - "
"Right, he keeps his word like a Goa'uld. In fact, I'm wondering where he got his training." Jack kept further suspicions to himself; they would only serve to make Carter more impatient in an unmanageable situation.
"I haven't seen any of it, sir. I had to borrow this device from a neighbor just to talk to you."
"Glad you did, Carter. No, very glad you did. Neighbor, you say? Anyone who can get you to the city?"
"Not yet, sir." Sam hoped Oludaran didn't have a means of listening in. Surely he did, though; she couldn't see him allowing his hostage a private conversation. "I'm working on it."
"Work fast, Major. I have a feeling tomorrow won't go well for Daniel."
CHAPTER 16
Along the edge of the bed, around the end, up the other side, turn around and back again. Along the edge of the bed, around the end, up the other side, turn around and back again.
Along the edge of the bed, around the end, up the other side, turn around and back again. Along the edge of the bed, around the end, up the other side, turn around and back again.
Daniel had had some sleep, at least three hours' worth. The bed wasn't keeping him as comfortable and secure as it had at the hotel; either it was losing some of its potency, or his stresses were overriding its effectiveness. Or… his dependency was deepening its foothold, the more he used the stuff. He certainly wasn't losing his need for the inbound chemical. His agitation proved that.
Along the edge of the bed, around the end, up the other side, turn around and back again. Along the edge of the bed, around the end, up the other side, turn around and back again.
This was Daniel's definition of tedium and frustration. It would also have been Jack's, and Sam's. Teal'c, he could never tell; the Jaffa's training as First Prime to a System Lord had taught him to stand watch and keep guard for hours at a time. Teal'c might well have held up better than Daniel was doing under these conditions, and Daniel wished for some of that tolerance now. He was quickly going stir-crazy.
Along the edge of the bed, around the end, up the other side, turn around and back again.
Finally he allowed himself to lie down. He was in no condition to face that crowd again, and knew very well how poorly the last session had gone. If Oludaran wasn't going to help him, if his teammates were to remain imprisoned… or if they were dead… he'd have to do a better job of saving himself than he'd done up to this point. For he had no idea of the laws here, or what sort of justice might be meted out, but he wasn't going to kid himself into thinking he'd get off easy. As far as everyone knew, he was a swindler, a greedy charlatan out for something that they couldn't understand; they thought he wanted to compete with Oludaran. The people truly believed he'd seen Oludaran's incoming wealth and had acted with envy, scheming for a share. Believed he'd be willing to cheat a society to get it.
Well, someone might, but it wasn't him, and that someone was manipulating the game pieces well. Oludaran even seemed steps ahead of the game. For a newcomer, he had impressive knowledge of this society.
_____
Daniel was woken by the pounding on his door. Groggily gaining coherence, his mind couldn't place the noise. Bolting suddenly into a sitting position, he looked at the shuttle parking pad, but not only was the hatch up with no vehicle in view, his clearing mind realized the racket was coming from the interior door, leading into the lavatory.
"What is it?" He questioned nervously, sliding to the foot of his bed.
"Allow me entry!" A deep, angry voice growled.
That didn't sound like help on its way. "You have the wrong room." Or so Daniel was hoping. Oh, how he was hoping.
"I have the right room. Open this door!" The man shouted, banging more fervently.
"My door can't open while yours is open," Daniel was thoroughly glad for that security detail, now. Even in its glory of glass and illusion of privacy, this was still a prison cell, and this floor a prison block. Despairingly, Daniel wished for a cell phone, or a communications globe. Or an exterior door to bang on from his side, in order to call the guards. What he needed and what he had were very different things, though. A panel to outside with an eighty-five-foot drop just wouldn't cut it.
"I forced mine shut. Yours should be opening!" The pounding and kicking grew more furious.
Oh crap. Daniel impulsively looked around for a weapon, or a place to hide, knowing there was nothing. Under the bedcovers? Right, very protective and concealing. He only hoped there was a failsafe in the system, whereby a door that hadn't been opened to the lavatory in the first place, couldn't be messed with.
The blows continued even more frantically, more heavily, sounding fierce against the thick opaque glass. Impacts were being delivered by something harder and more solid than a foot or a fist; a piece of furniture, maybe? Where would he have found it? Daniel's heart was pounding almost as loudly. He stood, quickly stuffing his feet into his boots, and waited. All he could hope was that the man would soon give up. Did he know who Daniel was? Or was this a random invasion, Daniel being the only other person in this cell block? Was the man just suffering from withdrawal, needing an outlet? That couldn't be right; these cells all had perojin pillows… didn't they?
A loud cracking noise penetrated the tension, and Daniel jumped, inhaling reflexively, his total attention on the center of the thick glass door. It had to hold, or criminals would escape all the time, wouldn't they? Yeah… that was denial talking; that door led nowhere but into the lavatory and other cells. Where could anyone possibly go?
There was no way out, and Daniel's slight bubble of optimism popped, just as the door cracked and shattered and a booted foot came into view, a body following.
He was large, about the size and strength of Teal'c, and when the full shape of him charged into the room, a long section of metal lavatory tubing swinging from his hand, Daniel knew he had no recourse. His own natural weapon, words, seemed a rather flimsy means of protection.
Trying to duck out of the way although there was nowhere else to go, Daniel was unable to avoid the pipe smacking against his arm. Rolling across the bed, he reached the other side just as the pipe slammed across his upper back, solid as a baseball bat, forcing him to his knees between the wall and the bed in a wave of electrifying pain.
Grabbed from behind, Daniel was swung around and thrust up against the glass shuttle panel right behind the bed, an arm squeezed tightly against his throat, the heavy body pressed too close for him to kick out a leg. All he could do was try to fend off the suffocating grip, try to pull it clear enough of his throat to catch a breath. Daniel knew he was going to die, right there, right then, and he didn't have a clue as to why. Brief, sudden images of his teammates flitted across his mind, but all Daniel could think was "I'm sorry, guys, I blew it." His breath coming in stifled gasps, Daniel treasured what little air he could get, but talking was impossible. The guy was a solid rock of hardened lava, and no small force would budge him.
The breath was hot on Daniel's face as the stiff arm pressed more firmly. "I found no treasure. No, another saw where I was heading and cut in front of me. Now here I am, imprisoned for shoving his dupa into the lake. I'm to be sent to the Station, and I find out now it was all for nothing. Nothing!" Eyes blazed in time with the spitting growl, and the arm pressed even harder against his throat. The image began to break up in Daniel's vision, break into a pointillist painting of separate spots, growing thicker and dimmer…ringing in his ears rallied to drown out the voice, as the spots became a spotted blanket of gray. Nothingness swam inside his head, gray and soundless, his need for air all-consuming. Daniel knew this sensation; it had happened to him in a prison called Hadante. This might be a dream, a deathly illusion, this falling backwards, the arm loosening, no wall behind him to stop the descent. A deathly dream; a dream into… what-ness? Oblivion? Unable to process what was happening, Daniel's mind could only imagine that the panel had given way and he was falling out the window…
_____
"I do not believe he is a Goa'uld. A Jaffa, perhaps. The sensation is not strong, O'Neill, nor is it sustained."
A result of Teal'c's lack of symbiote? His former Jaffa senses seemed not so finely attuned any more. "Which of them is it? Not Mazurco?"
"I was not able to tell for certain, as they were seated too closely together. I do not believe it to be either Mazurco or Oludaran, however, for not only would I have perceived this much sooner, but Major Carter would have sensed it as well. I am sorry. I do not believe tretonin functions as adequately in such matters of detection as did my own symbiote. "
"Don't apologize for that, Teal'c. Do you think it's one of the newer guys?" Jack started pacing, trying to fit this into perspective. "What's going on, Teal'c? They building this palace and scheming against the people in order to gain power and set the scene for some Goa'uld to come in and take over? Why else would they need such a huge place?"
"I do not know."
"They're using Daniel. If they help him at all, it's only because they want some godforsaken treasure that may or may not be buried in the lake. If it's not, they'll kill him, and then they'll kill us. If it is, they'll kill us all anyway, for knowing too much. They have no intention of freeing us. We have to get out of here." Their only chance might ultimately lie with Major Carter.
"What would be your plan A, O'Neill?"
Jack looked up briskly, wondering if the hint of sarcasm in Teal'c's tone was intentional, or just his own overworked imagination. "There are a lot of rooms below us, Teal'c. They're becoming complacent down there, figuring we're no threat. We keep watch tonight; the first time they all clear out, we get the hatch open and lower ourselves down."
Teal'c gazed at O'Neill as though the man was doing nothing but venting steam, ranting, and that his senses would undoubtedly return before the middle of the night. There was no way they could overtake those men in their own territory with no weapons, even if half of them actually were sleeping. In a more lucid state of mind, O'Neill would realize that.
CHAPTER 17
"Now."
Teal'c had been certain O'Neill would see the foolhardiness of this plan, but the colonel's determination had not waned. Still, Teal'c had to admit that attempting this scheme could put them in no worse a situation than sitting here doing nothing… unless, of course, it got them killed. "You are certain about this, O'Neill?"
"No one's been in sight for ten minutes. So maybe they went for a coffee. Maybe they're at the toilet." He paused. "Well, that would be good; can't come after us with their pants down. My guess is they're too cocky, thinking there's no possible way out of here. I'm also guessing they've gone to bed. Look, if we can get out of that room to the main elevator, we can get to the shuttle port." They had come through that lower room upon their arrival, and Jack thought he remembered where the central elevator was in relation to the shuttle parking garage.
"What then, O'Neill?"
"Well…" Right; keep the hard questions coming. Could he get away with 'we'll jump off that bridge when we come to it' this time? "Look for anything that might be a shuttle remote when we're in the room. And grab whatever might come in handy to hit them with. Ready?"
Instead of replying, Teal'c bent down to test their theory of lifting the round elevator lid. This would be the tricky part. Actually, one of the tricky parts, getting a grip underneath it. The thin crack of the edge was flush with the floor.
Normally activated by the rising of the elevator on its pole, they'd have to force the panel open manually. While Jack was no astrophysicist, minor experimentation throughout the afternoon had indicated it could be done by lifting it smoothly off the mooring. Jack had noticed the slight bounce with the application of pressure, the cover rising a fraction of an inch. All they had to do was grab it as it lifted, and tug. The pole to which it was attached would then rise, lifting the elevator - hopefully soundlessly - up to their level. A piece of cake.
With Teal'c kneeling on the floor and Jack standing on the hatch itself, they were now in position.
"Ready?"
"Indeed."
Jack had removed his boots and socks so as to do this silently. Bending at the knees, he lifted himself upward, then dropped his full weight on the cover. Quickly he jumped off; it would do no good for Teal'c to grab the edge just to have it forced down once again by his own weight.
It didn't work. "The lid did not rise enough for me to grasp the edges, O'Neill."
"We'll try again."
The actions repeated, it didn't work a second time, either. Or a third. The smooth, thin edge kept slipping from Teal'c's grasp, and the men were becoming frustrated, although only O'Neill was letting it show. If only they had something to shove in the fissure to keep it from returning to position…but they could find nothing thin enough, or sturdy enough.
"Crap. We'll keep trying. We have nothing else to do anyway." Not to mention nothing to lose.
After a half hour and many dozens of attempts later, Teal'c had nearly grabbed - and then dropped - the glass lid several times. Neither man, however, was willing to give up. So far, none of their captors had appeared in the room below, but Jack wasn't confident that they'd be gone for too much longer. "We've still got night on our side. Hopefully everyone's nestled all snug in their beds, visions of sugar plums screwing with their heads."
Teal'c stared at O'Neill curiously. "You are in need of sleep as well, are you not?"
Jack grimaced with a shrug. "Maybe. Come on, let's switch."
"I was about to make the same suggestion, O'Neill."
This time it was Jack who knelt down at the circumference of the hatch, his fingers ready.
Teal'c's weight seemed to be the magic ingredient; with the added pressure, the lid bounced up a few millimeters more. "I almost had it that time, Teal'c!"
Two more tries, and Jack had grabbed an inch of glass. "Got it! Grab the other side!"
Teal'c quickly knelt opposite Jack, placing his palm on the side thickness of glass as it rose upward another full inch. The lid lifted, and with the entire panel now sliding outward into the room, hinged on its pole, the elevator automatically released, rising towards them. Jack held his breath, waiting for some alarm to sound, or something. There was, however, only a slight whirring as the lift arrived and Jack and Teal'c stepped onto the small round platform, hurriedly grabbing their boots. "Good job," Jack whispered, his own temporary relief melting with the onset of his next phase of tension. Their weight slowly dropped the platform down into the room below.
Not a soul was in sight or stirring, and Jack felt a small tingle of hope as he thought maybe they really had all gone to bed after all. He signaled Teal'c to move left towards one of three doors; hopefully no one was lingering in that room through which they needed to pass. The problem was darkness; down here, there was even less starlight than in the room above, and only the palest artificial glow from the far wall kept this room from sucking everything into its blackness. Jack stealthily crept across the room, boots in hand, his eyes alert for any moveable object that could serve as a club or weapon, Teal'c at arm's length beside him.
He never saw the attacker.
A sharp pain shot deep into his back and rode upwards, surging along his spine and through his limbs. And then, as he hit the floor, sensing Teal'c dropping like a lead weight beside him, Jack realized he could no longer feel anything at all.
Unfortunately, he had no trouble hearing the words. "Well, that kept us entertained for a while."
_____
Daniel saw sky.
Something feeling vaguely like arms grabbed him from behind, pulled him, kept him from plummeting nine storeys to his death, and the big angry guy was falling backwards onto the bed. Daniel's first inhalation was ragged and deep, then another and another and another, pulling air into desperate, deprived lungs through a ragingly stinging throat, as he fell to his knees and then backwards onto the floor outside his room.
Outside his room?
When he opened his eyes, a green-uniformed man, striped cap on his head, was frowning above him. There was a transparent glass ceiling a few feet overhead, and through it Daniel could again see the sky. This time, there was also a floor beneath him.
"He's conscious," the man hovering above him called to another. Who were these people? Prison guards? Police? Medics? No, no medics on Luok'shuo. And hopefully they weren't taking him to a kal'nod. Turning his aching neck sideways, Daniel realized he was in a shuttle hovering just outside his own room. The men were lifting the big guy… now temporarily paralyzed… into this transport as well.
"It's time to continue the hearing," the uniformed man told Daniel, glancing one last time towards the now-empty room with the ruined lavatory door. "Good thing unauthorized entry sounds the alarms, or you'd be dead."
_____
Work fast, Major. I have a feeling tomorrow won't go well for Daniel.
The words haunted her; as menacing as they sounded, Carter was well aware of the colonel's unique talent for understatement.
Sam had scoured the farming community, on the lookout for a shuttle she could beg, borrow, or steal. Farms were miles apart, and so far Oludaran was right; these people were too poor to own much of anything other than land. The man wasn't stupid; he knew there was nowhere for her to go around here, and no one she could turn to. She could only hope her threat had worked to worry him enough to come and take her to some other place, preferably back to the colonel and Teal'c. If he had been listening in on the conversation, he knew she was likely no longer in such dire need of the perojin solution.
That, however, was a fact she kept reminding herself. Stopping several times on the way back to sit down and rest, head supported in her hands, exhaustion nearly causing her to lie down in the field, Sam knew she wasn't yet over the addiction. She was, however, able to go many more hours without sleep now, and she no longer felt so despondent and antagonistic. A few more days, she convinced herself, and she'd be fine. She had better leave at least some of the perojin in the pillow for a while longer.
Night had been approaching when Sam finally returned to Arrinan's house. The woman had scoffed at her explanation of going out for a walk and getting lost; Sam was pretty sure Arrinan had spoken to Izzrek, who knew exactly what she'd been up to. However, the fact that she'd returned meant that she'd failed, and this, too, would likely be reported to Izzrek.
Lying in bed that night, using a one-quarter filled pillow, Sam decided to make her move before sunrise. Arrinan wouldn't be expecting her to leave that early, and, if nothing else, Sam knew she had to return to the farm to watch the circus she suspected was Daniel's present life. She had to find out if tomorrow really might go as horribly as the colonel was predicting.
She was out long before dawn, trespassing, she assumed, on private farm property. She'd lay low in the woods until Joartam had gone out to his crops, and then pay another social visit to his wife.
_____
This day had started off in hell, and then gotten worse.
"If you truly had believed in a treasure down below, why would you not have gone for it yourself?" The man was not so much asking, as reasoning out loud. "This is what we had wondered. You appeared as a newcomer who wanted us to have what rightfully belonged to us. And so, we had more reason to believe in you, to begin to doubt Oludaran. This was the reason my brother went to the lake. Now, knowing what we do, I can assume why you betrayed us so slyly; you wanted to be known as the one who could read the script, not the one who wanted the treasure, as though rewards meant nothing to you. All the while, you were hoping for fame and power. You led us to trust you because of that; and so, you are even more scheming than your admission itself has suggested. I can only believe that your conscience and fear brought you to confess. You must have known that sooner or later your lies would be discovered, proven by Oludaran, and your punishment would be even harsher. What are you hoping for now? Leniency? Forgiveness?"
Daniel's downcast expression remained steady; his face could have fallen into misery no further than it already had in the past hour. It had been physically painful to engage in any discussion with his throat so sore, but even though every word was agony, his inability to respond to the accusations stemmed from reasons other than just the physical; by all appearances, every word that was uttered by these people was the truth. God, he needed to know that his friends were all right. But with that lingering dread in the pit of his stomach, he was quite certain that after this, they could never be released for fear of revealing the truth. Or was Oludaran counting on the possibility that perhaps no one would now believe them anyway? The man had no logical reason to take that risk.
"Do you have anything to add before the final vote?" Commissioner Broerderen was asking him now. There seemed to be no further questions or heckling from the theatre; everyone, apparently, had had their say - along with a good night's rest. Daniel had only one last chance, but for the life of him… and for all he knew that was what it might come down to… his diplomatic, logical, reasoning skills had deserted him about two days ago. He could not defend a position that was not even his. His closing sentiments certainly could be neither a denial of guilt nor a plea for innocence; it was far too late for that.
"No."
