Dusk was a hint of purple in the western sky by the time Makepeace swung his Dodge SUV into the visitor center parking lot and killed the engine. Though sunset was while off yet, the sun had already dropped behind Pikes Peak and, according to the dash, the temperature had cooled to a pleasant sixty-five degrees. Makepeace scanned the few cars that remained in the lot. The park was close to closing, but there were still a number of minivans and station wagons occupying a few spaces — family cars, their occupants the remnants of what had most likely been a busy day. Come Labor Day, the lot and the center would be deserted at this time, the few tourists who visited having long since departed. There was no sign yet of the man he had come here to meet, and none of these vehicles looked like they’d be his preferred mode of transport. Harold Maybourne was a man who liked to keep other people waiting, a message, Makepeace thought, about who was in control.
It had taken Makepeace longer than usual to get here. His conversation in the infirmary with General Hammond had left him antsy, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. Perhaps it was the general’s refusal to let him take SG-3 back out on the search and rescue, but Makepeace sensed that something more was going on. Of course, working for the Stargate Program, he was used to there being secrets to which he wasn’t privy. He wasn’t always on the need-to-know list and that was just fine by him, but today… Hammond’s expression had turned guarded, as if he’d been about to share something with Makepeace, but then changed his mind.
Maybe he was just being paranoid. Or maybe he shouldn’t have mouthed off about the Tok’ra, but dammit he hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. Either way, he’d left the base with a distinct feeling of unease, the Tollan artifact a heavy weight in the gym bag he carried. Instead of heading straight to the rendezvous, he’d swung south on 115, keeping an eye on the rearview, then took a few random lefts and rights, before doubling back on himself up I-25. Not until he’d hit North 30th, did he shake the notion that he’d been followed. The sooner he offloaded this damned tech, the better.
Makepeace picked up the bag and got out of the SUV, taking a moment to survey the towering red rocks that surrounded him: The Garden of the Gods National Park, Colorado Springs. Given the delusions of grandeur held by the very sons-of-bitches who threatened the planet, the irony of the name did not escape him, and he wondered if Maybourne had chosen it as a rendezvous point deliberately. He doubted the man appreciated its majestic beauty. Then again, Makepeace also doubted whether Maybourne had that sophisticated a sense of humor.
He headed into the visitor’s center and made for the coffee shop. He hadn’t yet followed Hammond’s direction to grab some shut-eye and the toll of two back-to-back missions was starting to weigh on him.
“What can I get ya?” asked the waitress — Trish, by her name badge — with a sunny smile, though Makepeace caught the way she flicked a glance at the clock behind him. Evidently, it had been a long day for her too and she no doubt wondered at a visitor arriving so late.
“Coffee, please. Black, and throw in an extra espresso shot.”
“The coffee I can do, hon, but we ain’t no Starbucks.”
Makepeace gave her a smile and nodded, then pointed to the ‘Theater’ sign suspended from the ceiling. “Is the movie still on?”
“It sure is,” said Trish. “Five minutes until the last show of the day. That’ll be five dollars for the ticket and a buck seventy-five for the coffee.”
Makepeace thanked her, handed over a ten and told her to keep the change.
“Well, thank you, honey.” Apparently, a decent tip was the very thing to make a late visitor less objectionable. “You go on in and enjoy the show.”
He’d only just settled into his seat in the darkened theater, when he heard the door open and close behind him. Harold Maybourne sat down a row in front just as the screen brightened and the first bars of America the Beautiful drifted out of the speakers.
“You’re late,” said Maybourne.
“I had to make a detour,” said Makepeace, resisting the urge to ask where Maybourne had been hiding that he knew when he’d arrived. The colonel loved his subterfuge too much and it wouldn’t do to encourage him.
Maybourne glanced over his shoulder. “You were followed?”
“No, but I wanted to take precautions. General Hammond is worried about something.”
Maybourne turned back to the screen. Old grainy footage of Native Americans was playing now, their feathered headdresses incongruous with their weskits and collarless shirts. “Well, of course he is,” said Maybourne. “His precious SG-1 is missing.”
Makepeace narrowed his eyes. At no point during their phone conversation earlier had he mentioned that. “You know about that?”
“I know about a lot of things.”
A thought struck Makepeace then, unpleasant but all too credible. “And just how much do you know about this, Maybourne?”
Maybourne paused and inclined his head towards Makepeace again. “Is that what you think me capable of, Colonel? Striking against our own people?”
“I think you’re probably capable of a lot more than I’d consider reasonable.”
“Tell me, Makepeace, how’s the view from that moral high ground? Because last I checked your hands aren’t exactly squeaky clean.”
Makepeace clenched his jaw. “There’s a line —”
“Which you cross repeatedly.”
Makepeace said nothing. It was hard to defend the indefensible.
“For the record,” continued Maybourne, “no, I had nothing to do with what happened to SG-1. Interested parties have been watching O’Neill and it wouldn’t be wise to have him disappear. That said…” He trailed off, as if considering his next words.
“What?” demanded Makepeace.
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if the good colonel and his team were to, let’s say, take a little longer to return.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Maybourne?” His BS and double talk were starting to get on Makepeace’s last nerve. At least with men like George Hammond you knew where you were; he was as slippery as a fresh caught catfish. And his comments about Jack O’Neill didn’t sit well with Makepeace one little bit.
“I hear the Asgard are threatening to remove the Earth from the Protected Planets Treaty.”
Makepeace started forward in his seat, his eyes flicking to the gym bag on the floor. “You’re not serious.”
“I’m perfectly serious,” replied Maybourne. It was hard to read his expression, dark as it was in the theater, with only the side of his face visible. He seemed unconcerned.
“Because of what we’re doing?”
Maybourne snorted a laugh. “Of course, because of what we’re doing. You don’t get to steal from your neighbors and not have them build higher fences.”
“Then we need to stop.”
That prompted Maybourne to turn in his seat and fix Makepeace with a stare. “You really have no idea, do you, Robert? We don’t stop. We never stop. They can’t beat us this way.”
“We’re not at war with them, Maybourne,” hissed Makepeace.
“Aren’t we?” the colonel asked, his tone mildly amused. He turned and settled back in his seat, watching the images of red rocks towering amid the pinyon pine that flickered on the screen. “You’re a native Coloradan, aren’t you, Colonel? How well do you know this park?”
Makepeace frowned at the tangent. It was getting late and he hadn’t been prepared for the curveball Maybourne had thrown. He wanted answers, but he also just wanted to go home. “Pretty well. My old man used to bring us climbing here.”
“And I bet you had a swell time. There’re all kinds of regulations now of course. Rules to stop you climbing where you want, that just take the fun out of the whole thing. You know the big rock just north of here? The one they call the Tower of Babel?”
Makepeace knew it, but he said nothing. Maybourne continued anyway. “It’s named for the tower that humanity, speaking a single, united language, decided to build to try and reach heaven. ‘And the Lord, who came down to see the city and the tower which the children of men built, said, Behold, the people is one, and nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them. So the Lord scattered them from there over all the Earth.’”
“I didn’t come here for Bible study.”
“You asked me a question, Colonel, now let me ask this of you: do you think we speak a single language now, Makepeace? Is humanity united?” Maybourne didn’t wait for him to answer. “No, Robert, it’s not. We’re scattered, and none of us speak the same language. Looking to the skies for salvation won’t help our cause. The only thing the skies will bring us is a shiny ha’tak ready to rain destruction over all the lands. People like the Tollan don’t give a damn about our planet; they don’t care what happens to the people living here, the small people like your friend Trish out there. No one is going to save us but ourselves. So, we don’t stop. We keep going. We do more. SG-1 might come back, or they might not. But regardless, when the Asgard and their buddies decide that we’re no longer worth the risk, the Pentagon will realize that it’s time we looked to our own backyard for help. And by that time people like you and I will have made sure that we’ve got the might to take care of ourselves.”
The screen turned to black and the theater went silent.
“Don’t get squeamish on me, Robert. Stick to the plan.”
Makepeace stood without a word, retrieving the gym bag from the floor. He hesitated a moment before dropping it in the empty seat next to Maybourne. Then he was through the theater door and out of the dark, into the clean air of the park as Trish’s call to ‘come back real soon’ echoed in his ears.
Pain woke him, jangling nerves crawling back to life, limbs heavy and unresponsive and his mind sluggish. His mouth felt dry, tasted foul, and someone was using a jackhammer inside his skull.
“God…” Jack dragged a heavy arm across his eyes, blinking and dazzled by flickering yellow light. The world was blurry and it took a moment for his vision to clear. When it did, he found himself staring at a rocky ceiling. And then he remembered — cave.
He was a prisoner.
Stifling another groan, he forced his uncooperative arms and legs to work and pushed himself up so that his back rested against the wall. He stayed there for a few moments, catching his breath, using the time to assess his position.
First, he was unarmed: both his MP5 and Beretta were missing.
Second, he was in a small cell, there was some kind of straw or grass on the floor, and in the corner a lantern hung from a crude iron hook. It cast enough light to reveal a rough-hewn wooden door — shut — and Carter. She was a couple of feet away, flat on her back and out cold.
Third, Daniel and Teal’c were missing.
“Carter?” His voice was no more than a croak, but his limbs were recovering from what felt like the world’s worst case of pins-and-needles, and he managed to drag himself over to her. “Carter.” He pressed clumsy fingers to her throat — her skin was warm, her pulse steady. He shook her shoulder. “Major, wake up.”