"Alright." The commissioner turned to the crowd. "We shall break. When we return after the next half meal, those of you entering Section one will be in favor of banishing Daniel Jackson to the Outer Vicinity. Entry to Section two will be for those in favor of justice for their loved ones; in this case, the similar fate of imposed death by drowning. Enjoy your refreshments and return as soon - "
Daniel's head shot up, renewed adrenaline spilling into his blood. "Wait - "
"By your own admission, you have nothing further to say."
"No, I wish to propose a third choice of allowing me to go home." Daniel ignored the throbbing in his throat; that was a minor irritation compared to the finality of future events.
The man's sigh was inaudible to the audience. "Section three will be for those in favor of allowing Daniel Jackson to return freely through the chappa'ai to his own home world."
Beside him, Commissioner Scopeglio spoke too quietly for the exiting people to hear. "Do you really expect any of these devastated family members to allow you to freely leave?"
"I didn't kill anyone."
"But you are the instigator. For showing so little consideration and forethought towards those gullible enough to believe you, expect to be treated in kind. We aren't a compassionless people, Daniel Jackson, but we don't respond well to being treated as fools."
_____
Daniel's heart was beating faster than a watch on a naquada battery - an experiment Sam had tried which still gave him cause to chuckle, except on a day such as this. For the final time, he had to face the likelihood that he was not getting out of this situation. Outer vicinity? Whatever that was, they made it sound like Siberia... or Hadante. But his friends could rescue him there, couldn't they? Unless it was a place to which even shuttles, for some reason, couldn't reach. Then how would he get there in the first place? "What's the outer vicinity?" Daniel leaned over to Commissioner Bendawaight, quietly inquiring. He almost hadn't wanted to know, hadn't dared to ask again after his first try had brought an incredulous look but no explanation. Whichever way he looked at it, however, banishment sounded way better than death.
This commissioner, too, stared for a moment in surprise, then thought better of a sarcastic response. Daniel Jackson was an outsider, and possibly really didn't know. "We have two stations that orbit this planet."
Daniel's jaw dropped. "Space stations?" No, his friends would not be able to rescue him from there.
"Captivity stations. They are not pleasant places, accessible only by scheduled state transport pods, after the outcome of a hearing. Few end up there, however, as crimes are seldom committed on Luok'shuo. Most are sudden, provoked, aggressive acts. Not pre-meditated injustices such as yours, involving the lives of so many."
Daniel had heard that word before; stations. "What about those who actually committed the crimes involved here, pushed someone's shuttle into the lake? What happens to them?"
"Most have already been sent to the Stations. In such instances there is nothing to contest or debate."
"Are people kept there indefinitely?"
"Most are released after a period of time, due to insanity. Many have died suddenly. The others remain until a further vote by the people allows them to be admitted back into society. Few such votes have ever taken place, and not until many years later."
Prison, or an asylum? Daniel stared at the man blankly. "Insanity or death? Something up there must be affecting them. Don't you know what it is?"
"They must border on insanity in the first place, to have committed such acts. Separation from their families throws them over the edge. They don't sleep well. Even those who are scheduled for re-votes have frequently committed suicide. This knowledge acts as a deterrent to others, resulting a mostly crime-free society."
Except for multiple fights breaking out on a daily basis. Daniel felt his heart jump, and not in a positive way. "Do they sleep on perojin pillows and magnio beds?"
The commissioner scowled. "Of course not. If that's what you were hoping for, you have been misguided. They are given no special amenities or comfort; their time spent up there is meant as punishment, not leisure. Your comfortable treatment up until now has only been because you were not yet judged by the people, and therefore, still considered free."
Daniel's stomach clenched. There was no way he could survive on one of those stations for even a few days; no, banishment now was so not his justice of choice. "Of course they get sick!" His voice betrayed his dread. "They need those pillows and beds for their own survival." He again felt the frustration at how these people could possibly not know that, with their level of development. Yet they had only two choices; sleep in comfort, or not, and those beds were an invention of long forgotten ancestors who intentionally wiped out records of their nighttime fix so as not to let the knowledge fall into Goa'uld hands. Maybe somewhere down the line legends had even forbidden them to question or study the perojin itself.
Commissioner Bendawaight turned his face away in disgust. "They can survive without the comforts of home. They ought to have thought of that before committing the crime."
"No, you don't understand! You're, you're, you're slaves to that perojin! Going without it is what makes those people aggressive in the first place! The perojin is addictive; it makes people sick if they go without it. They, they die, they commit suicide."
"You are more insane than even I had thought. It would be a wise move to keep you locked away for a very long time."
"No! God, no. You have to listen to m -"
"Say no more. It has begun."
The people had re-entered the theatre and the doors were now closing.
Through a pounding heart and aching eyes, his back stinging where the long welt across his back rubbed against the chair, Daniel could see for himself how many rows and seats were filling up. Swallowing - and that simple act alone reminded him that what he really needed was medical treatment and rest - he counted the people in the section for banishment: two rows, five seats, for a count of twenty-five. The section for "similar justice" - in Daniel's way of thinking, an eye for an eye - had four rows, seven seats filled; forty-seven. All in favor of Daniel going home? Three.
Well, at least he wouldn't be sent to the asylum to commit suicide.
______
"They're going to kill him." Spread out lamely, immobile, on the floor where he had been pelted for a fourth time that day with the paralyzing stunner, Jack stared upwards, his eyes blazing with hatred and fury. While he could not move his head yet to view either Oludaran or the broadcast screen, he had been able to listen to the goings-on of the trial, and now he had regained the use of his lips and tongue. "Do something." He and Teal'c had spent an unpleasant night in this manner in Oludaran's quarters, lying there before being dumped back in this viewing room, while Oludaran had made a show of stepping over them and going back to bed to conclude his disturbed night's sleep. Whatever the man was planning for them, though, whatever his Jaffa or Goa'uld's intentions, Jack was not prepared to give up on Daniel. In spite of his lack of belief in luck, he did have a strong belief in his teammates, as dismal as the situation might seem. For once, he was glad he didn't know what Carter was up to or her whereabouts; that way he could pretend she was already working on a brilliant scheme, halfway through its enactment. Just in time for them to rescue Daniel. Any less than halfway would be too late.
Oludaran smiled. "And when they kill him, is there a reason that should bother me?"
"Damn you. You set this up, and he lied for you. What more could you want?"
Oludaran shrugged. "Only one thing, possibly."
Jack waited but nothing more was forthcoming. "And that would be?"
"None of your concern."
"Damn you."
"You're repeating yourself. Izzrek, Mazurco, take a shuttle and go collect the woman. Then drop her out into the mountains."
Jack felt his blood chill, a reflexive shiver running up his inert body. "No!" God, the helplessness.
"We can bring these two as well," Mazurco suggested almost cheerfully, expectantly, stepping over O'Neill, lingering for just a moment above the team leader as he passed his left leg over Jack's chest. Then he spit, the saliva trickling down Jack's cheek. "Oops, sorry," he smiled. Forced immobility helped Jack keep his expression static.
"Later. I may still need them. They've proven extremely useful in coercing action from their companions."
"I suppose that doesn't concern me, either?" Jack queried angrily, realizing Teal'c had still not regained his ability to speak. He found himself stifling the fear that his teammate had been given too extended a stream of tranquilizer; that, he'd been warned, would be lethal.
"Actually, it does. Are you two able to swim?"
"What?'
"You heard me."
Swim? Why? Were they going to be dropped into the lake? "I'll answer that if you stop your men from going after Carter."
This time it was Oludaran who stepped halfway over Jack. He crouched down, kneeling, nearly chest to chest, and spoke menacingly into the dry side of Jack's face. "I'll ask only once more; are you able to swim? Because if you keep avoiding the question, I'll happily let Daniel meet whatever fate they have voted for him. I guarantee you his justice will be carried out by morning, in full view of the public; these people don't believe in procrastination."
Hell. He'd answer the question, but was it best to say yes, or no? Jack decided there'd been enough lying going on here for a lifetime. While he couldn't think of any way to help Carter in this vulnerable and impotent position, he had to use every opportunity to aid Daniel, even if he trusted Oludaran about as much as an owl with a rabbit. "Yes, we can swim."
CHAPTER 18
Dialing 3-1-1-3, on LodAreda's suggestion, had brought the newscast into the little house, but the audio was only available to the person with the receiver, and that was Carter. Joartam was back in the field, but LodAreda seemed happy for the company, although she didn't quite understand the lure of the chol'rok'tal for some news that had nothing to do with the farmlands. LodAreda offered tea and fancy bread, and, for the most part, appeared quite content to spend her time doing nothing but staring at Sam and smiling.
It was a tiny globe, but functional, offering enough in the way of information. Sam could hardly believe this was what had been going on while she'd been oblivious; this was what Daniel's past days had been like. She could tell he needed to cut his usage of the perojin the way she had; his eyes were glazed and red, his hands fidgety. His throat… she'd tried squinting; more shadows? Daniel's responses had shown lack of concentration, even early in the day. Had he been able to sleep at all the previous night? Sam herself was feeling jumpy and irritable, a migraine playing hide and seek behind her eyes, but nothing she couldn't handle.
The questioning had been brutal, unfair in the eyes of those who knew the real truth, and now it was over, the vote cast. Daniel was being sentenced to… 'similar justice'? Drowning? In a mid-air shuttle collision, or by a more controlled method? No, they wouldn't destroy a shuttle and create the need for more equipment to pull it from the water; regardless of the method used, who would carry out such an appalling task? Suddenly Sam was reminded of Teal'c being blindfolded and tossed into a river in chains in a medieval village, and she shuddered involuntarily. Daniel had no symbiote to get him through something like that. No one was stating specifically what they meant, but their vagueness didn't ease the worry.
As the hearing ended, the inner globe returned to its mint greenness. Sam sat there, stunned and helpless. She had to come up with a plan; she had to find someone with a shuttle. There was no choice. She'd walk until she came to the city, if she had to. After that, she'd just have to play it by ear.
"LodAreda, what does 'similar justice' mean?"
LodAreda cocked her head, thinking. "What a person causes, is meant to happen in return. If I were to steal from a neighbor's farm, I would be required to give from my farm to that farmer."
"So if someone is seen to have caused harm to another…?"
"The same would be done to him."
"In exactly the same way?"
LodAreda began to nod, then paused and shrugged. "Only as far as it is possible."
Right. And that told her absolutely nothing. "How would they go about drowning a person?"
The question struck LodAreda as odd, her expression showing as much. "That has happened only once before in my memory, but it remains a vivid image. They locked the man under the fountain outside the justice theatre, until he stopped breathing. I recall watching the broadcast."
God. The paparazzi were sure to have a field day, tomorrow, if she didn't get there first. "I have to ask you another question, if you don't mind. Is there someone around here who might be able to fly me to the city?"
LodAreda frowned in thought, then nodded. "Supplies come in regularly, and the authorities come to buy crops. They might take you."
The authorities. She'd be able to tell them what, exactly? That she'd walked to the farm from the city and gotten lost? In spite of pessimistic thoughts, Carter's hope skyrocketed; she'd think of something. She needed to get as close to Daniel as possible. "When is the next one due?"
LodAreda smiled. "In only nine more days."
The sudden stillness was brittle. The look on Sam's face must have shown her distress, for LodAreda lost her smile, her own expression turning to alarm. "Is that not good?"
"LodAreda, may I make one more call? Uh, communications connection?" About to dial Oludaran's number a second time, she was interrupted by the entrance of Joartam.
His eyes went wide upon seeing her, not the friendly eyes of the previous day. "You have come again?"
"I needed to watch something on your information sphere." Sam desperately hoped they didn't have to pay for cable, at least not by the hour. Or long distance phone calls. "I hope you don't mind. Your wife said it would be alright."
"You are one of the Outsiders." His face became unreadable, no cheerfulness evident. Obviously something of the news had finally reached his little part of the world. Why hadn't LodAreda known? Or had she not cared?
"Yes."
"I've heard mention of public mischief."
"Some." But not by Daniel. Sam didn't know whether she could trust them to know of Oludaran's deceit. But how could it make things worse? "But not by me. Please, I need to make one more call."
"No. There is a shuttle in the air; it flies towards Arrinan."
"What?" Sam sprung up, ready to dash from the house. Oludaran's men, she suspected, worried that she was spreading the truth. Arrinan must have informed them again that she was missing. But she would not subject these farmers to danger; with the lies she'd already told, she had to keep their identities a secret. "I have to leave. Thank you for your hospitality."
If she did not return, she knew Oludaran would come after her, searching the nearby homesteads. If she didn't return, there was nowhere she could go for help. If she did return? She would at least have a chance to negotiate. She would at least be closer to the colonel and Teal'c. Ignoring the slightly pounding head and intermittent nerve tremors, Sam began to run the route back across the outskirts of the farmer's fields.
_____
Daniel had not been returned to his own room, a fact for which he was almost grateful, if one could be grateful for a broken door. Although his attacker had been taken away, Daniel had no idea if the man would be returned or sent directly to the 'station'. Yet this cell was even smaller than his previous one, and had no bed at all. So much for making a condemned man's last night a comfortable one; obviously, with judgment having passed, he no longer rated as a worthy human being. Basically an empty four-foot square glass closet, it contained nothing but a semi-reclining chair and access to basic washing facilities, and was suspended over the court house fountain and pool a good two hundred feet in the air. Twenty storeys up. This block was part of the courthouse tower and, by the looks of it, there were about fifty such holding cells around the upper section of the structure; the lower levels contained meeting rooms, justice theatres, and offices. One aspect made a world of difference, however; this room had a small front-facing wall of glass, and a shuttle pad drawbridge that he could see through. Not that he cared to look upon the fountain below… the one in which it had been hinted he'd likely meet his fate. Realizing the floor of this cell was hinged, he knew he would spend the night wondering exactly when the bottom would drop out. Still, they had told him he'd be drowned, not dropped; plunging two hundred feet into a pool didn't constitute death by drowning… did it? The morbid thought occurred to him that such a fate would, however, be as close to falling into a lake from a great height inside a shuttle, as one could engineer. An eye for an eye.
Realizing he was spending his last hours pondering what sort of death he might endure, Daniel tried to alter his train of thought. Worry for his teammates rose to the surface; he knew that given a few more hours, he would no longer be able to worry about them at all. Would Oludaran let them go after his death, or would he do away with them as well, if he hadn't already?
The day had worn thin; by the time the vote had been cast, the afternoon was late. No one had told Daniel exactly what was coming next, but he knew the gist of things. The specific details of when and how, though, remained a mystery. However, with no bed, he could only imagine that he wouldn't be in this place for too long, and, at the end of even one more day, he probably wouldn't care. Sardonically he realized that the first clue as to when things would heat up might be when the first paparazzi shuttles began showing up outside his window. Did that mean he might have until morning, or were they already on their way? They'd have to make the sky their viewing station; this window was too small to accommodate many. There wasn't even any room to pace in here; all he could do was sit or stand - or do knee bends - and watch the tiny people below and the setting sun above. It didn't seem fair, that sun oblivious to his plight, turning the sky ablaze straight to the horizon, as if this was just another pleasant day coming to an end. But it wasn't just another day; if they didn't come for him soon, this inhospitable holding cell would be his home for the night, the chair his bed. A bed with no semi-liquid perojin chemical seeping into his pores and sinuses, setting his head straight in its own mangled way. He wasn't looking forward to full withdrawal.
Yet if they did come for him, it was for only one reason, and the prospect of imminent death had no comfort to offer either.
_____
Carter could see the shuttle approaching, the darkening sky not quite blotting it out. They'd know she was coming as they grew closer, exposed as she was out here in the open, and she slowed down, catching her breath and trying to steady her heartbeat. The thought had occurred to her to remain hidden, but that might just endanger her friends. Maybe - just maybe - they were now going to carry out the task of aiding Daniel, a promise that Oludaran had made early on; maybe he really didn't intend for Daniel to die?
She watched the shuttle lower, and then disappear out of sight. The men would undoubtedly be disembarking at Arrinan's house, forcing their intrusion upon her. Well, Carter had one compensation; she might be able to safely return to the palace, her withdrawal symptoms down to a manageable minimum. She'd have to find a way to repay Arrinan for the demolished pillow, though. Did people just buy these things at the local store, or were they distributed by the government? A government who didn't even know - or want to admit - why people used them, other than for personal comfort. There was no denying they provided a luxurious and restful night's sleep.
Nervous but hopeful by the time she arrived, with darkness already hovering on the horizon, Sam had practiced her accusations and speeches on Daniel's behalf. She had to get him out of state hands before they did something irreversible.
Carter entered the house, her eyes falling on a deeply annoyed Izzrek, then on the hateful glare of Mazurco. She only hoped she had not gotten Arrinan into trouble with her brother. On second thought, she wasn't all that sure she cared. Thankful for the lack of security, she had unfortunately broken Arrinan's trust and taken advantage of the woman.
"Carter!"
Sam turned briskly towards the voice; shock forced her breath into a startled gasp, the unexpected relief and thrill at seeing both the colonel and Teal'c again, alive and well, intensely satisfying, an adrenaline rush thrusting away the remainder of her headache and nausea. "Colonel!" She couldn't hold back her wide smile. "Teal'c."
"Damn, it's good to see you." Jack took four long steps to reach her, then paused, studying her face closely. Thank God for his positive reply to the swimming question; it had delayed Carter's death sentence. The arrogance of Ollie had predetermined that no woman could have the ability to swim - a skill even few men on this planet possessed. "Oh... what the hell." He grasped her in a quick, relieved hug, then stepped back.
"It's good to see you too, sir. What happened to your face?"
O'Neill grimaced. "I owed Daniel a favor. How're you doing?"
"I'm good, sir. I think the withdrawal's gone." Almost. Not completely, but as much as necessary; she knew that another couple of nights with the quarter-filled pillow would do her good, but she could probably hide that fact from him. At least seeing her teammates had perked her up and stimulated the adrenaline.
"How'd you say you managed that? Sorry, Carter, I was a bit preoccupied yesterday." He shrugged sheepishly.
"I understand, Colonel. Puncturing the bubbles acts like a power-down. It doesn't take as long as the machine on P4X-347 did," she added, "likely because it's more concentrated. That other one was dispersing its effect throughout the entire building."
"And you're sure you're all right?"
"Pretty much, sir."
For the first time in days, Jack could feel an honest release of tension, one weight gone from his mind. Now he could concentrate on the final one. "We have to help Daniel."
"I know, sir. How?"
"Oludaran wants to make a deal."
"Another one?" Carter scoffed edgily.