Nothing. Whatever it was they’d hit them with, it was powerful — he’d never felt anything quite like it. Definitely not a zat. Sagging against the wall next to Carter, he kept his hand on her shoulder and waited. He could feel his body slowly recovering, but it wasn’t there yet, and until they were both up and running no one was going anywhere. Besides, he needed to think and this was as good a time as any.
He flexed his tingling fingers and tried to pull his thoughts together.
Their situation was bad. Daniel — wherever the hell he was — needed urgent medical attention and the mission to Tollana was a little over twenty-four hours away.
Worse still, he felt like his team was falling apart, and he was starting to doubt that, even if they got out of this mess, he’d be able to rebuild the trust that had once bound them so closely.
He was tempted, so tempted, to drop the whole charade and just tell them everything. But Hammond’s orders had been explicit: No one can know, Jack. Not even your team. The future of the planet depends on the success of this mission.
Jack knocked his head back against the rocky wall in frustration. Sometimes he wished he was more of the maverick everyone imagined him to be, but while there might come a time — and soon — when he felt it necessary to disobey Hammond’s orders, he hadn’t reached that point yet.
So he had to carry on. He had to keep up the jackass routine, get them home, save Daniel, betray his team and save the world. Again.
And after that? Hell, after that he was going fishing. And no one could stop him.
Beneath his hand, Carter stirred. She opened her eyes, winced in pain, and groaned.
“You’re okay,” he said, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It gets better.”
“Sir… ?” She blinked, rubbed at her face with clumsy hands. “God, what happened… ?”
“They shot us,” he said. And what he wanted to add was, You were right, by the way. We should have stayed at the camp, close to the gate. But he couldn’t — all part of the act — so he just said, “Daniel and Teal’c are missing.”
“What?” She struggled to sit up and he helped her, resting her back against the wall next to him. “How long have they been gone?”
“I only just woke up,” he said, watching as she started shaking the pins-and-needles out of her hands. “That’ll take a few minutes.”
She nodded, but didn’t look at him. He hated that she was wary around him now. “That was no zat, sir,” she said.
“No.”
“But I’d sure like to take a look at one of those weapons.”
A creak drew his eyes to the door. “You just might get that chance, Major,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. She tried to follow, but he waved her back down. “Stay there.”
He took a step forward as the door opened and Aedan Trask strolled into the cell. He was still armed, although the weapon dangled casually from a hand hanging loose at his side. “Ah,” he said, smiling, “you’re awake. How do you feel?”
“You shot us.” Jack put himself between Aedan and Carter. “How do you think I feel?”
“Apologies for that,” Aedan said, although he didn’t sound very apologetic. “This is a dangerous world, eh? But no harm was done. The stunner only disables you for a short time.”
Jack glanced past the man’s shoulder but couldn’t see anyone else. The door opened onto a narrow passageway and he could see more light at the end of it and hear a bubble of chatter. He wondered how hard it would be to rush the man, to grab his weapon. If Carter had been less incapacitated…
He heard her scramble awkwardly to her feet behind him, no doubt thinking along the same lines. Unfortunately, so was Aedan Trask. He lifted the weapon, aimed it loosely in their direction. “No need for any of that,” he said. “You’re not our prisoners.”
“Really? Then I gotta tell you, your guest rooms suck.”
From behind him, Carter said, “Where are our weapons?”
“In a safe place,” Aedan said. “You’ll have them again when you leave. In the meantime, your friends are enjoying our hospitality.”
Jack lifted an eyebrow. “Are they, now?”
Stepping back from the door, Aedan gestured down the passage with his weapon. “See for yourself. Your friend, Teal’c, woke quickly from the stunner and we didn’t use it on your injured companion. Meagan, our medic, is treating him. Come on.” He flicked his head towards the door. “It’s a cold night, but the fire’s warm and we’ve food to share. You’re welcome here, Jack O’Neill and Carter.”
“It’s Sam,” she said, moving on wobbly legs to stand next to Jack. “My friends call me Sam.”
Aedan smiled. “Sam,” he said. “Come on, your friends are waiting.”
With that he turned his back on them, leaving the door open, and headed down the narrow passageway. If they’d wanted to jump him, now was the perfect moment.
Jack looked at Carter, silently asking her opinion.
“I believe him, sir,” she said with a shrug. “For what it’s worth.”
He wanted to say, It’s worth a lot. But all he allowed himself to say was, “Me too.” And then he headed out after Aedan, forcing himself to leave Carter, still woozy from the stunner, to follow as best she could.
“There.” The woman — Meagan — sat back on her heels and admired her handiwork with a pragmatic eye. “You’ll be more comfortable now, Daniel.”
He lay on his back on a straw pallet, his shirt pushed up to expose the gash in his side. Meagan had washed out the FastClot and he felt better for it. There was no new bleeding either, which he took as a good sign. Then she’d covered his wound with a herbal poultice that she claimed would prevent infection — interesting, he’d noted through the pain, that she knew the word ‘infection’ — and redressed the wound with a sterile dressing from Daniel’s pack.
As she tied off the bandage, Daniel opened his eyes. The worst of the pain was over now and he could concentrate on the world again.
“Daniel Jackson.” Teal’c sat at his side, watching him with the steady focus he’d learned to interpret as concern. “Would you like me to administer a dose of morphine?”
Yes, he thought. And no. He started to tug his shirt down, but Meagan batted away his hands and did it herself with an irritated tsk-tsk. She was one of the oldest women in the group, although it was difficult to judge her age accurately in the smoky yellow light of their lamps. He thought he’d put her at about forty. Not old by American standards, yet she was clearly treated with the reverence of an elder here and it was unsurprising given that everyone else looked so young. Her hair was graying, braided and beaded like all the others, her eyes merry with lines around them that crinkled when she smiled. “Morphine?” she said, considering the word. “What is that?”
“It helps with pain,” Daniel explained, wincing as he shifted to allow her to readjust his shirt. “But it leaves you pretty out of it.”
Meagan frowned at the expression. “It clouds your mind?”
“Yes,” he said, and glanced at Teal’c. “Maybe later?” He wanted to talk to these people while he was still lucid, first and foremost about the whereabouts of Jack and Sam.
Teal’c nodded and turned his eyes on the rest of the room. He was uneasy, but that was an improvement on his previous state of ‘extremely pissed off’.
When Teal’c had woken from the stun blast halfway into the cave network, the confrontation had almost proven disastrous, but luckily Teal’c’s reflexes had been fogged by the stunner and Daniel had been conscious enough to talk him down before he could do too much damage. Nonetheless, a couple of Aedan’s men were sporting bruises and black-eyes and casting Teal’c wary glances from the far side of the room or, rather, the cave. Teal’c had set himself up like a sentry next to Daniel and, despite being unarmed, was watching the whole room as if daring anyone to challenge him. So far, no one had accepted that dare.
“Can you help me sit up?” Daniel asked Meagan.
“You’re a stubborn one,” she said, but not without approval. She nodded to Teal’c. “Take his other arm, help me.”
In silence Teal’c did so and between them they eased Daniel upright. There was something solid behind him, like a heavy cushion, and he leaned against it for a moment as he adjusted to the new level of pain and then waited for it to recede.
Meagan watched through narrowed eyes. “I’ll fetch you something,” she decided, “for the pain and the fever. It’ll not cloud your mind.”
Daniel nodded his thanks, teeth gritted and still unable to speak. Next to him, Teal’c shifted restlessly.
“I am concerned for O’Neill and Major Carter,” he said, his gaze turning toward the room to which they’d been taken to sleep off the effects of the stunner. “Why have they not woken yet?”
“Junior?” Daniel managed, with a feeble gesture toward Teal’c’s stomach. It was the obvious explanation, but Teal’c didn’t look convinced.
Meagan returned then, holding a steaming wooden cup in her hands. “Here,” she said, offering it to Daniel. “It’ll help.”
He sniffed — it smelled herbal, faintly acrid.
“Are you sure that is wise, Daniel Jackson?”
Meagan frowned. “It’ll do him good,” she said, offended. “I’ve a fair bit of skill in medicine.”
“I can tell that you do,” Daniel said, smoothing things over. “And, really, thank you Meagan. For everything.” He blew on the steaming liquid and took a tentative sip. It was soothing, if just for the heat alone, and he felt himself start to relax. “It’s good,” he said, taking another sip. “Very good.”
Megan cast Teal’c a triumphant look and stood up. “When you’ve supped that,” she said to Daniel. “You should rest.”
“Okay,” he said. “But first I was hoping I could ask a few questions… ?”
Her head tipped to one side she said, “About what?”
“Um, well, everything really.”
“Everything is a big subject.”
He laughed a little, and then winced at the jolt of pain. Although, actually, it was more like discomfort now that he came to think about it. He eyed the drink with rather more respect and took another sip. “Let’s say, your world then,” he said. “What’s it called?”
Meagan shrugged. “We’ve no use to call it anything of note. It’s our home and nothing else.”
“But what about when you speak of it to others?”
“Others?” She frowned, but then her face straightened into a sterner expression. “The only ‘others’ are the Devourers. And we don’t speak to them.”
There was that name again. Devourers. It sounded terrifying and Daniel wondered what sort of people it could describe. He hoped they’d have no call to meet them any time soon.
“But what about your lives, the history of your people?”