"Yes, we know how well he keeps those." Jack grimaced. "But he wants something from us."
"Again?"
"It might get us Daniel back."
Sam peered intently into his deep eyes. No wonder he seemed so willing to go along with it. "What's the plan, Colonel?"
"Come. Tell you in the shuttle. We convinced Ollie you could help, too, so here we are. Glad you could make it."
_____
The sky was darkening quickly; save for the ominous fountain lights down below and reflections of street news boards flashing scenes of his hearing from time to time, night was canceling his view, locking Daniel in a dark glass cell two hundred feet above the ominous fountain, with nothing to do or look at, only his agitated mind to keep him occupied. Overhead was an opaque ceiling; stars would only be in his imagination tonight.
Daniel was stiff from sitting in that chair for so many hours; his hands were shaking, the welts on his back and arm and throat aching. His head was pounding, nerves shattered and depression elevating. All he could think was that he would go to his death without being able to speak one last time to his teammates, to even know they were all right. The thought depressed him; more strongly than ever, he wanted that pillow in his hands, under his head, a magnio bed beneath his weary body. He needed it, one last time.
His concentration was scattered, jumpy, and it took a while for the dark object to register in his awareness.
Something was approaching his window… a small shuttle, one of those dupas, or a maxi version. His heart pounded; the show was starting. Right now, though, he had to admit he'd prefer paparazzi over the authorities; at least that would give him a few more hours. Was this little one coming in the early night in order to be first in line, to get the best view, the best pictures, come morning? His stomach quivered.
The maxi dupa stopped outside his window, two dark shapes in the front seats. Tensing, he sat up straighter in the reclining chair, desperately afraid, knowing he'd rather spend the night in this chair in withdrawal after all, than in the hands of someone sent to dispose of him.
So… so. Was this it? Would he be able to convince them to give him one last request, a globe call to his friends?
No. He couldn't die for Oludaran's benefit. Jack wouldn't want this to happen. With no way of knowing whether his teammates were even alive, his might be the last voice that could ever stop Oludaran. He wouldn't be silenced this way. Was it too late for him to change anything?
As he watched stiffly from his reclining chair, for there was nowhere else to go in the room, nowhere to hide, the single transparent wall lowered outwards, creating a hovering pad, and the door of the craft drifted up flush to the wall's now wide-open space.
Daniel stood up, his back against the wall behind his chair; they would have to take him by force… or paralyze him. He was not averse to jumping through that hatch and getting the uncertainty over with, doing the deed himself with no news coverage; too bad the small vehicle filled most of the open portal. Only the small, niggling thought that such an action on his part would give Oludaran much satisfaction, stopped Daniel from further thinking of jumping. What was the difference, though? Either way, Oludaran would be relieved and cheered by his death.
"Daniel Jackson."
Daniel didn't recognize these men.
"My name is Espishoru, and with me is Benenzed. We were at your two hearings."
"Oh." The sound was almost inaudible. Eye for an eye; he wondered which family members they'd lost, and he would have apologized, were it not for the mission they'd come here to carry out. These were the men sent to impose his justice? Or were they just coming to gloat, making him aware they had front row seats to the show?
"Our brothers were injured in the rush for the treasure."
Daniel tightened his lips. Did they want this job? Had they been selected for it anonymously, like jury duty, or had they volunteered? Was there a lottery for the privilege, or what? Were they looking forward to watching him die? "I'm sorry for that. I am."
"We do not count you responsible for the foolishness of greedy men."
"Yet, you've come for me anyway."
"We've come to help you escape. We voted for you to be returned home."
"What?" Daniel's eyes lit up, and for the first time he was able to swallow some terror. Only three men had been in that section of the theatre; Daniel couldn't recall any faces. "Can this vehicle fly to the mountains of Verenko?" Shifting from the wall, Daniel was now eager to leave.
"The mountains? We are taking you to the chappa'ai."
"Yes, thank you… but not yet. My friends are being held at Oludaran's palace; I have to find out if they're still alive. We have to get to them."
The two men exchanged uneasy looks. "Your justice is to be carried out at first light of the morning, and will be broadcast to all the people. You are to be dropped into the pool below, Daniel Jackson. We must get you to the chappa'ai as soon as possible."
"I can't leave without finding my friends."
"Daniel, Verenko is too far for us to fly with our dupalon, and it is far too dangerous at night. And this vehicle can only carry four."
"I was also told these couldn't fly in the dark, but you're doing that well enough already." As had Oludaran. Come on, if they could overcome that, surely they could get to the mountains.
"It is against regulations. They do not come equipped with lights. But, as you can see, we aren't going by the rules here."
Daniel knew he couldn't leave Sam and Jack and Teal'c here and disappear; Oludaran would kill them if he hadn't already done so. But staying meant he'd undoubtedly be killed come morning, surrounded by paparazzi, on global display for this world to see. If he returned home, he had a few hours to get a rescue team involved… although they wouldn't have any transportation to the mountain, and Daniel's disappearance would anger Oludaran anyway. Damned if he left, and damned if he stayed.
Daniel realized that going straight home for reinforcements was not an option; he had no GDO. He would effectively be escaping to some other planet, and leaving his friends behind.
"I can't leave without them."
The two men stared at Daniel in growing frustration. "You will be killed if you remain."
"Do you have a chol'rok'tal?"
"In the dupalon. But it won't be safe to use it in here; frequencies at these court towers are monitored. They are prohibited from the cells."
"In case someone tries to escape," Benenzed added sardonically. "Now, how could that possibly happen, so high in the sky?" he grinned.
"Alright, take me to the chappa'ai. From there, I'll try to contact my teammates. Promise me that if they're alive, you'll do whatever you can to help them." Daniel knew he was pushing his luck; he had no right to ask this of these men. They were risking everything just coming for him.
"Explain as we go. We shall decide when we hear what has occurred."
Even in this slow-moving mini shuttle, the ride to the stargate was not long, near as it was to the city limits. However, as they approached, the dark shadows of several larger transparent shuttles seemed to loom out of nowhere. Their very structure had camouflaged them so far ahead in the darkness of the night sky.
"Turn around!" Benenzed shouted. "They've been waiting for us!" Their vehicle loyally but slowly responded to the sudden change in direction.
It was plenty of time for the four large hovering aircrafts to speed up and surround them.
_____
Oludaran was waiting in the Cadillac when Sam flopped into the seat behind him, and she tossed a disgusted look his way. Her initial surprise that the colonel was voluntarily going along with this had turned to suspicion that their CO was just desperate enough to agree to anything. With the shuttle picking up speed and traveling into darkness towards the city, Oludaran turned to face her. "So, you're joining us, I see. That might make things simpler. When the treasure is in my hands you'll be escorted to the chappa'ai."
"Colonel?" Carter stared in disbelief and incomprehension. "What's going on?"
"Ollie wants the treasure for himself."
That didn't help Sam's confusion. "We have no idea where it is, sir. Or what it is, if anything." Or how to get to it…
"No, Carter. That's why we need Daniel; he's the one who can read the rest of the inscriptions."
Oh. Sam's eyes went wide; O'Neill could see the surprise even in the near-darkness. Whether or not Oludaran realized it, whether or not he cared, this was feeding right into O'Neill's plan A. Not that he thought for a moment that Oludaran didn't have a Plan A of his own, along with Plans B through G. What Jack intended to do after rescuing Daniel, however, had not yet been incorporated into the plan. They'd have to cross that bridge when they came to it, and this time the cliché was all he could come up with. Come to think of it, however badly he didn't want to, he really hoped Ollie had a Plan A for rescuing Daniel in the first place. The archeologist was being guarded in a high-security prison block, wasn't he? The guy was on death row, for crying out loud.
"Yes sir, Daniel would be the only one who could do it," she agreed loudly enough for their captors to hear. In a low voice she asked, "How do they intend to get him out?" Sam's fleeting hopes were crushed when she saw the colonel shrug his shoulders, his face blank.
_____
They'd been traveling a good hour when the communications globe began to light up, and Oludaran plugged the receiver onto his forehead as an unfamiliar face appeared within. "Speak, Draken. Have more people arrived from Daniel Jackson's world?"
Jack threw a worried glance towards Carter and Teal'c. "They have shuttles in place guarding the stargate," he murmured for Sam's benefit.
Oludaran was speaking again. "I see. That makes things even simpler. We will come for him; guard the craft." The 3D holographic head disappeared, and Oludaran turned to SG-1. "My men have Daniel Jackson."
CHAPTER 19
Daniel and his two rescuers hovered in their dupalon, forced now to levitate just a few feet off the ground as one of the large shuttles lingered above it, another in front, and one on each side. To answer Daniel's question, this machine could not fly backwards. They were trapped.
"What are they waiting for?" Daniel asked the two very nervous men. Benenzed was wringing his hands, Espishoru reciting prayers under his breath. They were certain they would be condemned as traitors and banished. Daniel was trying hard to suppress his own internal apprehension and deepening dread; too well he was coming to know this state of extended anxiety, pessimism, and depression. He understood the tingling in his nerves, his fingers, the desire to verbally lash out and start screaming at the injustices of what had befallen him and his friends.
"I don't know. The commissioners must have been notified, and will be on their way. They must have been in their beds."
"Or they await morning, to catch your escape on the broadcasts."
Something in that statement struck a nerve, and Daniel felt his body grow suddenly hot with rage. How dare they use him for publicity. Just as quickly his temper abated; he was the one who'd begun this charade, he'd drawn the attention to himself in the first place. Why did SG-1 always have to go and meddle in the business of other worlds? Daniel's mood plummeted further, and all he could feel was sorrow for these two men. His hands were shaking, again, still, and sweat was plastering his forehead and back.
"I'm sorry," Daniel whispered. "I'm really sorry. All I've done is cause trouble."
"Yes, you have. But we didn't think you ought to die for it. Learn from your deception."
"Do you have families?"
"Brothers. Parents. We are both unmarried." Espishoru eyed Daniel thoughtfully. "This was our choice. We knew the chance we were taking, whether you deserve it or not."
"Look… just so you know, I did lie." If Daniel couldn't trust these men, then there were none that he could, and it felt good to make the decision to finally tell the truth, even if it made no difference in the long run. "I lied about my ability to read the inscriptions on the Stones."
"We know. We were at the hearing,"
"No, I mean I can read them."
"What?" Four incredulous, disbelieving eyes locked onto his, penetrating even the darkness.
"The script speaks of something of great worth, although I have no idea of what sort. I didn't get that far. I swear, I never called it a treasure."
"Once again, you lie. What is going on within you? Do you not know when to stop?"
Daniel sighed in frustration; this wasn't going to be so easy. "No, this is the truth, I swear. I lied to the courts because Oludaran captured my friends. He told me I had to claim to have lied so that his own words would be seen as the truth; he saw me as a threat about to discredit him. He was supposed to help free me, then let my friends go and send us all home again, but right now he still has them and I'm…" Daniel let the words trail off. "Look, he can't read the inscriptions; he's the one deceiving your people. All he wants is power and privileges. Along with a nice, secluded little palace where he can spend the rest of his life in luxury," Daniel added ruefully.
The two men looked at each other, not knowing what to make of this. "Your trial, it was - "
"A fabrication." Daniel bit his lip, keeping eye contact as well as he could in this lighting. "But no one else knows that."
"You did that for your friends? The ones you want to go and find in the mountains?"
"Yes."
The two men lapsed into silence.
"Benenzed… how do you fly this dupalon? How does it work?" Attentive as he'd been, Daniel could find no movements on Benenzed's part that indicated the use of a remote, and the man certainly wasn't using the controls beneath the seat.
Benenzed pointed to a small darkened circle on the glass in front of Espishoru in the passenger seat; although it was invisible in the darkness, Daniel had noticed a small blur on the "windshield", as he thought of it, of the hotel shuttle, thinking it was a defect in the crystal. "It is Espishoru who is directing. He focuses there and guides the dupalon with his eyes, as long as he wears the head receiver. It has been programmed to access the controls. One can also set the route manually if one knows exactly where they want to go; those controls are below Espishoru's seat."
Cruise control, Daniel thought to himself. "So you direct it along the laser lines?"
"No. Those are only for pre-formatted routes, and the tracks are switched off at darkness." Shuffling inside a pocket, Benenzed pulled out a bag of tiny chips. "These direct our shuttle to familiar locations; they can be programmed to follow any of the local routes. They fit into a slot in the seat below Espishoru." He pulled out a blue one, which looked to Daniel much like a camera's memory card, crystallized. "This one goes straight to my home."
Espishoru interrupted the flying lesson, but not with words Daniel wanted to hear. "A shuttle arrives, up ahead. A dupacore."
They could see it now, pulling up beside one of the others, and lowering itself to their own level as the one previously beside them shifted out of the way. It was one of the large ones, a state shuttle, such as the one Oludaran borrowed or owned. Daniel took a deep breath, and clutched Espishoru's hand. "Thank you. Lower this dupalon and open the hatch so I can get out. If those shuttles move, try to take off between them. Then just get the hell out of here, okay?" Chances were no one would follow them; these men shouldn't be sentenced to the station - and insanity or death - for helping him escape. They had nothing to lose by attempting a getaway.
"Daniel, do you want us to tell the authorities your tale?"
"No! My friends aren't safe, or I'd have done so myself."
"We'll come back for you if we can."
"Don't endanger yourselves, just get away from here. If they carry out my sen… justice… please try to find my friends. That's all I ask. But don't endanger yourselves. Please."
The two men nodded, and Espishoru grasped Daniel's hand in return as he exited the cramped vehicle, placing something weighty into his palm. "Just in case," he said. Daniel glanced down, recognizing the object; Oludaran had used one of these on SG-1 in their hotel room, how many days ago? These little weapons were far heavier than they looked. He swiftly shoved it into a pocket. So near and yet so far, Daniel thought wistfully as he noticed the stargate, backlit by the colorful fountains surrounding it, only fifty feet away.
Disembarking from the newly arrived shuttle were several people. As Daniel neared, he could see two men he didn't recognize… and Oludaran? Would the man be with the authorities, come to gloat and watch him die? Maybe it would be Oludaran carrying out his sentence; wouldn't that make the man's day.
"Daniel!"
What? Daniel swung around at the sound of Sam's voice, his senses stunned into momentary immobility. But that was definitely Sam, jogging swiftly towards him, and in the blink of an eye she had her arms draped around him. "God, it's good to see you." All too soon she pulled away, regaining her composure. They didn't have a lot of time here.
And then Daniel saw Jack, and Teal'c, standing by the newly-arrived aircraft. The relief that wiped away his inner tension and spread upwards to his face matched Jack's as surely and tangibly as those huge shuttles hovering above.
Closing the distance between them, Jack laid his hands on Daniel's shoulders. "Finally. They been treating you okay?" He placed a palm on Daniel's cheek, then set it back down on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. Even in the dark, he could tell Daniel had seen better days.
Daniel's eyes watered and his throat stung as he nodded. "Are we going home?" The stargate was near and maybe not so far, and Daniel couldn't help but hope. They had to hurry; someone might soon really be out looking for him. At this point, he was willing to take his chances with the perojin withdrawal, if it meant leaving this planet. "Those are Oludaran's men?" Daniel glanced at the bodies loitering in the shadows. So he'd kept his word after all.
"Yeah. His men." Jack understood the intense expectation in Daniel's eyes, and hated to break the news. "But we can't go home yet."
"What? Why not?" The dread that mauled Daniel's face weighed heavily on Jack's spirit. "I don't have a lot of time."
"I know. First you have some translating to do tonight. Come, we'll talk as we go."
"Jack?" Daniel's voice registered panic. "They're coming for me in the morning!" Didn't he understand? Did he know what was going on? The stargate was within walking distance.
Jack felt the helplessness. He wanted nothing more than to signal his team to run the fifty feet to that gate right now, but there were alien aircraft here, and men with stun weapons able to knock down four runners easily. An extended stream could kill, stopping the heart. They'd never even get as far as the DHD…
"Don't even think it."
Jack and Daniel simultaneously turned to see Oludaran, whose body partially blocked their view of the stargate.
"You won't get ten feet," the man warned.
Helplessly, Jack met Daniel's harrowed gaze, and he scowled. "Let's make this fast," he whispered, taking his teammate's elbow and guiding him towards Oludaran's shuttle. Jack had no idea whether Daniel could translate anything by flashlight, but that didn't really matter; he knew a few hours would never be enough time for the linguist to translate the rest of the Stones as well as enable them to dig up any treasure. Especially in Daniel's present physical state; that wild-eyed look wasn't solely from panic nor was it disguised enough to fool Jack. The bottom line, though, was that they'd at least be back together, with a few hours to come up with another plan. Nothing bothered him more than having his team separated, as they'd been the past few days.
"Remain here," Oludaran advised the pilots of his four large shuttles. "Guard the chappa'ai as before." Then he lowered his voice, muttering something to one of them that Daniel couldn't hear.
Daniel tossed a glance at his two new friends in the dupalon, lodged there, patiently waiting for the opportunity to withdraw. He owed them. If they could see that all his team was here together, that Daniel was back with his friends, maybe they really would tell the authorities what had happened. He couldn't tell if he'd caught their attention or if they'd seen his slight nod of approval, before the shuttle doors closed around SG-1.
As Oludaran's dupacore lifted off, turning at an angle, Daniel glanced out the side of the aircraft, hoping for one last look at the stargate… a mistake that froze him cold in shock, all senses excised from his body. "NO!"
Jack turned at his friend's exclamation, saw the horrified expression plastered on his teammate's face, just as an odd crackling noise was heard. Peering out the side window towards the lightly illuminated stargate, the sight almost didn't register, didn't make sense. One of the shuttles - the one perched overhead - had lowered itself to the ground, crushing the little dupalon below it.
Jack realized what he was witnessing, and gently turned Daniel's head away.
Daniel felt sicker than at any time in the past five days. The kinks in his stomach, the vulgar headache threatening to cast all sanity aside, his aching back and throat, all knotted his nerves into a mangled ball of pain and hatred. He knew it was partially the withdrawal, but mostly he was weighted with the responsibility of lives that had tangled themselves up in a simple, innocent remark claiming him able to read the Stones, and for that, people had died. Two more innocent men had just died for knowing his secret, Oludaran's way of silencing them. Crawling into a hole and marking it with a footprint seemed the most fitting place for him to rest right now, to forget about all the worlds in the vast universe that didn't play by the rules. He closed his eyes with a moan, trying to calm the nausea and crush the gloom. Behind him, Sam leaned forward to rub his arm. Daniel didn't notice.