“Ah…” Megan gave a small smile, settling a little, her eyes creasing. “Then you should speak to Elspeth. She wastes her days learning about such nonsense.”
Nonsense? Okay. He glanced around the room. “And Elspeth is… ?”
Meagan looked about and then called out, “Elspeth Burne!”
Elspeth was the girl from earlier, he remembered now, from outside the caves. She was sitting on the other side of the fire, eating one of the MRE’s Daniel had dished out in exchange for their help, and looked up, startled, when Meagan called her name. “Come here, girl,” Meagan said, beckoning her over. “The stranger wants to ask you about all that nonsense you peddle.”
With a muttered word to the women she was sitting with, Elspeth stood up — taking the MRE pack with her — and made her way over to Daniel.
“Hello,” he said as she came to stand in front of him, looking down with an appraising expression. “I’m Daniel. I, ah, didn’t mean to disturb your meal.”
Meagan made an impatient gesture and Elspeth sat on the end of the Daniel’s pallet, crossing her legs beneath her. “You didn’t,” she said, and carried on eating. She glanced again at Meagan, and then at Daniel, and said, “What is it you wanted to know?”
“Everything,” Meagan said, with a roll of her eyes. “So that should keep you talking all night.” She gestured again to Daniel. “Drink it all, and then rest. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
He watched her as she made her way across the room. Aedan had emerged from one of the passageways that led onto the room, and they stopped to talk together. This room, Daniel figured, was a kind of central point — a gathering place and living space for the small community.
“Meagan doesn’t hold with tales of the past,” Elspeth said, sniffing at a packet of crackers. “She thinks it’s a waste of time learning them, she only wants to learn what she can use now. Like herb lore and so on.”
“Well, she has a point,” Daniel said, turning back to the girl. No, girl wasn’t right. She was a young woman, hardened and lean like all her people. “But I think that stories of the past can help us too, they can teach us lessons — point in the direction we should travel.”
“Aye…” She looked at him with surprise, eyes widening. “That’s what I think, that’s exactly how I feel. But no one here agrees, they say there’s no time for that. They say I’ve a head full of dreams.”
He laughed. “Oh, I can so identify.”
The expression puzzled her, but didn’t dim the light in her eyes. He recognized it at once, the pleasure of discovering a kindred spirit.
“So,” he said, “tell me about your people. Meagan says this world has no name.”
Elspeth pursed her lips and then said, “She’s right in a way. You’ll not find a soul in this room who’d give it a name, though I’ve seen it called the Lallans.”
“Seen it?” asked Daniel. “Where?”
“In the books,” replied Elspeth, but then pressed her lips together as if she’d revealed something she shouldn’t. Too late, though. Daniel had heard the magic word.
“You have books? Where? Can you show me?”
“I don’t like to show them. Most people mock me. They don’t understand.”
“I promise I wouldn’t mock you, Elspeth. I’d really like to see.”
But it was no use; the girl shook her head, braids fluttering about her shoulders and Daniel knew that pushing the matter wouldn’t help. He settled for the next best thing.
“Then tell me what you’ve found. Tell me about your past. Your people.”
“My people?” she said with a speculative look. “Do we not share the same past, Daniel? Or do you truly come from the world beyond the Eye?”
Teal’c shifted, making his presence known, a reminder not to say too much.
Daniel cleared his throat. “Ultimately, we all share the same past,” he said. “But some of us know more about it than others, and you strike me as someone who has a lot to teach.”
Elspeth nodded, looking pleased, her braided hair swaying and the beads clattering together. “That’s true.”
Scholars were the same the world over, it appeared; academic vanity was always their weak point. “And I would be honored,” he said, “if you’d share with me what you’ve learned.”
“Very well, then,” Elspeth said, settling herself. “The story of our people begins with the war.”
“The war that destroyed the Stargate?”
“The war,” she said, like she was telling a story, “that destroyed everything.”
And this, he thought, with a sudden fierce joy, this is why I still do the job. After the trauma of losing Sha’re, of losing his purpose, this was the reason he still got up in the morning.
“Tell me —”
“Daniel.”
Startled, he glanced up to see Jack prowling into the room. Brow furrowed he was scanning the area with his customary vigilance, checking for exits and hidden dangers. Daniel could practically see his fingers twitching for lack of a weapon. “Jack,” he said. “Feeling better?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
He raised his cup in salute. “Much better.”
“Daniel…” Jack’s frown dug deeper. “What have I told you about drinking the local brew?”
“I did endeavor to warn him,” Teal’c said. “I was unsuccessful.”
Daniel met Jack’s gaze and held it. They were both smart men and they both knew the likely outcome if he didn’t get home soon. “I figured, what’s the worst that could happen?”
Jack just grunted in reply and moved further into the room, picking his way through the people gathered around the fire, eating and watching him with open curiosity. Eventually he reached Daniel and dropped down on the floor next to him. He stifled a groan as he did so, as if moving was an effort, and sat there for a moment flexing his fingers, shaking them like he had pins-and-needles.
“Where’s Sam?” Daniel said, looking around. “Aedan said she was with you.”
“She’s coming.”
And a moment later Sam appeared at the end of passageway, one hand braced against the wall for support, looking groggy and unstable on her feet.
Teal’c immediately stood up. “Major Carter.” He flung a disapproving look at Jack. “You require assistance.”
She tried to wave him away. “I’m fine.”
But Teal’c ignored her, hurrying over to take her arm and lead her to a space on the opposite side of the fire. “Sit here,” he said. “I will find you food and water.”
With a grateful smile she eased herself to the ground. “Thanks, Teal’c.”
Jack said nothing, his angry glare apparently engrossed by the dancing flames.
Looking between them, Daniel couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. “Is she okay —?”
“She’s fine,” he growled. He jerked his head toward Aedan, who was still talking to Megan on the other side of the room. “You find out anything useful yet?”
Swallowing his irritation — and admittedly this wasn’t really the time or the place to make a scene — Daniel resettled his glasses on his nose and said, “As a matter of fact, Elspeth was about to tell me about the war.”
“When they nuked the gate?”
“I don’t know. That’s what she was about to tell me.”
Jack gave a shrug as if to say, Don’t let me stop you.
So he didn’t. Elspeth was watching the exchange curiously, her inquisitive gaze darting between Daniel and Jack, as she steadily worked through the last of his MRE as if it were the finest meal she’d ever eaten. Perhaps it was. But she smiled when he looked at her again, licking gravy from her fingers.
“So,” he said, “the war?”
She nodded, pushing the MRE container aside and settling down for the story. “Well, it happened long ago, when our parents’ parents were young.”
“Longer ago than that,” Aedan corrected. He’d climbed up onto a ledge of rock halfway up the wall and sat there fletching arrows.
“It was in the time of the old gods,” Elspeth said, ignoring the interruption. “They were beautiful, and very powerful, and our people served them and worshiped them.”
“Some of our people…” Aedan, again.
Elspeth scowled but carried on regardless. “Then the Amam came — Devourers, as we call them now.” She dropped her voice, adding a little extra drama. “It’s said that they came in a single night, pouring through the Eye from the underworld.”
“The underworld?”
Jack gave a disparaging grunt, but in fact the term made perfect mythological sense in the context of ‘Amam’. Not that Jack knew that, of course. Or would care much, probably.
“And what — exactly — are the Amam?” Daniel said. “Are they people, like us?”
Elspeth shook her head. “They are the undead. They come from the underworld to devour the flesh of the living.”
“Zombies.” Jack raised an eyebrow. “That’s new.”
Daniel ignored him and smiled encouragingly at Elspeth. “Go on — the Amam came and… ?”
“And the old gods fought them. They sent every one of their mighty warriors against the Devourers, but they couldn’t defeat them. You see, the undead cannot die. And so the war lasted for many, many years. It is said that millions of people died.”
Daniel glanced over at Aedan, to see if he’d object to the exaggeration. He must have sensed Daniel’s eyes on him, because he looked up from his work and gave a slight nod. “That much is true,” he said. “No one doubts that. We find their bones everywhere.”
And that was an image to keep you awake at night.
“The Goa’uld have been known to use tactical nukes,” Sam chipped in, talking around a mouthful of the stew she was eating. She gave a little shrug, “If we’re talking about WMDs and ‘old gods’…”
Daniel nodded. It was pretty clear that the Goa’uld had been here at some point, and maybe they hadn’t left. “So these Devourers, the Amam, they won the war?”
The girl’s expression darkened. “Yes. They drove out the old gods and then there was no one left to protect us. The Devourers swarmed over the world like rats, feeding on flesh ‘til they could eat no more. Some few of us survived, like this, under the ground where they can’t find us. But others…” She looked over at Aedan, her voice less certain. “In the south, they say, there are camps where humans live penned like animals. The Amam feed on them at their pleasure.”
Aedan gave a curt nod. “That’s true. I’ve seen it.”
He said no more, his face closing down into a hard expression that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Jack O’Neill. The room fell silent, everyone subdued, and suddenly Daniel realized that this wasn’t mythology, it wasn’t even history. This was a cold, dark reality. The thought raised a shiver along the length of his spine.
“What about the Stargate?” Jack said, breaking into the silence. “Do the dead guys still use it?”
“The Eye?” Elspeth said, glancing at Daniel for confirmation. He nodded. “Yes,” she said. “The old gods tried to destroy the Eye, but they couldn’t. And still the Devourers fly through it.”
“Fly?” Jack threw a significant look at Daniel. “In ships, I presume. Not with… wings?”