Jack watched the reflections play off Daniel's closed face. He knew his teammate was doing his best to come to grips with everything that had happened and was happening still, and trying to do it quickly. Daniel had never been one to allow himself to give up or give in, especially when other lives depended on him. He'd subdue the effects of the past week in order to carry out the job at hand as best he could, of that Jack was confident. How much the perojin need would hinder him, he couldn't say. All Jack knew was that come morning, when authorities went to retrieve Daniel from his room, SG-1 had better be long gone.
_____
The night was black; had other vehicles been occupying the skies, the distant starlight would not have been sufficient to keep them from crashing. Why didn't these shuttles have headlights? Oh, right; people were discouraged from night travel, the authorities wanting them home in their beds to get recharged by some chemical reaction they didn't even realize was draining into their brains. Who was it who was making money off these perojin pillows, anyway?
Their module closed in on the Ostracons, visible up ahead in the darkness. The eeriness filtering to them from this distance was beautiful; the crystal Stones, at night, seemed to be floodlit from their interiors, each one its own soft rainbow shade. Jack couldn't take his eyes off them, and in the seat behind him he could imagine Carter's awed expression. Turning for a moment, he saw he was right. Both Carter and Teal'c behind him, and Oludaran's weapon-clad men at the rear, outlined in shadow, were gaping out at the pyramids. He nudged Daniel. "Look."
Daniel didn't have time to dwell on, or appreciate, the spectacle of this historical manmade creation. It was the immensity of his task that caused his breath to hitch when he opened his eyes. The Stones weren't Goa'uld; either this race had been highly advanced, passing on their technical wonders to the present generation after Goa'uld dominance had come to an end, or they had received help from some other highly advanced race. "We don't have enough time," Daniel uttered in escalating panic.
Oludaran, seated in front, overheard him. "You don't have much time. You will have enough, however, or I will return you to your cell at dawn and your friends will remain with me."
Jack tensed, his brusque remark stifled before it left his lips. He lightly brushed Daniel's hand with his own, a pitiful reflection of the reassurance he wanted so badly to offer. Reassurance he wanted to believe, himself.
Daniel tried to force himself to stop worrying; the amount of time he had was not up to him. The translating, well, that was still under his control, and he'd accept whatever control he could get. He felt Sam squeeze his shoulder in support from her seat behind and to his left, and Daniel knew he'd do whatever he could to keep his friends safe. Right; like he was good at that? The image of a little shuttle being crushed replayed in his mind, and Daniel felt the deep sorrow again seep into his being and puddle in the pit of his stomach.
Daniel remembered the weapon Espishoru had placed into his hand. The pocket was on his right side, nearest the shuttle wall. He had a clear shot at the pilot's head directly in front of him … but then what? He was too unsteady, too distraught, to knock out the other three before something disastrous happened to his teammates. Slipping the little weapon from his pocket, he lowered his hand and pressed it discreetly towards Teal'c in the seat directly behind him; he trusted Teal'c to know what to do. He could sense the very slight touch of Teal'c's fingers on his own, indicating the big guy understood, as the device was removed from his grip.
With a sudden flash of movement, a shot blasted out at Oludaran, who slumped in his seat. Whipping around, Teal'c's aim caught one of the two men in the rear off-guard, but before the rest of SG-1 could even react, a similar device in the hands of the pilot dropped Teal'c in his seat. The weapon slipped from Teal'c's grasp, bouncing off the back of his seat to the floor behind.
Her reflexes sharp, Sam reached backwards to grab for it; a fraction of a second too soon, it was kicked from her fingers. Intercepted by the man behind her, Carter was slammed forcefully across the face with his weapon.
"God!" She cried out involuntarily, the pain from the blow too sudden and shocking. Her hands flew to her head as she pitched forward.
"Carter!"
"Stay put!" The stun weapon, now pointing at him from the rear of the shuttle, was aimed at Jack.
"Don't, Keremor! We need him," the pilot shouted from up front, glancing at Oludaran, slumped in his seat with his eyes open and alert.
"Carter, you alright?" Jack was leaning over behind him, grasping Sam's shoulder in support as she held her head in her hands. The scathing look he tossed towards Keremor would have sent a spike through the guy's heart, if looks were tangible.
Daniel couldn't stop staring at the blood dripping down the visible part of Carter's cheek, from her eye to her chin, over her fingers and along her upraised arm. Those weapons were strong enough to be made of naquada. "God, Sam," he breathed. "I'm sorry." Tonight he couldn't seem to do anything right.
Sam grunted a response, which might have been anything from 'it's not your fault' to 'give me an aspirin'.
Jack shot a pointed look at him, while nodding towards a paralyzed Teal'c, slumped down in the manner of Oludaran and the other man in the rear. His glare was accusing. "What the hell was he thinking? We're a few hundred feet in the air, damn it."
Daniel whispered, although he had no reason to hide this fact now. They were out of options. "I know how to fly this thing."
"What?" Jack's head turned sharply, and even Carter attempted to peer up from cradling her burning face. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"And you'd have done what? Shoot Oludaran?"
"Da - How - ?" God, ow. Too much talking. Sam closed her eyes, hoping her cheek wasn't broken, a tiny hope awaiting Daniel's response. How does it fly?
"There's not really a remote. I mean, not like the hotel has." The remote, a tiny laser-speck on the window or a pre-programmed memory card. From a hotel or business, uploaded into the grid via a large crystal base station. "There's a programmable grid." He watched Sam, feeling her pain. She hadn't yet let go of her face, but even in the darkness he thought he could see the swelling and bruise between her fingers, and the blood hadn't stopped dripping. "Sam…"
"Where are the controls?" Jack interrupted, asking for information he knew Carter also wanted to hear, distracting Daniel from the greater despair of escalating guilt.
"Under the pilot's seat. I mean, the passenger seat. The guy on the right beside Oludaran. It lifts."
"Of course it does." Now they find out. Still, better late than never, if one liked to live by clichés. So Daniel had been taking flying lessons during his state-run accommodation and socializing. Never waste a minute, Jack liked to say. He was glad he'd forfeited those words, though; Daniel was in no mood for his frivolity, even if the intention was a lifting of the spirits by trivializing the danger. Jack hated that expression on his teammate's face; Daniel was deep in either sorrow or self-pity, or both, and Jack was fully aware that the loss of his friends back at the 'gate was a major contributing factor. He wasn't about to trivialize that or ignore it; men had died, and Daniel was blaming himself for this entire situation.
"Teal'c?" Daniel knew the man was aware, just unable to move; they'd been through this once before. "I'm sorry. It will wear off in a while." In how long? They'd seemingly been paralyzed for hours last time, and if SG-1 had any chance at all, they needed Teal'c mobile. He didn't realize Teal'c had already been through this several times since; the man knew the drill. "Thanks for trying," he whispered, facing his teammate, meeting the open eyes of his immobilized friend.
Even with Oludaran slouched across the left front seat, the gang leader's command was heeded, and the shuttle slowed down at the Stones. Business was carrying on as planned.
_____
Daniel forced his mind to concentrate. It would have helped if he'd been able to walk around, stretch muscles, feel the writing; translation work done from behind the window of an enclosed vehicle - with the reflections of internal floodlights casting shadows on the engraved symbols - would never be his easiest work. Still, when he found his attention wandering and his headache escalating, all he had to do was turn his head to see Teal'c sprawled across his seat, unmoving; Sam still with her head in her hands, pressing a bandana to her face to stop the bleeding, facing a probable concussion; and Jack, watching him with those deep brown eagle eyes that said he needed his team to beat the odds and get out of here before daylight, and his motivation returned to burn deeply from within.
Daniel had completed six Stones before being locked up; he had done one more in the past ninety minutes. There were still three more to go.
Hieratic cursive was not difficult for him. However, the shadows were causing gross distortions, an exercise in frustration, changing the shape of symbols and making the process slower than desirable. Even worse, the writings continued below the water line; each Stone remained only partially translated, even when he was finished with it. Daniel had been translating out loud, at the request of Oludaran's men and for the benefit of his own team's boredom and anxiety.
"That doesn't make sense," Keremor said.
"There's more, but it's below water level."
"Finish up the rest of the Stones. Then you can begin on whatever you've missed."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Figure it out," the gruff voice behind him snarled.
Daniel knew he'd rather not think about that right now. "May you arrive at the Field of Peace," he continued reading, "may you find treasures of wine and cakes and bread to be shared with the great lords of eternity, may you receive riches from the pillars of the wise and mighty… wait, I know this. This is a variation of phrasing from the Egyptian Book of the Dead. There's nothing in particular so far to explain why these blocks of crystal are here, though." Nothing since the first two had been translated, telling of some incredible riches within the circle of mystical pyramids.
Daniel kept reading, kept translating aloud. The time ticked away, and the two mobile men from Oludaran's gang were becoming increasingly wired. "Speed it up. We're losing patience."
"Oh, nice." Jack scowled. "We said he could read this, we never said it would be fun watching him."
"Well if he doesn't finish within the hour, your swim will be coming up regardless. Maybe you can find out what's buried down there without his help, as he's been of no use to us so far."
"Yeah, right. In the dark under water, I'm sure I can find a few coins stuck in the mud."
"The glow from the Stones will help light your way."
They could see below the waterline more clearly at night than in the daytime, thanks to the internal lighting; the crystal tetrahedrons glowed both inside and out. Those lights reminded Jack of low-watt chandeliers, the soft incandescence dispersing illumination evenly. He had been right; this water was about twenty or thirty feet deep. A good thing, seeing as he really would be going for that swim, now that other options were out of the question. He really hadn't thought much beyond the breaking Daniel out of jail part, up until the rescue part was over and they'd completely managed to miss out on the going through the stargate part. But were Oludaran and his men so obsessed and deluded to think that even if Daniel translated all of this in time, the archeology part would only take a few more minutes? Obviously there was no such thing as digging up the past on the world they'd come from; even Jack needn't have seen the incredulity in Daniel's eyes at the mention of those outrageously inconceivable expectations. More than likely, Oludaran's plan was to locate whatever treasure might be down there, and come back another night to retrieve it. Which meant that next time they returned, Daniel would no longer be with them.
Jack had been studiously keeping psychological watch over his three teammates, and it was giving him a headache. Not to mention his lack of sleep over the past few days as a major contributing factor, along with the flurry of constantly changing emotions over just the past few hours. Carter, clearly nursing a headache of her own, was weakened from the blood loss; while she'd determined that nothing was broken, minor head wounds always tended to bleed badly and looked worse than they were, but side effects such as weariness or dizziness tended not to be a good thing in a hostile hostage situation. She was definitely in pain, likely with a concussion; her eyes were being forced open but Jack knew she'd rather be lying down. Teal'c was lying down and would rather be sitting up; his eyes were roaming and his ears were listening, but just like Oludaran and the other creep, he could not move. Daniel was trying to mask his growing panic; Jack could see it in his body language, hear it in the tone of his voice and the too-rapid translations, the frustration when hitting road blocks, and the errors in his speech.
Two adversaries down, two to go. Three mobile, although only partly healthy, members of SG-1. Daniel could fly this shuttle. If there was a way to surprise that second man and grab the weapon, hit the two with a stunner, they could take this thing back to the 'gate… Jack sighed. Then what? Be captured by four more shuttles, one of which had crushed Daniel's friends like ants under a shoe.
Anyway, Oludaran was already starting to move. Looked like Daniel's rescuers didn't have as powerful a tranq gun as Ollie did.
_____
Daniel was finished. Unfortunately, there was a touch of gray lining the distant horizon, a pencil-thin thread indicating daylight would be barely a couple of hours away. "So, this talks a lot about the afterlife, which would be typical of ancient Egyptian influence. I don't think this was based on the Egyptian culture though; it seems to be more a general influence from a passing culture or possibly even of ancient visitors to this planet. These Stones were meant to harbor and protect some legendary riches sealed at their base, but I can't say if that would be in the center of the circle, or under the Stones themselves. It would have to be deep or it would have been washed away over the centuries. Even so, if whatever it's referring to is still here, it will be buried under decades of hardened mud and soil. Even if these crystals were carved far from here in some warehouse or quarry, just the fact that the writings go deeper than the water level leads me to assume that either the water was a lot lower back then, or there was no lake here at all."
It was apparent to Jack that Daniel's energy level was not suffering from his malady; on the contrary, the man was hyper. His eyes were as glassy as the crystals he was endeavoring to interpret. "And?"
"And you go in now," Oludaran announced sharply. "Bring us down."
And that was the cue for Jack's heart to speed up. Much as he loved swimming and diving, he had no proper clothing or equipment, had no idea how cold the water was, and knew nothing of what lurked in its depths or whether the water was safe to swallow or even touch. Was this a lake, with freshwater, or a sea, with salt water? Were these pyramids giving off any harmful emissions? Even with that poor excuse of a shovel Oludaran had dug up from the construction tools of his palace, how could he possibly stay under water long enough to dig anything up other than a single scoop of dirt?
The shuttle was hovering two feet above the water now, and Oludaran had the side panel open. Okay, yeah, so the doors could definitely open in mid-air. Jack had been fairly positive of that anyway, and Ollie's earlier order to drop Sam into the mountains had pretty well cleared any doubts from his mind. Speaking of which, Carter would be in no shape to join them. Hopefully Oludaran wouldn't press the point of having spared her solely for her contribution to this outing.
"Out," he ordered Jack, handing him the shovel-thing. Short handle, double pans on the end.
"You're crazy. I can't breathe underwater."
"Out. Try anything like you did before and you're all dead." He glared at Sam. "You too. Out."
"No," Jack shot back. "She'll drown, and be of no use to you."
"She's of no use to me now."
"I'll go," Daniel interjected. "You'll still have two divers."
"I never planned on you staying. You're not done with the translations."
"No," Jack's voice held a warning. "Daniel stays here. He isn't well."
"It's not up for discussion."
"It's okay, Jack. I think I can read underwater."
Jack knew Oludaran didn't hear the sarcasm in Daniel's tone.
"And I was supposed to have three swimmers; that was the arrangement," Oludaran reminded them. "Now I have only one."
"Hey, it's your man who stunned Teal'c," Jack chided.
"Just get out. You both have less than two hours to find what I want. You're wasting time."
Ollie's calmness was infuriating, but Jack was well aware there was no time to spare. If he could possibly find something buried down there really, really quickly, besides being the unsung envy of archeologists the world, or worlds, over, he might be able to get his team home. A chance, he figured, of about .0001 percent. Huffing out his irritation, he took the shovel and dumped it out the door. Then he jumped the two feet into the water, Daniel following.
Crap. So not summer yet. The water was chilly, but not icy, thank goodness. Cool, more so due to the breeze and lack of sunlight. With a deep inhalation, Jack dove down the twenty or so feet to investigate the dark lake bottom. The floodlights illuminated only a short distance from each stone, casting their radiance mostly upward. Daniel lowered his head just under the water's surface, trying to make sense of symbols magnified by water molecules. Actually, it was almost easier, except for the play of uneven lighting given off by the Stones themselves, and the unrelenting, frustrating need to breathe once in a while.
Jack popped up to the surface, gasping for air. Crap, this was insane. So he'd found rocks. Large ones, faceted, sticking out of the rubble of the lakebed. Hadn't even begun to dig yet; didn't know where to start. He held onto the nearest crystal pyramid for support and addressed Daniel. "Anything?"
"Nothing significantly important, but I've just started."
"Any clues as to where I should look?" The scowl on Jack's face was magnified by the shadows.
"What's down there?"
"Another circle of stones. Maybe not natural; looks like they might have been carved or shaped. Mostly buried though." He needed the archeologist for more than just translation work. Jack had no clue as to what he might be looking at. "Think that's what the treasure might be?"
"That's unlikely; they're rocks, right? And stop calling it treasure. Is there writing on them? How many are there?"
"A lot… I can't tell, it's too dark."
Daniel hesitated for a moment, drawing inward, his eyes down. "Dig out the one closest to that emerald pyramid," Daniel suggested, pointing. "It's the one that talks about the place of wealth at our feet."
"Okay." About to go back down, Jack paused. "Thanks, Daniel." He took a breath and dove under, immediately popping back up. "You doing okay?" Stupid question; in about an hour and a half Daniel was expecting to be handed back to the authorities who were waking up that very morning with plans of killing him. Of drowning him, maybe in a place like this.
"I'm okay. Sorry the plan didn't go so well."
"We were outnumbered." Jack took another deep breath and disappeared. Daniel took a breath of his own, and slid down closer to the base of this lavender-tinted crystalline pyramid.
_____
"God!" Jack surged up out of the water, gasping for air. Trying to stay down longer each time was beginning to wear him out, his headache nearly blinding now. Digging underwater was a hell of a lot less than easy; he'd colorfully invite Oludaran to try it out, if he had open communication with the man. Much as he loved water, this might tend to turn him off swimming in lakes ever again.
He could see Daniel tiring, eyes drooping. Maybe it was from the cold or from other things, but Daniel was also shaking, his head now leaning on one of the Stones, trying to keep afloat.
"Hey." Jack's hands on Daniel's arms were meant to hold him up, give his tired body a break from its physical strain. Daniel's head whipped up. "You done yet?"
Daniel nodded. "Yeah. Vague talk of riches and wealth to those blessed enough to make a pilgrimage here. Nothing more specific; Jack, I think they must be talking of the whole underwater area between these Stones or maybe even the lake area itself. They're just markers." Daniel slumped, then realizing the weight he was putting on Jack, he shook himself awake, trying to access his energy.
"Okay, look, we'll try to get Ollie to open the door so they can lift you back in. I'll keep at it."
"How are you doing, Jack?"
"Getting tired. But we don't have much time left; I can manage until dawn." Dawn. Usually an inspiring time of morning, now dreaded, the sky one eighth filled with a half-light. By some standards, dawn was already upon them; all they could hope was that the commissioners liked to sleep late. Looked like they'd skip the brilliant sunrise along the horizon this morning and go straight into full daylight.
Suddenly, the shuttle's panel slid open, and Teal'c plunged out, creating a big splash over them. Another shovel followed him in. "I am here to aid you, O'Neill." He looked Daniel over critically, noting the worn, pale appearance of his shivering teammate. Teammates; neither of them looked so well. While he was hesitant to leave Major Carter alone in the shuttle, Teal'c knew the time was passing too quickly and these two men could do with all the help they could get.
Daniel nodded, looking up. There was no way he could pull himself back up there; he had no concealed strength.
"T, wanna give Daniel a boost?"
"Indeed." Sinking below water level, Teal'c grabbed Daniel around the waist, then hoisted. Reaching high, Daniel caught hold of the shuttle's open panel rim.
"Help me in," he called inside.
"Are you done?" Oludaran asked from the front seat, no one lending a hand as Daniel's hold slipped. His grip was faltering; he'd be back in the water in a moment.
"Yes!" he gasped in aggravation. "Help me." Involuntarily letting go, he dropped backwards, sending a spray into the shuttle as he plunged backwards into the lake.
"Daniel Jackson." As Daniel popped above the surface, coughing, strong hands lifted him up once again; this time Keremor and the pilot grabbed hold. At least they were useful for something, even if the wrist grips were somewhat tighter and more painful than necessary.
"What does it all mean?" Too many sets of piercing eyes turned to Daniel as he rubbed a bruised forearm, dropping heavily into his seat.
Daniel ignored Oludaran, instead directing his attention to a weary Sam, her head resting on the back of the seat as she slouched down. The gash had stopped bleeding, leaving a thick red welt along a pale face. "How're you doing, Sam?"
She kept her eyes closed, and the voice was soft. "I'll be okay, Daniel. Starting to feel better, but Teal'c wouldn't let me come down. How's the colonel doing?"
"Yes, what has he found?" Oludaran scowled impatiently. "I asked you a question; what does it all mean?"
Daniel turned sharply to their captor. "Whoever disturbs the protective spirits down there will rot in hell, actually."
"You lie." Oludaran pointed his weapon towards Daniel. "And I don't need you any more."
Daniel's heart jumped. "Yes you do. If they find us, and I'm dead, they won't believe you can read the Stones. I told too many people the truth about you."
"They won't find you. They'll think you're hiding out somewhere in the mountains or forest. They'll hunt you for the rest of their years."
"Daniel," Sam whispered. "Just tell him what he wants to know." She looked up, her eyes holding fear and compassion. At least she seemed alert.
"She's a smart lady," Oludaran smugly stated.
"More than you'll ever know. Fine. It says something about riches and wealth to anyone who can complete their search. It's this whole area, not one specific spot. It would take weeks to excavate the entire place, and that's only with the proper equipment."
"Your team leader and his Jaffa backup have under an hour. Then we're leaving here."
Daniel swallowed, his insides churning. Even if Jack and Teal'c could keep up this nonsensical charade for another hour - and Teal'c wouldn't let Jack fail or let anything happen to him, of that Daniel was certain - they wouldn't find anything in that length of time, and of that he was certain as well. "And then?"
"And then, you go back to your cell, and your friends come back with me to try again tonight, and every night until we've got what we came for."
"The authorities will kill me today."
"Not my problem. As I've said, I don't need you any more." Oludaran shrugged.
Daniel glanced down into the water, now not as dark and the Stones not as brightly lit, to see the head of Jack rise above water level. He was holding onto a pyramid for a bit longer this time, shovel in one hand, his head leaning against the structure as Daniel had done. Conflicting sensations were roiling around in Daniel's gut; he wanted this to be over so Jack and Teal'c could join them. He didn't want this to be over, for then he'd have to face the Council one last time. "You said you'd let us go home."
"That was on the condition that you find what we came for. Instead, you've been useless."
Now, somewhere deep inside, in a place he kept shoving back down, was the fear that instead of his teammates being taken back on board that last and final night with or without something to show for their endeavors, Oludaran might just take off and leave them there, in the water. For, at the end of all this, he'd no longer have any use for the swimmers either, would he?
_____
Haste makes waste. Jack knew all the clichés, but knowing and heeding were two different categories of human wisdom. Daylight was flooding in too quickly, his energy depleting too fast, and accomplishments coming far too negligibly. Jack had soon found himself becoming overly frustrated. Shoving that… shovel… into the gravelly ground with as vengeful a force as one could manage under water, yet making barely a dent, he'd ripped something inside, pulled a muscle, torn a tendon, something, and inhaled sharply with the sudden flare of pain in his abdomen. But inhaling under water was not a wise move, for in a split second everything was fading and breathing seemed a remote, unattainable pleasure.
Suddenly finding himself on the surface, coughing, choking, gasping for air through a sore, stinging throat, coughing up water and grabbing for some solid material to keep him afloat, Jack finally realized he was staring into the eyes of a concerned, frowning Teal'c. It was also Teal'c who was holding him up, pinning him against one of the Stones.
"Have you sufficiently recovered, O'Neill?"
"Wh - " Jack broke into another round of coughing, his headache pulsing with each heave. "No," he finally gasped out.
His breathing slowing and coughing spasms finally subsiding, Jack took a deeper breath and tried again. "What ha…happened?"
"You were drowning."
"I…" After more coughing, he tried again. "I swim, Teal'c. I dive. I don't drown."
Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."
Jack sighed deeply, taking a few slower breaths. "But thanks anyway."
"You are welcome. If you are well enough, I will return to my job."
"Yeah. You do that." Jack took one look at the sky and knew there was no sense in going back down. Not with this muscle strain, anyway; he'd just drown again. In just a few minutes, Oludaran -
A head appeared in the open panel. "Time's up." Keremor was motioning to Jack to grab the ledge. "Inform your friend."
Jack closed his eyes; he couldn't go under again. Couldn't get Teal'c and leave and take Daniel back to the authorities. Wouldn't let it happen. He had his team here together safely, more or less; he had Oludaran. Somehow, they had to get free, right here, right now. Maybe if the whole team just jumped down into the water and stayed put… but if Oludaran chose to zap them, they'd all drown anyway.
Teal'c emerged for air, his eyes suddenly narrowing. "O'Neill."
"Yeah, they want us back inside."
"That may not be wise."
"I know it's not wise, Teal'c. What choice do we have?"
"I am referring to the approaching transport."
Swearing, Jack shifted his position, turning to the object of Teal'c's attention. There in the skies a huge shuttle was incoming.
Oludaran had seen it too, too late to take off without being noticed. Could he outrun a state patrol? "They've discovered you're gone," he snapped loudly at Daniel. "You took too bloody long." That calm façade seemed to be wearing thin.
They were already out looking for him. Daniel closed his eyes, feeling Sam's hand gently rub his arm from the seat behind.
"Go!" Oludaran ordered his pilot. "If we're caught we'll claim they hijacked us, that those two in the water didn't believe Daniel's confession at the hearing."
What? All of a sudden Daniel felt movement; the shuttle was taking off, picking up speed. "What are you doing?" he cried out, peering down and behind them as the forms of Jack and Teal'c receded into the distance.
"Shut up." Oludaran was concentrating on the panorama ahead.
Where the hell were they going?
That was a question Daniel might not have wanted answered. His stomach lurched as the shuttle dipped towards the lake and rose again, sharply u-turning and speeding head-on towards the pursuing state transport. Directly in its path, they were approaching nose to nose at an alarming speed. Oludaran was going to crash… intentionally. "You're crazy," Daniel muttered, unable to take his eyes off the two modules closing in on each other. His hands gripped a seat that no longer curled tightly enough to keep his tense arms from pulling forward.
"Daniel," he heard Sam from behind, but couldn't bring himself to respond. They were all going to die, taking the occupants of the other shuttle with them, leaving Jack and Teal'c stranded in a lake.
Suddenly the state transport swooped low, plunging towards the water, caressing the air underneath their own module as it slipped by below them. Now headed back towards the city, Daniel caught another glance of his two teammates as Oludaran's shuttle sped back past the Stones. Jack and Teal'c were staring up at the air show in horror.
Oludaran, however, had no plans to retreat. Again u-turning, the shuttle criss-crossed the sky, aiming straight for the state module once more, then cutting sharply away. Was he hoping to get them to crash, without damaging his own craft in the process? Daniel tried closing his eyes, hoping it would ease the pressure on his roiling stomach.
Sam already had her eyes shut. She could still feel the loops and turns of this shuttle, the downward plunges and upward surges, finding her colossal fear combining with admiration and wonder at the capability of this machine, and the skill of its pilot. Much as she'd give anything to study it and fly under less dire, intense circumstances, she did not want to witness the impending, inevitable head-on collision. Sensing Daniel's terror, she pulled her arms free from the support of the seat and placed them on Daniel's shoulders, just above the seat in front of her. Seatbelt restraints would be useless when this thing smashed into an oncoming module at two hundred miles an hour.
_____
"What the hell are they doing?" Jack stared in shock at the staggering insanity taking place overhead. "He's going to kill them all!"
Teal'c had no response, nor could he deny what seemed inevitable. The shuttles were engaged in a remarkable battle of skill, and seemed in no hurry to end such lunacy. Oludaran had much to lose; perhaps he would rather choose death above surrender.
The pursuit continued, each module showing incredible speed and swiftness in movement. While Teal'c suspected the state believed the runners would grow tired and capitulate, he worried for his friends, knowing Oludaran would never give up. The arrogant man would be feeling himself superior, believing he and his men could outlast and outplay all who challenged him.
His trance was diverted as O'Neill suddenly lost his grip and sunk under the water. About to dive down, Teal'c grabbed his friend as O'Neill's head popped back up. The man's face was pale and weary. "O'Neill, you must hold on." No one was getting them out of there any time soon.
"Thanks for the advice, Teal'c." Jack's voice was as tired as he looked. Yeah, he'd hold on, even with the continued cramping in his abdomen; he was determined to know the outcome of this outrageously dangerous air evasion while he was still alive. "God! Teal'c?" Jack's breath caught, his heart lurching. Oludaran's vessel was nose-diving. Those shuttles weren't waterproof; the dead bodies from the treasure hunt had proven that. Was there a malfunction, or was the man just insanely suicidal, finally realizing that he couldn't take the law enforcement transport down with him?
_____
"Oh my God." Leaning her head forward on the back of Daniel's seat, Sam continued to clutch both of her friend's shoulders for emotional support; his, or hers, she wasn't sure, but she wouldn't let either of them plunge to their deaths psychologically alone. Daniel's hands lifted, enclosing her hands in his.
The shuttle was taking a dive, the water nerve-wrackingly close. The state shuttle passing overhead, their own was closing in on the lake, a lake curiously shallow and cluttered with rocks, a lake that had already swallowed several crashed transports in the past few days. None had survived those collisions; most had drowned in a flooded shuttle whose door panels would not respond underwater.
Carter felt Daniel's grip squeeze her fingers tighter as the nose of the module hit the water. With a stomach-wrenching upward thrust, throwing the unrestrained occupants violently forward and then back, the module skimmed across the water, bouncing like a small motorboat on high waves, then evened out and slowed, rising slowly. Sam had let go of Daniel, herself being thrown around in her seat, fearing whiplash. That, however, was nothing, compared to the alternative option of being dead. The state craft pulled in sharply and stalled to hover in front of them, disallowing a spurt of speed which would be necessary for Oludaran's vessel to gain height. The pursuit had come to an end.
Daniel leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, giving full attention to settling the nausea in his stomach. Muscles stiff and weak from the tension, his shaking hands rested in his lap, unable to move. Breaths that came in gulps seemed insufficient to keep him from passing out. Until, that is, he heard the pfft of a weapon, and he forced his head up and his eyes open. The pilot was slumped in his seat, and Oludaran was pointing the device towards the rear of the vehicle, when a spurt of energy blasted past his face, and then another. Daniel took a deep breath, steadied his buzzing head, and turned around. Both Keremor and the man beside him were down, but Sam was sitting up in shock, gaping.
Then Oludaran lifted up his seat to expose the controls, crept onto the front floor of the module, and turned the weapon on himself. The device slipping from his hand, he slumped to the ground and lay there, immobilized but awake.
Daniel paled at the realization of what was going on. He and Sam looked like hijackers. Insane hijackers with a death wish, willing to eliminate anyone getting in their way.
CHAPTER 21
Teal'c and Jack climbed wearily aboard the government vessel, feeling only relief that their teammates were still alive. They'd deal with all else later. For the moment, however short that moment might turn out to be, they were still together. The onboard communications ball, using the number Jack gave them for Oludaran, was attempting to contact Oludaran's shuttle, but there was no reply.
"You are certain this is the correct number?"
"We are indeed," Teal'c concurred.
"They're not answering."
"That's because Ollie's up to something as usual," Jack spat the words. He'd had enough of this crap. How dare the man - for lack of a better classification - treat his teammates' lives so recklessly; when this was over he'd wring Oludaran's neck. The pilot's, too, while he was at it, along with that other jerk Keremor who'd pistol-whipped Sam. He might even search out Mazurco, although he'd let Izzrek get away undamaged, seeing as he'd inadvertently helped Carter beat her perojin addiction.
"If we pull this shuttle up to their door, they may take off again."
"Yeah, that'd be my guess," Jack agreed darkly. If that happened, he so would rather be afloat in the water than in this module. He hadn't envied Daniel and Carter their joyride, and he had no desire for any of them to participate in a reenactment.
Again accessing the chol'rok'tal, State Regent Traglamand dialed more numbers. An unfamiliar face lit the ball's interior. "Send out another shuttle to the Stones, Commissioner. We have a stand-off."
State Regent Russiolo turned to his two captives. "You were in the water for what reason? Looking for treasure?"
"Yes."
"But there is no treasure."
"You're telling me?" Jack shook his head. No kidding.
Traglamand put away the device. "Backup is on the way," he informed his four colleagues.
"Look," Jack began. "Oludaran wanted the treasure - or whatever's supposed to be down there, 'cause no one really knows - and brought us here so Daniel could finish translating the inscriptions. He used us because we can swim. He took off in that shuttle the minute he saw you guys coming."
The State Regent huffed in frustration. "You absconded with Daniel Jackson, which is the first crime on your part."
"Hey! Daniel's innocent. He can read the Stones. Oludaran forced him to lie about it by kidnapping the rest of my team."
"Daniel Jackson has been sentenced for his part in the deaths of the treasure hunters."
"Daniel Jackson did not have a hand in the attacks that took place at these pyramids," Teal'c stated matter-of-factly.
"He was responsible for inciting the riots, knowing well that he had lied to the people."
"Oh for crying out loud. Daniel was - "
"The people have cast their vote. It stands."
"Crap. You're not listening." All along, Jack had been counting on the truth eventually clearing Daniel's name, if they couldn't get through the stargate by other means. This, however, was worrisome; if these people were too inflexible to even listen to the truth, they were all in even more trouble than he'd realized.
"Whether or not you are in collusion with Oludaran, who claims - "
The speech was cut off by Mistkludoci. "The commissioner approaches." A second shuttle was coming in from the rear.
As they observed, it halted by the right-hand door of Oludaran's module. It was several moments before someone inside opened the panel. None of them could see just what was going on in there, until the communication globe activated, and another face familiar to Jack and Teal'c appeared. They'd seen this guy onstage during Daniel's hearings.
"Commissioner? This is State Regent Russiolo. Is the situation under control?" After a silence understood only by the one wearing the receiver, Russiolo nodded. "Acknowledged." The globe went dark, and Russiolo turned to Jack and Teal'c, his expression indignant. "You absconded with Daniel Jackson, which is the first crime on your part," he repeated. "You hijacked a shuttle and incapacitated its occupants, which is your second crime. You've come here to - "
"Wait a minute! We hijacked nothing and incapacitated no one." Jack's temper was igniting under these newest accusations. Maybe they'd helped Daniel escape, although technically they hadn't done that either, or harbored a missing so-called criminal, but the rest of those presumptions were just plain ludicrous.
"Oludaran's men are all down."
What? That had not been Daniel or Carter flying that thing. "My people can't even fly a shuttle." Well… Daniel claimed he could, but even in his perojin-deprived state, he wouldn't have gone that nuts… would he?
"You've come here to steal for yourself whatever you believe lies below the waters, making us wonder again about Daniel Jackson's lies. You've come during the night when air travel is restricted - "
"Oludaran's in that shuttle, which ought to tell you that he believed Daniel and wanted the treasure for himself. He can't read the script on the Stones, but Daniel can. You're building him a palace and giving in to his slimy manipulations at the expense of your own people." Jack's brow furrowed as the government shuttle in front of them took off, with Oludaran's following. This one, too, began to slowly move out.
"Oludaran knows there is no treasure. Daniel Jackson has confirmed the deception in the theatre of justice."
Jack heaved a deep sigh and tried again, emphasizing each word. "That's Oludaran's shuttle. He's right there in it."
"Incapacitated. The shuttle was stolen. A weapon lies at his hand."
What? Ollie was down too? "At his hand? Not in Daniel's or Carter's, right?" Wasn't that a clue?
"It was obviously placed there to deceive."
Oh for crying out loud. This was going nowhere. Jack shook his head in disgust. Had Oludaran actually zapped himself? Or had Daniel really snapped? Jack realized that if even he was having doubts, they were all in very big trouble.
"Daniel Jackson was forced to lie to protect us from Oludaran," Teal'c chimed in for a second attempt. "We have been held captive at Oludaran's palace for several days, throughout Daniel Jackson's hearing. Oludaran is the man you should be investigating."
"Well, I see that as a clever story; however, the truth is that Daniel Jackson was helped to escape from his cell and has been found in the presence of his accomplices. We are bringing you all into the Justice Station. The People's Council of the Assembled will decide what to do with the rest of you, and Daniel Jackson's justice will take place as scheduled."
"If you want accomplices, go check the starg… chappa'ai," Jack blurted. "Oludaran's people killed two men last night."
_____
Back in a holding cell, for some reason with the rest of his teammates, Daniel practically fell onto the bed in his still wet clothes. This room was larger than the last two, with a heavily locked door leading into a small, circular elevator shaft. The bed was the shape of a glove, with five fingers spreading out from its center. Feet met at the palm; heads were positioned in the fingertips. There were no gelled pillows here, though, and throughout Daniel's body, nerves burned too much for sleep to come easily.
Jack stretched out on another finger of the bed; there was nothing else to do in here but sit on the floor, or pace around, and around, and around each finger, then back again, and the thought of doing that made him dizzy and nauseous. So, instead, he closed his eyes and tried not to think. His own wet clothing was sticking to his body and irritating his skin. Soggy, frustrated, aching, and disgruntled, Jack was thankful for only one thing; so far, Daniel was still with them.