Elspeth blinked. “Neither boats nor wings,” she said. “They ride in fighters.”
“Fighters?” Jack made a swooping gesture with his hand. “As in fighter aircraft? In the sky?”
“Death Gliders,” Teal’c surmised from his place next to Sam.
“It’s possible,” she said. “Maybe they have some kind of on-board DHD so they can dial the gate remotely before they fly through?”
Jack nodded. “You ever see them land one of these things?”
“Never,” Elspeth said. “When the Devourers are close, we stay inside and put out all the lights. Discovery means death.”
With a soft clatter, Aedan dropped his arrows onto the floor and jumped down from his perch. “You can’t travel through the Eye,” he told Jack. “Only a fool imagines escaping this world. And there’s only death for those who try.”
“That’s not true,” Elspeth retorted, turning to face him. “People have escaped.” She appealed to the rest of her people. “Haven’t they?” Some of them shrugged, while others just shook their heads as if bored of an oft-rehearsed argument.
But she had one rapt listener. “How?” Jack demanded. “Tell me how they escaped.”
“The resistance, of course.”
“And they are… ?”
She looked at him askance, eyes narrowing. “Why do you pretend you know nothing of them when you’re wearing their symbol on your arm?”
Jack’s gaze darted to Daniel’s. “This?” he said, touching his SG-1 patch.
Elspeth shook her head impatiently and pushed up her sleeve, revealing a tattoo on her arm. “This,” she said.
The Earth glyph.
Jack’s eyebrows rose. “Okay,” he said cautiously. “Daniel, any ideas?”
“Well, think about it,” he said, mind racing ahead to make the connections. “If you’re looking for a symbol of resistance, of a place of safety, that’s a pretty good one.”
“You mean because of what happened to Ra?”
Daniel nodded. “Stories are powerful,” he said. “They spread fast and they’re almost impossible to stop. Over time they evolve into legends and myths, but there’s usually a kernel of truth in there somewhere.” He brushed a finger over Elspeth’s tattoo. “And there it is.”
“The resistance is no legend,” Elspeth insisted, pulling down her sleeve. “It’s real.” She threw a defiant look at Aedan, as if daring him to object. “They’re led by a man called Dix, and he’s helped thousands to escape this world and join them.”
“Through the Stargate?” Jack didn’t sound convinced and neither was Daniel. No one was escaping covertly through a defunct Stargate, with no DHD, that was the only thing standing for miles around.
Elspeth shook her head. “I don’t know how. I just know that if you find him, he’ll get you out.”
“Elspeth, stop it,” Aedan said at last, weary and frustrated. “Stop your nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense!” She turned back to Daniel. “Dix serves the old gods,” she said, “and the resistance is going to help them return and save us. The old gods will drive out the Devourers and we’ll be free again.”
“The ‘old gods’,” Teal’c said darkly, “will not free you. They will enslave you.”
Elspeth folded her arms across her chest and fixed Teal’c with a hard look. “Well, I’d rather serve the old gods than feed the Devourers.”
“Then you know nothing of slavery.”
“And you know nothing of the Amam.”
Teal’c glared at her and she glared right back. Daniel had to swallow a smile at the sight of this stripling girl going toe-to-toe with Teal’c.
“Easy there, big guy,” Jack said, not bothering to smother his own amusement. “This one looks dangerous.”
“Take no notice of her,” Aedan said, glancing between Elspeth and Teal’c with a shimmer of concern. “Elspeth believes in fairy tales.”
“Aedan,” she warned. “Don’t you —”
“It’s a myth!” he snapped. “The whole Dix thing is a myth. How could he still be alive? The war was generations ago.”
“The old gods can do anything.”
“Nonsense! Everyone knows the ‘old gods’ weren’t gods, they were just creatures from another world. And now they’re gone and they’re not coming back to save us. No one can save us.” Aiden snatched up his arrows from the floor and headed for one of the passageways branching off from the room. He stopped at the last moment, fixing Daniel and Jack with a serious look. “I don’t know where you’ve come from, but, trust me, it’s better to hide and live than to fight and die. That’s the reality of the world and anyone who thinks otherwise ends up dead.”
After Aedan had stormed out, it wasn’t long before Elspeth and the others started preparing to sleep. Sam was surprised when the colonel suggested they sleep back in the ‘cell’ until she realized that it had a door, which meant they could talk with a modicum of privacy.
So they dragged their kit inside, along with a straw pallet to help Daniel rest more comfortably, and made camp. Once they’d laid out their bedrolls Sam extinguished the lamp and groped her way back to her sleeping bag. It was almost pitch black, only the dimming firelight seeping around the door cutting the darkness. Crouching down, she misjudged her position and when she reached out for her bedroll, she hit a nose and part of a face instead.