Teal'c was preparing to kel'no'reem. While he no longer needed to commune with a symbiote, he found the meditation uplifting. It would be, however, for only a short period; in this unsettling state of affairs, he preferred to keep watch over his teammates.
Sam sat on the floor against the wall; sitting on the bed was too uncomfortable with nothing to lean against, and she was too wound up for sleep. Her head had stopped pounding and was now down to a thick throb; still, in case she did have a concussion, she didn't think sleep would be the best thing. That death-defying ride still had her adrenaline rushing, and the implication that she and Daniel were to blame for overseeing those dangerous maneuvers was not only outrageous but deeply troubling. It would be Oludaran's word against theirs, and the state authorities already didn't think highly of Daniel, nor did the public. While Oludaran had eight or more men on his payroll to willingly verify his fictional story, the only two men who had come to believe in Daniel were dead.
CHAPTER 22
It was mid-day, and they still hadn't come for Daniel, nor had they tried to interrogate the rest of the team. The archeologist was lying on his bed, unable to remain asleep for any length of time. His headache had grown unbearable, his clothes were still slightly damp, his back was throbbing, and his heart was beating way too fast. Disturbing images kept invading his daydreams: Oludaran enjoying his palace; a death-defying shuttle ride; aggression in the streets of Luok'shuo because of a chemical called perojin. Daniel found his anger waging war with depression.
"Daniel."
Daniel ignored Jack's quiet call. All he wanted to do was stay asleep. All he could do was think, and thinking kept him awake.
"Daniel?"
"What!?" God, he hadn't intended to snap. Jack didn't deserve to be at the receiving tip of his bad mood. Daniel knew he ought to be thrilled that he hadn't been crushed beneath a heavy shuttle, or dropped into a pool from two hundred feet up, or otherwise eliminated, yet. He ought to be ecstatic that his teammates were safe, at least for the time being. If he didn't hurt so much inside, if his thoughts weren't like acid burning canals into his cortex, he might be able to be thankful for all that.
"I told them everything."
Daniel was silent, processing the information. Everything? Hostage-taking. Courtroom lies. Would they believe him? "They'll just think it's another tale. It's Oludaran's word against yours."
"Maybe not. They caught us actually looking for the treasure; why would we do that if you hadn't been telling the truth about the Stones in the first place?"
"So you think that's why I'm still alive, at the moment?"
The question caught Jack off guard; his teammate had been lying there trying to figure out why they hadn't come to kill him, yet. "I think that's why you'll still be alive tomorrow." Or was that just wishful thinking? The state regents had made it clear that judgment had already passed and would be upheld, no matter what.
"Not if they listen to Oludaran's side of things."
"Which is? How can he possibly talk his way out of this?"
Daniel groaned into the bed as Sam wearily responded. "During the daredevil flight, sir, Oludaran said they'd claim hijacking; that you hadn't believed Daniel's story to the courts and had broken him out so he could finish the deciphering of the writing and help you find the treasure. They're saying we three - well, the two of you; I'm just a woman - planned the whole escapade and Daniel only went along with it in order to escape."
Jack froze. Well… he hadn't seen that coming. "Crap. But now when they ask Daniel, he can back us up."
"I will. But they haven't come to ask me, Jack, have they. And it's at least eight against four. No, more than that; Oludaran had at least eight men in those shuttles at the gate, and three in his own."
Daniel rose from the bed, steadying himself from the sudden dizziness, quelling the nausea. His whole body ached, stung, and bit. Three teammates watched in concern as he sat down by Sam, his back leaning lightly against the window. Ow; he'd forgotten about that welt. But maybe that was just the tightness of his muscles and wet clothes on his skin, not the result of a pipe attack. He could no longer tell the difference.
"Daniel." Jack had another comment.
"What?" Daniel didn't know what brought on this irritation with Jack; other than wanting to be quiet and left alone to think, he was well aware of the tension in this small space, and he knew how badly they were all trying to cope. At least Sam had kicked the perojin habit; lucky for her. Was that jealousy emerging? Damn them for not giving him a magnio-perojin bed… how long had it been, now, anyway?
"Look at your hands."
Daniel looked down at the hands in his lap; they were shaking badly. So were his knees… in fact, he now realized, he was shivering all over, and the more he tried to stop, the worse it became. "Oh."
"Daniel." That was Sam's soft voice. She reached over, putting her arm around his waist and drawing him a tiny bit closer. He was slightly damp, and he was cold, but that wasn't nearly the whole problem.
Jack watched them sit that way for a few minutes, before turning over in his bed. Uncomfortable in his own damp attire, his throat still stung from his near drowning and his head pounded. Except for Teal'c, who was deep in meditation, his whole team looked miserable. Good job, O'Neill, he chided himself. Nowhere to go now but up.
_____
After stepping one notch down.
They came that afternoon for Daniel.
The heavy, locked door at the end of the room opened to reveal eight armed guards standing in the elevator. Eight? Did they think SG-1 was such a high security risk? Jack wondered. Two entered, lifting Daniel under the arms as he tried unsuccessfully to stand. The rest of SG-1 had no option but to watch.
"Where are you taking him?" Jack demanded.
"Council wants him."
"You'll be bringing him back, right?" The nervously asked question hung in the air, dangling spindly recriminations in front of three teammates. Daniel seemed out of it, pathetically oblivious, until quite lucid eyes glanced off those of his teammates and they saw the raw terror and resignation deep within. Daniel thought they were taking him to his death. So did they.
"No idea. It's not up to us." The guards made sure no one would attempt to follow, as they shut and barred the panel from the other side, leaving the rest of SG-1 with nothing to do but stare at each other.
"He's in no condition for more questioning," Jack stated lamely.
"Indeed."
But no one had said questioning was their intent.
Sam's eyes did nothing to disguise her state of alarm, but she contributed neither words of wisdom nor consolation.
_____
They were directing him into the private chambers of the High Commissioner, Ad Aldebrite. Daniel felt himself being propped up and steadied yet again; it had been this way in the elevator and through the two glass hallways lined with crystal flowers. Nothing about him felt right but the fear; that, he knew, was keeping his adrenaline pumping, and that was keeping him in a panicked state of awareness. Halfway into this miserable ten-storey journey he'd realized he hadn't said good-bye to his friends.
"Wait," he mumbled now, the presence of seven senior officials doing nothing to intimidate him further; this was too important. "I have to go back up."
Commissioner Broerderen smiled wistfully. "Not now, Daniel."
"You don't understand. I forgot… forgot to do something important." I forgot to say good-bye. Please.
"Have a seat."
Knowing standing for another minute was out of the question anyway, Daniel dropped into a pillowed chair. Pillow? He tried to lift an edge to check for possible perojin bubbles, but the pillow and chair seemed to be one and the same. What the hell was he doing?
"You don't appear to be well."
"What's the difference, if you're going to kill me?" Daniel retorted caustically.
"Kill is a harsh word for justice."
"Semantics. I still end up dead."
"Why were you at the Stones last night?" Commissioner Baskelele demanded.
"Oludaran forced us to search for the treasure." Words were tumbling over each other, and Daniel hoped he was being understood.
The response was more of a statement of disbelief, than a request for clarification. "You were searching for treasure."
Hadn't he just said that? Daniel may have been groggy, but he was pretty sure he'd said that. "I was translating. He wanted me to finish translating." Had he already said that too? Why couldn't he stop shaking?
"But you can't read the writing, Daniel Jackson. You admitted that in front of several thousand witnesses," Commissioner Bendawaight reminded him.
"I lied."
"Which time?"
"Which time what?"
"Which time were you lying? When you said you could read the Stones, or when you said you couldn't?"
"My head hurts."
"Are you still lying?"
"God. Not now." Daniel leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. He really didn't want to pass out here, nor did he want to be sick. He wondered vaguely if passing out would lead to death, the way it had after P4X-347. "Oludaran had my friends. He didn't want me telling your world that he'd been the one lying to them. He can't read the writing, he isn't going to lead anyone to salvation or whatever it was he promised. He just wants that palace and a position of power." He was mumbling and breathing hard; could anyone understand him?
"And you claim that this is the truth now. How are we to believe anything you say?" Whichever one of the heads was talking now, Daniel didn't even know. They could all have been speaking for each other, it made no difference; they were all thinking as one, and Daniel couldn't bring himself to lift his head up.
"I don't know. Please, I'm going to be sick. My head hurts. I need a perojin pillow." I need a fix. God, does that sound bad.
The questions stopped abruptly as seven heads turned to stare. "Whatever for?" Commissioner Baskelele asked.
Daniel sat there for a moment, his head still down, rubbing his eyes. Talking hurt. What for? Couldn't they see by looking at him? "I'm in withdrawal." He slowly straightened up, a little. With drooping eyes, he looked into their truly confused faces. "Withdrawal. Sickness from the addictive qualities of the perojin."
Commissioner Aternasp shook his head. "You continue to be delusional. We have no idea which words of yours to believe any more."
Right, they just saw him as a nutcase. Right now, he must look like one. Daniel sighed, then took a breath and sighed again. His eyes closed; keeping them open was far too much trouble. If he could just lie down on the floor, he might be able to ease some of his discomfort. Tempting as the thought was, though, Daniel forced himself to remain upright; he needed them to listen. "The powered magnio beds you sleep on work in conjunction with the perojin in your pillows, producing a heat reaction that causes," he was forced to slow down, taking a few breaths, "the solution's residue or vapors… to seep into the skin and sinuses. This in turn alters one's brain chemistry. While you just think of it as comfortable, it's also addictive. It makes people aggressive and depressed who go too long without it…. You've all been addicted so long your babies are born with it already in their systems, so it doesn't affect you the way it affects me." He needed air. Breathe deeply, he advised himself. Breathe.
"Your companions are not affected."
The pause was too long; he hoped they didn't think he was trying to make this up as he went along. No, he just needed to catch his breath and settle his nausea. "They weren't exposed. I mean, Sam was, but she found a way around it."
"I see."
"No, you don't. She punctured the gel bubbles a few at a time until she didn't need them any more. That's all you have to do to stop most of the aggression in your streets. It's also why so many of your criminals die or go insane." Too much talking; his body was about to give up. Daniel knew he was losing the fight. The thought of dropping to his knees and lying down right at the base of his chair was becoming too enticing.
Commissioner Bendawaight spoke quietly to the others. "This is what he told me in the theatre."
"What he needs is a shad'ro'ben kal'nod."
A restorative support technician? "No! God, no." It was almost a whine, a frightened, tearful plea. "What I need is the perojin solution."
"And will you go insane if you aren't treated?" Commissioner Aternasp asked sarcastically.
"Maybe." Or did they think he already was? "I don't know. Probably. I haven't been exposed as long as they were. But what's the difference if you're going to kill me?"
"That won't be happening this afternoon. We still have more questioning, and you barely seem capable of sitting up straight. For now, be returned to your room."
So, he'd get to say good-bye after all.
_____
The rest of SG-1 had spent a nervous afternoon keeping watch out the window at the courthouse tower across the way, and the fountain below it, dreading the impending sight of a body dropping to its death from an upper cell. They had observed the comings and goings of several shuttles, as though something was in the works, yet even the paparazzi seemed not to know all the details.
In spite of the momentary adrenaline rush, Daniel was in a dismal state when he re-entered SG-1's tiny chamber. Even the surprised, relieved smiles on his friends' faces at the sight of him couldn't alter his mood, and he dropped quickly onto the bed.
"Daniel. What happened?" Sam's voice came from a long tunnel, far far away…
"No idea," he mumbled into the rubbery bed sheet. "But not killing me today."
"Oh." Jack grinned. "That's a good thing."
"For some of you." No more talking. Daniel wanted to pass out now, thanks. Even the cold wet cloth pressed onto the back of his neck didn't feel comforting. He'd spent too long being wet already.
The panel in the wall opened once more, but this time only four guards appeared. The small space of the elevator was filled with what they were now trying to push into the little room - a narrow magnio bed, complete with gelled bubble pillow. There was no longer any space in the cell to pace at all, as the new addition of furniture filled the area between the last finger of the bed and the glass wall. No one, however, had any desire to complain.
"Daniel." Jack gently shook his archeologist as Carter thanked the men profusely.
"No." The word was a breathy mumble into the bed sheet.
"Daniel. Look."
"No."
Teal'c tossed the pillow to Jack, who pressed it down beside Daniel's face. "Look. That's an order."
Daniel forced open one eye, then sat up far too quickly, his stomach churning. For a fleeting moment he thought delirium was causing him to hallucinate… except Jack and Sam had odd smirks of satisfaction on their faces. It made Sam look creepy, with that gash down the side of her face. Something was wrong with Jack's cheek, too, but Daniel knew his eyes weren't focusing well today. Where were his glasses, anyway? He hadn't seen them since that last day in the hotel room. Groaning, Daniel grabbed the pillow; where had this come from? Was he dreaming? Not caring, for a perojin-filled dream would be better than nothing, he shoved it under his head and dropped down on top of it.
"Uh, Daniel." Jack shook his friend. He'd have chuckled, if the situation had not been so dire, and his teammate in such discomfort. "Daniel, wrong bed."
"Leave me alone," was the muffled mumble that came from the pillow.
"Daniel," Sam's voice was soothing. "It's not working yet, is it?"
No, it wasn't. Daniel forced open another eye, as he felt himself being lifted up by strong arms on either side. He barely noticed himself being rolled forward, his feet landing on the floor, or half-hobbling the two steps to another bed, where he immediately passed out and slept for the next nine hours straight.
He never even felt Teal'c gently lifting his head or Sam pulling out the pillow from under him, as three teammates took turns punching out and piercing the first quarter of gel bubbles with the narrow end of the eating utensil that had come with it.
They all had their first truly good sleep in days, awakening in the improved frame of mind needed to put up with the cramped conditions. There was nowhere to move, nothing to do but sit in bed and wait. For what? Thinking that this was the day Daniel might be taken put a quick damper on things for all but Daniel; at the moment, he was still asleep, and that was a good thing.
_____
When the panel again opened, it affected them all with a mixture of relief and dread.
"Daniel," Sam whispered by his ear, stroking his arm gently, avoiding the large purpling bruise they'd all taken a moment to stare at and many more moments trying to ignore. For now, they'd neither ask about that, nor the more indistinct one across his throat. "Daniel. You have to wake up."
Daniel sleepily turned over. Where was he?
Three guards were standing there. "The commissioners want to see you. Come now." A food tray was deposited on the palm end of the bed, which SG-1 could now see functioned perfectly as a table.
"You'll be bringing him back, right?" Jack asked cautiously, making it more of a suggestion, a light order, than a question.
"We don't know of their plans,"
This time, a much healthier-looking, alert and upright Daniel remembered what had meant so much to him the previous day. He met his teammates' anxious eyes. "Good-bye," he said, his blue eyes doleful and sincere. "Just in case, I want you all to know…"
"Daniel - "
"No, Sam. Let me…" but he couldn't finish, as his eyes moved from Sam to Teal'c to Jack. "Good-bye." He turned and left with the guards, his teammates staring morosely at the closing door before heading back to the window to keep watch over the courthouse tower.
_____
They entered the same chamber as the day before, but it didn't look all that familiar to Daniel. Sitting on the same chair, he wondered how he could possibly have thought it might contain perojin.
"You feel better today?"
Daniel eyed the questioner; there seemed to be no ill intent, no sarcasm. "Much." Do you only carry out justice on those who are healthy enough to feel the fear?
Eyebrows lifted. "So you were telling the truth about the perojin."
Daniel knew he was living, visible proof, if they hadn't believed his words. "Yes."
"What do you say today about the Stones?"
"I can read them. They're in a language we call ancient Egyptian and the script is hieratic cursive. It's an ancient form of writing that isn't used on my planet any more but I've studied it."
"So what do the Stones say?" Commissioner Lomneken leaned back in his chair. A pipe would not have looked out of place in his fingers.
"Most of them speak of life and death and the philosophies of the society that put the Stones there. They mention names of a few rulers and prophets, and respectable ways to live one's life. Then there are three Stones that speak of some sort of wealth for all who find the path to the Blessed Circle." The reference had at first reminded Daniel of the stargate, but the sections that followed had seemed to be talking specifically about the pyramidal circle in the lake.
"Oludaran disagrees." High Commissioner Ad Aldebrite reminded him.
"Oludaran's a liar and swindler. He's also a kidnapper." Then Daniel added one more to the list. "And a murderer. He ordered his men to crush my friends in their dupalon at the chappa'ai the other night."
Glances were exchanged between the seven officials. "We found it. The occupants of the four shuttles explained that they were out looking for Oludaran, and had come across the damaged dupalon."
Daniel's temper flared. "They were guarding the 'gate, uh, chappa'ai, so more people from my world wouldn't come looking for me and my team. I witnessed them crushing the dupalon with the two men inside. So did my friends."
"I see. What were you doing at the chappa'ai?"
Daniel paused. Was there anything he could possibly say that wouldn't incriminate him? Did they suspect he'd been responsible for the two deaths? Sam was right; it was Oludaran's word against his, and he'd been the one caught escaping. The rest of his team was in this as deeply as he was now, thanks to Oludaran's fabricated story; what could he say that wouldn't point a finger at all of them? Yet, they hadn't done anything wrong. Telling the truth still felt much better than lying, and it was a heck of a lot easier. If they didn't want to believe him, then at least his soul could rest from having tried. "I was going to go home and call for help. Oludaran still had my friends."
"Daniel Jackson. How did you get out of your cell?" All eyes were on him; all but the slightest of movements in the room ceased.
Espishoru and Benenzed were dead; they could not be punished now. "The two men in the dupalon came for me. I didn't know them; they said they'd been at my hearing and didn't think I should be put to death."
"And yet, you went to find this so-called treasure for yourself, instead of returning home. What changed your mind?" The tone was skeptical. Daniel doubted anyone was believing a word of this.
"No. I went to find it for Oludaran, so he'd let us go. I had no choice. He arrived at the chappa'ai with my friends as hostages. He threatened us all." Daniel looked around; was anyone buying this? "That's when he told his other pilot to crush the dupalon."
"I see."
"Do you?" There was too long a silence in the room now, and for the first time, Daniel wished someone would say something. "I was not flying the shuttle in the chase over the lake, and neither was Sam. I've never piloted a shuttle in my life." There was some self-conscious rustling, some downward glances, but Daniel couldn't read any of their reactions.
"We may have more questions. Be returned to your room for now."
Daniel was beginning to feel like a yo-yo, but it was better than feeling dead. And maybe by next time, he'd have come up with a better good-bye.
_____
"What happened to your face?"
Jack stared blankly at Daniel's inscrutable expression, at the man looking him squarely in the eye. "You just noticed?"
"I've been sick."
"It's nothing. What happened to your arm?"
"Nothing." Daniel turned back to the window.
With his second return, the team had begun to have some hope for Daniel, although being stuck in a cell with no way out didn't actually bode well for any of them. Boredom was at its height; the word hit well over ten on the scale of understatement. Sleeping or staring out the windows were the activities of the day; pacing didn't have a place, nor did exercising. For privacy they would have to go to the locked but otherwise communal lavatory three feet from the foot of the glove bed. They had seen no other prisoners, and seemed to have the little washroom to themselves. Perhaps no one else was sequestered on this level; maybe this section was solely for small groups such as their own.
Daniel was feeling and looking a lot better; Carter seemed to be over her addiction, from outward appearances, and her headache had nearly disappeared. The massive bruise and cut running down the side of her face contrasted with her skin, however, giving her a tired, sickly look and throbbing cheekbone. Talking hurt. Daniel seemed to avoid looking at her; he avoided the team as a whole, a rather difficult endeavor in the limited space of the cubicle.
"How long can they keep us cooped up here?" he asked the window.
"At least two days," Jack contributed. It had been two days, right? Or was it a year yet? He'd been in close quarters with his teammates before, but this was ridiculous. And sometimes he'd had cards.
Back in the middle of the city with glass walls around their bed, they could see the fountains and parks and projection units that looked like scoreboards. Units that were operating and could be seen from a distance, as the daylight again grew dim. The only ominous structure was that court tower; its foreboding presence kept reminding them of the sentence hanging over Daniel's head.
"Oh-oh."
"Oh-oh? Care to elaborate?"
"Is that us?"
Jack and Sam rushed the five steps or so to the window, and Teal'c approached more slowly from behind. "To what do you refer, Daniel Jackson?"
"Big scoreboard. Two o'clock."
They could see it now. Daniel's face again, and then the rest of SG-1. The Stones, and shuttles crowding each other.
"Looks like they're replaying old news."
"Rehashing the whole situation." Daniel agreed. "Now that they're questioning me again."
"And Oludaran." There was Oludaran's face now, saying something that was probably another whopping lie. Never mind 'probably'; lying would be his natural state of being.
"They're using him as a reason to postpone my… justice." So that's why they hadn't come back for him yet.
"As long as they don't believe everything he says."
"Why would they believe us, Jack?"
"Stalemate works too. How can they kill you if they aren't a hundred percent sure?"
They watched, but could discern nothing more until mealtime.
Food was brought to them for the second time, enough for four. Soup, bread, cold meat slices, water, and something that compared to a melon-sized soft apple. Satisfying enough, although meals were being kept at two per day.
"What's going on out there? Seems we're on the news again." Jack addressed either of the two guards, assuming they'd claim ignorance once again. This time, however, he was rewarded; they seemed happy to gossip.
"People are swarming the Stones, looking for treasure."
Four members of SG-1 stared in disbelief. There was an audible gasp.
"What? Again?" Time warp. Déjà vu. Hadn't they been through this?
"It appears that way. The Council has advised that Daniel Jackson's hearing vote may have been premature. They question Oludaran now." The man shrugged.
The second guard chimed in, just before leaving. "There has already been one casualty. The people are more frenzied than ever, knowing you were out there the night before last and beginning to dig."
"Crap. Isn't that just…" Jack shook his head in disgust, turning away as the panel shut and locked. He caught the look on Daniel's face, just before his teammate turned back to the window. A look of discouragement and repulsion. "Daniel?"
After a moment of silence Daniel spoke, still keeping his face out of view. "I'm starting to think speaking multiple languages is a curse."
"It is not, Daniel Jackson."
"Daniel," Carter grimaced at the throb as her cheek muscles flexed, "the people here are responsible for their own behavior. You have no control over their reactions." She moved to stand beside him, noticing the repeat broadcast of the news not too far in the distance. Other scoreboards, farther off and appearing smaller, were displaying the same shots. "Your ability to speak so many languages is a gift, and one we couldn't do without."
"Major Carter is correct, Daniel Jackson. The people of this city have chosen to ignore the consequences of their previous actions."
"And that means what?" Jack interrupted. "That people will die out there again, then go blaming Daniel, so the state can invest in another trial? We've already lived through Groundhog Day, Teal'c. Once was enough."
This time Daniel hoped someone would come and get him, just so he could be the one asking questions. But night came, the sky fell into darkness, and SG-1's restlessness was put to bed, their frustration and agitation taken out for ten minutes on an innocent gelled pillow. Tonight, the pillow was only half full when Daniel finally lay down to sleep.
_____
Morning saw the four of them called down to the council chamber this time, together, listening instead of responding. The bottom line was refreshing; for now, pending further investigation, Daniel's sentence was put on hold. Jack reviewed the points in his head, already formulating Plans A, B, and C.
Long stories short, from what Jack had gathered, the Assembled had a few doubts about Oludaran. They had doubts about Daniel, too. However, SG-1, with Oludaran, had been found at the Stones, SG-1 in the water, and that was too weird to ignore. They had some sort of testimony from a farmer who claimed Carter had been seen running towards Oludaran's shuttle and Izzrek's sister's house. The connection meant Ollie might be lying about not knowing Daniel after all, when he claimed Daniel had stolen his shuttle. Might also be lying about not asking him to lie. Big point, score more than one point: dupa thing with two men inside, crushed possibly by Daniel, or more possibly by Ollie's people who gave no good reason for hanging around the stargate. The dupalon men's friends were clamoring for justice. Bad for Ollie. They knew the two men had gone for Daniel, and testified to such; Daniel therefore had no ship of his own, and no motive for killing them. Score big one for Daniel.
And the final point that made Daniel look not so much like a liar: he'd seemingly solved his medical problem with the simple little perojin pillow, which none of them had believed in the first place. And that was too weird to ignore, too. Jack pursed his lips in thought, barely noticing his teammates' somewhat more relaxed postures, only vaguely noticing Carter and Teal'c surrounding Daniel, speaking quietly, and Daniel nodding.
Plan A - Do nothing yet, and see where this goes, hoping more SG teams don't show up quite yet to complicate matters further.
Plan B - Escape somehow and try to walk to the 'gate, then leave for another planet which doesn't require a GDO.
Plan C - Steal a shuttle and get Daniel to fly to the 'gate. Or Carter, now that she knows what to look for.
Plan A was looking like the way to go, at the moment. Jack tuned in on those next words; they inspired optimism.
"… so we are banning all access to the Stones while the state investigation takes place. As we don't know how long this will take, you will be moved to a more comfortable room."
Jack's head perked up but his mood didn't follow. Still prisoners, just higher class ones.
_____
"Saved by the pillow." The very thing that had caused Daniel so much mental and physical disharmony and distress, had come to his rescue at the time of greatest need.
"Hmm? What?" Daniel's distraction was shot to hell with Jack's seemingly irrelevant and meaningless remark.
"They started to believe you because of the pillow."
"Oh." Interesting, the way the universe worked. Daniel nodded.
"So. State investigation, what's that mean?" Jack was disinterestedly pacing the larger room, doing so mostly because he could. This cell had a similar five-fingered bed; this one, though, magnio powered, with a single perojin pillow, although Carter had asked for one too, to the others' stunned silence. She'd looked sheepish, apologizing for not being entirely truthful, guaranteeing another day would fix her, and had proceeded to jab away at the gel bubbles, leaving just a few intact. The room also had the usual communal washroom, larger this time, with its internal circle of several locking doors. What was different, however, was the large semi-circular glass wall surrounded by lots of walking space, and two small benches with backs to lean against. Much more comfortable than the other storage closet cell. Lots of light coming in this time, too, and a view they'd've killed for, had this been a hotel. No cooking facilities, but room service, twice a day. No TV or communications globe, but hey, they had the distant viewer screens, and trying to read lips helped pass the time. This was a haven compared to the past few nights.
The one very, very disconcerting thing - actually, there were many of them - were the news shuttles hovering outside their window again. SG-1 just assumed they were paparazzi; they could have been curious fans or lunatic murderers, but one thing they weren't were guards. There was nowhere for SG-1 to go; these windows didn't open with any panels or hatches. Maximum security? The only exit was through the narrow locked door - again leading into an elevator - beside the washroom. A fact which, for some reason, seemed to make Daniel very nervous.
Jack could've sworn this was where it had all begun.
"Run by the state. Legal. At least this time we won't be sneaking out to get over to the Stones," Daniel said, his back turned to the spying reporters as he thought back to that day in the hotel, so so long ago now. Months. Alright, days, but it seemed like a lifetime.
"Meaning they want to find the treasure for themselves. Claim it for the state."
"I'm pretty sure there's no treasure, Jack." No, Daniel had seen something else down there in the water, and was beginning to put two and two together.
The panel opened, and there stood four guards with Commissioners Merzeyiah and Lomneken. Daniel remembered them from the sentencing. "Please, come with us."
"What's up?" Jack, remaining where he was, tried out his most nonchalant persona although he was really, really fed up with all this back and forth nonsense. His people had told the truth; now, just let them go home. His team took his cue, even Daniel, and stayed put.
"We need you for the dive at the Stones. We know you can swim."
Oh crap. Not again. Jack could hardly grasp the implications. He was definitely beginning to hate the thought of plunging into a chilly lake, not to mention the digging. For some odd reason, it seemed as though few people on this world could swim. Another restriction of some sort, like flying at night? "I dive, the rest of my team goes free."
The incredulous looks they sent his way squished that plan like a bug on a sidewalk. "No-o. We don't need you. There is something there Daniel Jackson needs to read. If he truly can." The doubt and skepticism didn't get past Jack.
Okay, Daniel wasn't going alone, that was for sure. The colonel shrugged. "It's called negotiating back home. Had to try. And by the way, we're all coming." As he headed towards the door he turned around, making sure his whole team was following.
CHAPTER 23
Here they were again, only this time they were doing it legally. Machinery, equipment, sticking up from the water, and lots of shuttles up in the sky, none of them fighting for a turn.
"Paparazzi?" Jack questioned. The shuttles had symbols on them.
"I think those are numbers that let them know when it's their turn to move in for a closer look," Daniel explained quietly. He was settled between Jack and Sam, with Teal'c behind him. This shuttle seated twelve people, three to a row, and all the seats were filled. A true shuttle bus of the skies; the others had just been mini-vans in comparison.
There was something below the waters that Daniel needed to translate, they had told him. Oludaran had been invited along, but stated he could not swim. Jack had muttered that swimming wasn't all the liar couldn't do. The man's game was coming up for review, and he knew it.
"I'm going in with you," Jack stated.
"As am I."
"I'm going too," Sam assured him. They were a team and they were sticking together from this point on.
"I have no idea what they could want me to translate. I've read it all already."
"They wouldn't know what you've already read," Jack reminded him. "They have no idea what any of it means."
"I told them I'd completed it all."
The water looked different; there seemed to be a greater number of dark spots, boulders, under there than had been apparent the other day. But then, shadows and sunlight could play tricks on the eye.
As the shuttle found its position, Commissioner Lomneken turned to Daniel. "There is writing on the objects that have been unearthed. Give that your full attention. We'll bring you up here every twenty minutes for a ten-minute rest."
"So… no chance of diving gear, eh?" Jack took note of the puzzled faces around him. In a land where, for some reason, no one knew how to swim, they had no idea what he was talking about. "Didn't think so."
Déjà vu. Jumping into the water from a height of four feet, Daniel dove down… and nearly made the same mistake as Jack when he saw what had been exhumed. Stifling an underwater gasp, Daniel shot back up to catch a bit of air.
His teammates were right beside him. "Daniel?" Sam questioned, worried. "What is it?"
"Go have a look." As Daniel held onto the nearest pyramid, he squinted up at the shuttles. From this vantage point, they looked like elongated entrants at a hot air balloon festival.
Plunging into the water, it was only moments before his teammates re-surfaced. "O-kay," Jack was the first one back, followed closely by Sam and then Teal'c. "This gonna be a problem?" The state excavation crews had definitely been busy. To those in the shuttles above, the four heads bobbing in the water looked like they were conspiring.
"Those are the sarcophagi of the ruling or maybe even middle class. Not Goa'uld," Daniel reassured them.
"So…?"
"So I'll go back down and see who they belonged to." Under he went, with three teammates following. The rhythm continued that way for the first twenty minutes.
Daniel wouldn't say anything to the authorities during the breaks, just kept telling them to be patient. He had a feeling they thought he was bluffing; their irritation was becoming visible.
By the sixth time up, nearly three hours after beginning this newest quest, Daniel had had enough. "I'm done," he announced. They would not enjoy what he was going to say. "I'm ready to go back to the Council."
Allowed to dry off with a change of local clothing, the SG-1 males arrived at the council chamber in their thigh-length white shirts and wide flowing pants. Soled moccasins replaced soggy boots. Carter had had a choice of the same or a long sweeping skirt; she'd opted for the skirt.
"You were able to read the boxes?" Expectant looks focused on Daniel.
"I was. They're burial boxes. Sarcophagi. Coffins. There isn't much writing on them, but what there is talks of the individuals within and their families." No treasure. They were never going to believe he'd been telling the truth about the writing.
Heads nodded, murmurs ensued. "We know. Two were brought to the surface and opened, expecting valuables to be inside. Instead, we found bones." This, though, they had not told Daniel Jackson. If he could not read the writing how would he have known? The boxes had all been locked, and had to be pried open with tools; those still on the lakebed remained sealed. What was clear to them all, now, was that Daniel was capable of reading the writing. When presented with some of the symbols, Oludaran, however, had claimed vaguely that they told of valuables within; the presence of such large buried boxes indicated treasure, did it not? Oludaran had taken the chance that Daniel had been right the first time.
We found bones. The words echoed in Daniel's brain. He looked at Jack, knowing the same concerns had crossed his CO's mind. Daniel still could not justify his earliest translations or explain what that so-called treasure might have been. No, wealth; they had been the ones to call it treasure.
Daniel now felt he'd better tell them at least part of it. "You did find treasure. I mean, your ancestors did." Daniel could see a spark of anger flit across some of the eight faces of the seated men, men in colorful robes who had the power to provoke listeners with their accusations, to attract news media like squirrels to nuts. He'd better explain quickly. "The Stones told of wealth and riches… treasure was the modern interpretation. Most of the writings spoke of the afterlife, and peace. In the words on the Stones, 'Those who find their way to the written word' - meaning the circle of Stones themselves - 'will find everlasting wealth'. Those were the words, but it meant peace and wisdom in death, a path to the happiness of the afterworld. That's what was most important to them at the time, not material possessions. Their words were symbolic; the Stones form the boundary of a sacred site, the writings are their philosophies of life and death. Anyone seeking everlasting happiness and wealth in the afterlife would venture there, like, like a sacred place, a pilgrimage to be at one with Creation. That was their discovery; that was their treasure. They went there to be buried. The circle is nothing but the boundary of a graveyard." Only, there was one more thing that Daniel would never, ever disclose to them.
"So you were not mistaken?" They'd found more than just sarcophagi; they'd found skulls and bones protruding from the mud itself. This was a place where many, many had been buried.
"Only in your modern interpretation of the ancient words," Daniel cautioned.
"You can read the words. We see that now," Commissioner Broerderen acquiesced.
"So we can leave?" That was Jack. Plan A was working like a charm.
"Soon. You must report what you know of Oludaran."
"We've told you everything," Jack responded bluntly. Everyone at home knew how much he hated repeating himself.
High Commissioner Ad Aldebrite didn't seem satisfied. "Is there no more?"
"No," Daniel cut in. "He was defrauding you. He kidnapped us, and forced me to lie to the people. That's all. Except… he killed my two friends." The image was burned on his retina like a curse.
"Oludaran is being charged with deception and kidnapping, and the pilot of one of his guard planes with murder," the surprising words issued from Commissioner Baskelele. Jack's jaw dropped. "We can offer you extended accommodation at his palace; however, the structure now belongs to the state."
That caught Daniel off-guard. "Uh… no, thanks. We just want to leave. Maybe you should turn that palace into an observatory or something," he shrugged.
"Wait, we do need something," Jack cut in. "Four more nights at the hotel."
"Why would you wish this?"
"Daniel is only halfway through his pillow."
"I see. Yes, about that. We will be informing the people as to how to reduce their need for perojin during the night. We expect that some will comply, others will be unwilling, for those pillows are extremely satisfying. It will not be easy to change one's habits or desires; I, myself, will have to consider the issue. In the meantime, those who ignore the night curfew and subsequently commit aggressive acts will be dealt with harshly. The usage of perojin will be investigated and perhaps, in time, production will be halted."
Oh. So, Jack's theory about the state intentionally raking in the money had been off the mark. They truly hadn't been aware of the side effects of the chemical and what it had been doing to the people. The fact that those pillows and beds had been used solely because they were comfortable truly surprised him. Then again, he hadn't tried the combo himself; the comfort theory had been accepted readily by Daniel and Carter.
This time it was Teal'c who spoke up, his voice alarmingly concerned. "That would be unwise."
"What? Treating our people as responsible for their actions?" Scopeglio frowned.
"I do not refer to your justice system. However, were you to disconnect these people from their need for the chemical, they would be subject once again to the same slavery by the Goa'uld that your ancestors made certain to displace. It is likely that the Goa'uld will one day return to check on this world, one which offers such temptations and freedom."
"They left your people alone on Luok'shuo only because they were of no use to the Goa'uld in their addicted state," Daniel backed up his teammate. While leaving these people addicted when there was a simple solution left a bad taste in his mouth, possibly leaving them as prey for the predatory race was an even worse evil. Much as he hated to admit it, sometimes, as Daniel had learned from Jack, it was impossible to help everyone. "What you can do, though, is provide the beds and pillows up on the captivity stations."