“Ow! Carter!”
She snatched back her hand, wincing. “Sorry, sir.”
Expecting another sour complaint, she was amazed when he just said, “Nah, it was only my eye. I’ve got a spare.”
Bottling her surprise, not quite knowing how to respond, she found her sleeping bag in silence and crawled inside, pulling it up right under her chin against the chill of the cave. Away from the fire the damp stone seemed to be pressing in all around them. She shivered.
They were all quiet for a moment, lying close together in the darkness. Outside she could hear the muted sounds of their hosts settling down for the night, low voices and the rustle of their straw pallets. It was comforting, in a way, and she could feel herself start to unwind for the first time in days — maybe months. Aching muscles sank into the scant comfort of her bedroll, her eyes closing as sleep stole up on her. Next to her, Daniel yawned. None of them had slept much the night before and she felt safe here — the colonel hadn’t even bothered to set a watch.
“So… zombies, huh?”
Despite the tension stacked up between them, Sam smiled; the colonel sounded like a kid telling scary stories after lights-out at camp. “Whatever they are, sir, I think we can rule out the cast of Thriller.”
“It is most likely that they are Goa’uld,” Teal’c said.
“Flesh-eating snakeheads?” The colonel gave an exaggerated sigh. “Is it me, or is this whole situation CATFUed, Carter?”
“What?” Daniel said, puzzled. “Cat food?”
Sam snorted a laugh, mostly born of stress and exhaustion, and then found that she couldn’t stop.
The colonel didn’t laugh, but she could hear a smile in his voice when he said, “No giggling.”
And that made it worse, made it harder to stop laughing, and for a moment — a moment — it felt like old times, like things were normal again.
Shifting on his pallet, Daniel said, “Okay, what am I missing?”
“Carter? Care to translate for our linguist… ?”
It took her a couple of tries before she could get a grip on her giggles. “CATFU, Daniel,” she managed at last. “C.A.T.F.U. Completely and Totally, um, ‘Fouled’ Up.”
“Ah. Military humor. Ha ha.”
“Cat food,” Sam laughed again. “This situation is Whiskas, sir.”
Daniel chuckled and even the colonel huffed a quiet laugh. Silence fell for a while as their laughter subsided, a good silence, as if they were all enjoying the rare moment of camaraderie. It was probably the first time they’d laughed together since before Edora.
But eventually the moment passed and Daniel said, “You know, I think Teal’c might be right about the Goa’uld.”
“You think they’re flesh-eating snakes?”
“Well, no. I mean, I don’t know about the flesh-eating part, but I do know the term Amam.”
The colonel shifted. Now that her eyes were used to the dark, Sam could see him loop his hands behind his head and settle in for the long haul. “Let’s hear it then.”
“It’s quite simple really,” Daniel said. “The Book of the Dead describes a set of demonic entities that harrow the dead in the between-realm of the afterlife. They’re known as Devourers, or Amam, who feed on parts of the body and soul.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Well, they are demons…” He cleared his throat. “Teal’c, have you ever heard of the Amam, or any kind of ‘undead’ creature?”
“I have not,” Teal’c said. “But it does not follow that they do not exist. I have not encountered everything in this galaxy.”
“True,” the colonel said. “You haven’t even encountered my lake yet.”
“Is that an invitation to fish, O’Neill?”
“Maybe it is.”
And maybe, Sam thought, it was something about this darkness that was lightening the colonel’s mood because somehow he was more himself now than he had been in weeks. And she felt lighter for it too, because perhaps it meant he wasn’t so lost to them after all.
“You know,” she said, “these Amam could just be the Jaffa of a new System Lord who’s come in here and wiped out whoever used to be in charge.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Daniel turned toward her, his glasses glinting in the faint light seeping around the door. “They’re probably Jaffa mythologized into ‘undead’ creatures by whatever Goa’uld first ruled this world. Perhaps they’ve even taken on the persona of Amam?”
“And don’t forget the sarcophagus,” Sam added. “I mean, talk about rising from the dead…”
“Yes! I think we can say we’re not dealing with real live — or is that real undead? — zombies.”
“I hope you’re right,” the colonel said, “because Night of the Living Dead spooked the hell outa Teal’c.”
“It did not, O’Neill.”
“He’s just saying that. He was watching through his fingers.”
Sam grinned, she couldn’t help herself. “At least one thing’s clear, sir. Whoever these ‘Devourers’ are, they can use the Stargate network. And that means there’s a way home.”
“My thoughts exactly, Carter.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but it looks like tracking down the flesh-eating-snakehead-zombies is actually our best chance of getting off this rock.”
Sam smiled into the darkness and, after a moment, Daniel said, “You know, Jack, it’s at times like this when I… I just…”
“…wonder where it all went wrong?”
“Yep, pretty much.”