The Assembled sat in silence, privately pondering the speech. Then, after a lengthy, whispered discussion, they turned to SG-1. "We have much to consider. Our transport will take you to your hotel room. Do not leave without letting us know."
"Wait. There's one more thing I'd like to ask for," Daniel said. "I want to talk to Oludaran."
_____
Home sweet home. Sort of. To a glass fishbowl above the water tank, that is, with fountains below, billboards parading their faces on the news, and paparazzi shuttles outside their windows. At least there was a ton of space in here, and an assortment of benches and beds to lie on. None of that pillow crap, though, except half of one for Daniel. And a replacement for Arrinan; Carter was counting on being allowed to offer one from this room. Hopefully one of the commissioners would agree to deliver it. SG-1 had also been allowed to contact the SGC, who'd been gearing up for search and rescue, the team being a day late for check-in.
"They can see us, can't they? I mean, these windows aren't tinted or anything?" Jack aimed a few rude Tau'ri gestures towards the windows, then pulled his hand back down, hoping that wouldn't end up on the six o'clock news.
Teal'c was watching him with amusement; Daniel with annoyance. "If they couldn't see us, what would they be waiting for? It's not as though they'll catch us leaving from up here, if they're out there blocking our way." The hotel shuttle was still parked in their room; their packs were as they'd left them days ago. Now that they knew how to control the shuttle, they did not feel so trapped, although, come to think of it, stealing a hotel shuttle might not be good publicity. No sense pushing their luck.
"Lights," Jack told the room, as the blue wall began to fill with a soft white light. That, he thought, will never grow old. He'd missed that, in the cell. He'd missed fake light period, the cubicle having grown dark as soon as night fell. Daniel, though, had had it far worse and for much longer. At least in the palace there had been artificial light from Oludaran's chamber below. Now, he wondered if he could get it just a bit brighter in here. "Brighter," he said, but nothing more happened.
"How about 'stronger light'?" Daniel suggested.
Suddenly the wall began to flow with light… and flow it did. The bluish-white light poured over its surface, swirling to the floor, along the bottom edges of the wall, pouring and streaming and cascading seemingly outwards as if it were a tangible mist -
"Whoa! Tell me that's not…!?" Fountains of light; colorful, swirling, entrapping them in a mesmerizing deadly trance in another time, another place, and the memories surfaced far too easily, far too hauntingly. Euphoria, depression. Headaches, tempers, fear; suicide, sickness. An entire team dying.
"I don't think so, sir!" But expressions turned to shock and postures stiffened rigidly in spite of the doubt.
"Shut it off!" Jack shouted, as both Carter and Teal'c called "Lights out!" simultaneously, while Daniel just stood there, staring.
The flow diminished, and within a moment only the soft light within the blue wall remained.
"Crap. That's not going to hurt us, is it?"
"I think it's just for show, sir. Entertainment of the guests." Carter didn't sound convinced… or convincing.
"That's what we thought last time," Jack grunted. He so did not want a replay of P4X-347.
"Maybe it's just meant to enhance the mood for anyone already addicted to perojin," Daniel suggested. It had taken him an extra moment or two to shift back into neutral gear after that show, even though the light had been only shades of a single color this time.
"That a guess, or are you pretty sure?" Jack tried not to scowl at his scientists.
"We only asked for light, sir, not - well, nothing more."
"Uh huh. What did we ask for last time? And, by the way, when you and Daniel went to bed, didn't you only want sleep?" He let it go, though, knowing they had no further answers, and if there was anything more ominous in the room it should have affected him as well, without the flowing lights. Anyway… they were going home. If any of them were addicted to that wall, well, they'd just gate over to P4X-347 and get unaddicted there.
Jack looked down into the fountain below; while it didn't hold the same awe as it had the first day, it now represented something even greater: freedom. While they'd been ordered to check in with the Council before leaving, Jack chose to believe that they wouldn't be detained once they decided to go. As soon as Daniel was completely better they would do just that; he had no desire to hang around any longer than necessary. That thought caused him to search out Daniel; the archeologist looked almost back to normal, just a bit more ragged and worn. Better to be safe than sorry; Carter had said she thought it would take two more days at least, with an extra couple to be on the safe side. The way Daniel had looked two days ago, he would soon have needed one of those underwater burial plots.
"And I thought our cemetery plots were extravagant." Jack said out loud, to a roomful of odd facial reactions and no one in particular. "What?" he asked innocently. "Think what that would've cost, buying a plot of land in that underwater Stonehenge. Dollars to donuts those few elite didn't end up getting any more joy from it than someone buried in the family garden."
"You're right."
Jack squinted at Daniel, his head cocked slightly to the side. "I am?" He grinned. He liked being right. Even more than that, he liked being told he was right by either Carter or Daniel.
"Yes. First of all, there are more than just a select few of elite buried down there. There may be a limited number of sarcophagi, but I suspect there were hundreds of bodies in that circle. Most would've disintegrated by now, their skeletons broken up over the centuries. And as for what you just insinuated, the seekers didn't reach the nirvana they were hoping for."
What makes you say that, Daniel?" Sam looked up curiously from her notebooks as she sat on the bench, her legs crossed under her. Her bruises were fading but still disconcerting to her teammates, and Daniel turned his head away. He didn't want to see the pain that he had caused.
"The Stones weren't just a place to be buried. They were a place to go to die."
"Plan on explaining your theory?" Jack was surprised he was still listening; usually he'd tune Daniel out after his opening words.
"I saw something inside those lit pyramids the other night. When I was under water. The real so-called treasure, Jack, is inside them."
Jack's eyes narrowed, his mouth dropping slightly open Daniel-fashion, before he caught himself and put his neutral mask back on. "Inside? And you didn't tell anyone because… you didn't want them breaking those headstones?"
"Daniel Jackson did not tell them because he did not want them to discover what remains within the pyramids."
"You knew about this?" Jack turned to Teal'c. "You told Teal'c?" he swiveled back around to Daniel.
"No. You saw?" Daniel asked Teal'c, as surprised as Jack.
"Indeed."
"How come you didn't mention it?"
"Why did you not?"
"I was thoroughly obsessed with trying to subdue my withdrawal symptoms before they killed me." Daniel smirked slyly.
"And I was deeply involved in my concern for you."
Touché. "Okay, kids, this is sweet, but what the hell are you both talking about?"
"O'Neill -"
"Jack - " Both voices sounded simultaneously, and Teal'c bowed his head towards Daniel. "Jack, inside every one of those Stones - or headstones, you're right - "
"Hey, that's twice in one night!" Jack grinned smugly at Carter.
Daniel stared at him for a moment, finally deciding to ignore the interruption. "Inside the inscribed pyramidal headstones, way down at the bottom, I noticed some sort of mechanisms. They looked suspiciously like the workings inside that light device on P4X-347. The one Sam, Teal'c and I figured out how to alter."
"And I didn't recognize them because I'd never seen the original, right? And Carter didn't go into the water that night."
"That is correct."
"No sweat, I'm on a roll," Jack grinned.
"That is not what I meant."
"Anyway," Daniel tossed them both an aggrieved look, "That whole area was dry land at some point in the distant past. I assume that when the apparatus is turned on - accessed from entry points at the base of the Stones, I think, which are at the moment filled with lakebed mud - the crystals flow with the same kind of brilliant lights and colors as the one we saw in the palace by the sea. These, however, were probably the originals. Although likely not the original builders or creators, the Goa'uld who once ruled here had the design copied on 347."
"Where they'd be waited upon by slaves," Jack added, knowing he was right yet again. "You're saying that circle of ten pyramids would have been flowing all over the place with that light? Up and over and all around?" His team had been mesmerized by just one.
Daniel nodded. "Solar activated, aided, of course, by the pyramidal shape. Imagine how amazing it would have been, with all of them turned on at once. It's not hard to believe people thought of it as a magnificent, mystical place to, um, visit."
Jack peered down at the fountain below their room. Hadn't Carter mentioned that all the fountains and pools in all the parks had originally been for more than just aesthetics? They would have made for one hell of a spectacular light show.
"So what you said about them going there to die…?" Sam asked.
"Yes; I think even before the Goa'uld were here, people made the trek - a pilgrimage - to the circle, maybe just out of curiosity at first, and just like Loren's parents, they probably stayed until they died, finding themselves unwilling and unable to leave. They wouldn't have had food, or sleep. Or, um, some may even have gone with the intention of dying there, for whatever reason. Maybe it was originally intended as a joyful and serene sanctuary for people with terminal illnesses, the place of 'riches and wealth'. Few would have come back alive unless they were Goa'uld, who, as I said, probably weren't even on this planet at that time. Maybe the Goa'uld came because they found out about the sanctuary. Most people would only have known about the site from tales, and they'd be longing to make the journey to see it for themselves. With all the bodies rotting away there, or maybe even too many Goa'uld starting to hang around, the local leaders at the time rerouted a nearby river and flooded the place, thus eliminating further usage. Then the Goa'uld went and built the little one on 347, sending their addicted slaves back to this planet to dry out or die. They may originally have taken people from this world as slaves, but when the babies started to be born addicted too, for a reason unknown to the Goa'uld, we know they could no longer take these people to be used for their own needs."
"So the people made it taboo to visit the Stones," Sam finished for him, understanding, "or even to learn to swim, because they knew what would happen if they started fooling around with the mechanisms again."
"Until the modern inhabitants forgot about the Goa'uld, and the reason for the taboo, built vehicles that could fly to the site, and became obsessed with the writings."
"And the perojin?" Jack asked.
"It's probably derived from whatever they used to achieve the visual and hypnotically sedating effects of the sanctuary. So, adapting it into the pillows helped them overcome P4X-347, without being obvious to the Goa'uld. And by keeping it a secret, even from the general public, there was no way anyone could inadvertently alert the Goa'uld to the perojin usage."
"Thus allowing the inhabitants to free themselves without once again being forced into subservience by false Gods," Teal'c contributed.
"Right. Perojin production continued, handed down from generation to generation, with little thought given as to the why or what or how. It was just accepted as a traditional necessity perfected by their ancestors."
"So that circle was meant to be off limits forever, wasn't it?" Jack concluded. "And the real reason for the nighttime curfew was forgotten."
Daniel nodded. "Until Oludaran and I came along." Bowing his head, Daniel looked as though the addictive device was his fault. "So we won't tell them about the devices in the pyramids, okay? Or they'll want to try them out."
"And the cycle will begin again… and we've already seen these people don't even learn from recent events." Jack agreed.
Teal'c was watching out the window as the paparazzi shuttles began to slip away as darkness replaced sunset, first one and then many following. In the distance, on a projection unit, was the face of Oludaran. "O'Neill. Perhaps now you would like to practice your ability to read lips from half a mile distant."
That was a cue to Jack to come and see something irresistible. As he sauntered over, he said, "Ya think Oludaran's going to get what's coming to him?"
"Unless he can talk his way out of it," Daniel said quietly, not too certain that wouldn't happen.
"Well, he's sure as hell not going to implicate you in anything, Or the rest of us. And by the way, why do you want to talk to that slimy good-for-nothing cretin?"
"I just want to get some things straightened out."
"Like why one of his men is walking around with a symbiote?"
"What?" Daniel swung around to better see Jack, his eyes wide.
Jack nodded. "You're not going alone, by the way. Get some sleep, Daniel, and when you wake up tomorrow tell me you're fit to go home."
Daniel nodded, and curled up on the bed, the last quarter of a perojin pillow not as comfortable under his head as it had been that first night in here. The fountains below their feet weren't as arresting; the stars above still held wonder but the thrill of being under them while lying in bed was no longer as captivating. All Daniel wanted to do was get this over with, and go back to his own bed and foam pillow. "You know, if one good thing had come of this, it would have been worthwhile. If we could break these people's addiction, or have given them a sacred site that was actually meaningful…"
His teammates heard the wistfulness reflected in his voice. "We came, we saw… we hopefully got rid of Oludaran," Jack added with an optimistic twinge in his tone.
"That is correct, Daniel Jackson. Such an individual might have become a powerful entity on this world."
"Falsely," Jack added.
"Indeed."
"You also made them aware that the pillows are needed in the cells, right? Daniel?"
But Daniel was asleep.
CHAPTER 24
"You sure you want to do this?" Jack still didn't know if talking to Oludaran was a good idea. As long as the scuzzball's plans had been thwarted, what difference did anything else make? Still, in the nagging place at the back of the mind that houses all niggling concerns, Jack was mostly afraid that they'd uncover some nefarious Goa'uld plot, and the people of Luok'shuo ought to know. It was for that reason only, that he didn't do a better job of trying to talk Daniel out of this.
"No," Daniel nodded. With a wistful grin, he said, "You're sure you want to come?"
"No. May as well get going, then." Patting Daniel on the arm, he nodded for Carter and Teal'c to wait in the shuttle while he and Daniel disembarked into Oludaran's now-open cell. If the two men needed them or their two government escorts, he'd let them know. They did, after all, have their radios back. Not like it was any distance from the shuttle to the cell; Carter and Teal'c could watch the goings on right from their seats a few feet away, even if they couldn't hear the whole conversation. With a momentary wave of pleasure, Jack noted that the cell was just a tiny room, nothing in it but a little perojin bed and a door that likely led to a communal lavatory. The glass walls were thick and opaque. Fitting place for a guy who'd thought himself worthy of a multi-million dollar multi-storey multi-shuttle towering glass palace. He who throws stones, and all that… Daniel, on the other hand, seemed to be looking around in disapproval; didn't Daniel know how to gain any satisfaction from legitimate retribution?
Oludaran was staring at them in contempt. "Why do you think I'd want to speak to you?"
Daniel cleared his throat, trying hard to keep eye contact with the brash individual before him. "Just tell me why you took advantage of these people, and we'll go."
"Why don't you just go now, and save us both the time?"
"Oh right, like you have anything better to do in here," Jack scoffed. "Face it, you're probably enjoying the diversion."
Oludaran stared, then forced a surly smile. "You might be right."
"So answer Daniel's question, because we have other things to do."
"Thirsty?" Oludaran pointed to a half empty glass of water, intentionally avoiding the topic. "I'd offer drinks to you both, but it seems there's only enough for one."
"Oh, quit it," Jack looked around for somewhere to sit, something to handle, then compromised by putting his hands in his pockets. "Who are you, really? Where are you from? Why are you here?"
"Luok'shuo," was his surprising reply.
"What?" that gained Daniel's attention, his self-consciousness and discomfort at being in this cell again, momentarily forgotten.
"When it was called Tobura. Before the Goa'uld came and called it Luok'shuo, but that was a long time ago." Oludaran watched their reactions carefully. He decided to speak, hoping to gain some sympathy. They were the ones with the power now; maybe he could benefit.
"You were a Goa'uld?" Daniel blurted out. How else could he have lived so long? He did not expect Oludaran to burst out laughing.
"Hell, no. I'm not talking about myself. My ancestors were among the Goa'uld slaves first taken from Tobura. They were among the first to be addicted at that cursed meditation spa, but that was still the time when their masters disengaged the machine slowly, allowing them to recover before returning to their new homes. They lived out their lives under Goa'uld domination, and I was born onto a Goa'uld world."
"So you came back here now to… what, gain retribution?"
"Justice. What belonged to me. My great-grandfather's great-great-grandfather had been High Commissioner on Tobura - Luok'shuo."
"So you thought it was okay to cheat these people?"
"These people, Daniel Jackson, have been free all their lives. My family has always been born under Goa'uld rule. I'm the first to get away."
"Is that why you travel with a Jaffa?" Jack cut in.
"A Jaffa?" Oludaran laughed again. "No, that's why I travel with a brother injected with a concentrated extract of symbiote protein. If the Goa'uld were to come back, our plan was to claim to be guarding the palace until our 'God' shows up from our homeworld. We were going to populate the palace with more people from my childhood planet, and inject everyone with the protein to confuse any Jaffa who might come calling."
"You think they'd buy that?"
Oludaran shrugged. "You thought he was Jaffa, didn't you? These people bought into my being somewhat of a prophet, didn't they? The Goa'uld don't rush into taking over other Goa'uld worlds; it's much easier to conquer simple people. The development of Luok'shuo would indicate to them that they were too late arriving here." Oludaran became thoughtful for a moment, then continued. "When I saw your Jaffa in the hotel room, I thought you might be Goa'uld spies. Then I realized he works with you. I found that situation rather stimulating."
"So," Daniel's thoughts were swirling. "Jack?" Pulling Jack by the sleeve towards the open hatch and the shuttle, Daniel lowered his voice to a near whisper. "His plan… if the Goa'uld ever do try to return, he might be the only way to divert them."
"What?" Jack's eyes crunched into a squint as his facial muscles tightened. "You saying you want him out of here? Reinstated in his palace? That what you're saying?"
Daniel's gaze dropped to the floor. Was it really such a bad idea? "Maybe."
"Look, if the Goa'uld come back, they'll find these people addicted to perojin - "
"Only after trying to enslave some of them again. And who knows, they might become angry and destroy everything; we know they like to destroy what they can't have."
"Daniel, we are not - "
"And if the state stops selling perojin pillows, like they suggested, the people - "
"We are not getting him out of here. It's his turn to face the music. To lie in the bed he made…" Jack could hardly believe he was running out of clichés.
"We can put in a good word. If he has a plan to divert an exploring troupe of Jaffa, then maybe these people can be healed after all."
"A plan? You know his plans, Daniel."
Daniel allowed himself a moment to ponder that. "Still, - "
"No."
"Jack - "
"No, Daniel." Jack turned to Oludaran. "So long, see you around. No, not really. Time for us to go. Good luck." He paused. "No, not really." Tugging Daniel's jacket to turn his teammate around, Jack prodded Daniel out the hatch and into the shuttle ahead of him. Oludaran's words rang out from behind.
"If I'm banished to the Outer Vicinity, I'll be up there for years until the re-vote. I won't become insane, nor will I commit suicide. But my cousins and brothers… I'll make sure they find you. I won't forget this."
Checking that Daniel hadn't heard the threat, Jack paused, looking back just for a second, meeting Oludaran's blazing, ominous eyes. "That'll make you one among many. And by the way, that insanity thing? You're already halfway there, pal. Don't be so sure your ancestors got away scot-free." Jack turned back to the shuttle and climbed in, Earth sweetly beckoning. As the panel slid closed, he didn't look back.
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Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of MGM, etc. I've written this story for entertainment purposes only.