It was hard not to notice that the tunnels were less crowded than they had been the last time, confirming all the reports that the Tok’ra were in serious decline, but Daniel found it hard to muster much sympathy under the circumstances. At least their escort seemed suitably embarrassed, leading them briskly through the tunnels without making an effort to assert Tok’ra superiority. Daniel glanced sideways as they approached the entrance to the council chamber, gauging Sam’s reaction. She was still furious, all right, but he didn’t think anyone else would realize, at least not at first. The Atlantis command had improved her poker face. Mitchell, on the other hand, was frankly scowling — which might not be a bad thing; he was there to be the heavy. And Vala was looking focused and intent, which for her might well count as seriously annoyed.
“Colonel Carter and SG-1, of the Tau’ri,” the escort said, and stepped back to let them enter.
Sam stepped briskly through the door — Atlantis had gotten her used to being in charge, too — and stopped abruptly. Daniel stepped sideways to avoid running into her, and felt his own breath catch in his throat. The membership of the High Council had changed since the last time they’d dealt with the Tok’ra. Per’sus he recognized, the graying man in the center seat, and Sal’tor — and Anise. Though what she was doing on the Council, after the last time she’d screwed around with them… The scientist saw him looking and met his gaze defiantly.
“Supreme High Councillor Per’sus,” Sam said, and he inclined his head in answer. “You know why we’re here.”
“We do,” Per’sus said, and gestured toward the waiting chairs. It was the host speaking, Daniel realized. “We welcome you, though we profoundly wish it were under other circumstances.”
“As do we,” Sam said, and seated herself. “I’m going to cut to the chase, Councillor. Some of your people attacked our base, stole an Ancient spacecraft, and kidnapped one of our people to fly it for them. General Landry is not happy.”
“We cannot blame him.” That was the symbiote, Per’sus, his voice resonant. “And we can only offer our most sincere regrets. Yet we cannot accept that any of our people would have been so foolish as to attack our allies.”
“Oh, come on,” Mitchell said, not quite under his breath.
“You’ve seen our security video,” Sam said.
“Renegade Goa’uld —” Per’sus began, but Sam kept speaking.
“And they had the High Council’s IDC. If they aren’t Tok’ra, you have an even bigger problem than we do.”
Per’sus winced at that.
“And I recognized them,” Vala said. “I was at the extraction ceremony, and I saw two of them there. I could identify them from your records, if that would help.”
Sal’tor folded careful hands. The host was a small woman, her gray hair wound into a bun, lines bracketing her mouth. “I believe, Per’sus, that — further investigation — has made what seemed impossible somewhat more likely.” Her head dipped, and this time it was the host who spoke. “And perhaps it would be advisable for us to show Vala our records of the extraction. If we can identify the miscreants for certain, then we can act.”
Per’sus nodded. “Yes, that might be the best course of action.”
You’re stalling, Daniel thought. Before he could say anything, Sam shook her head.
“We can get to that, certainly. But you’ve had the chance to look over our footage, so you must have some idea of who these people are and what they want.”
“The images were blurred,” Anise said. “Precise identification was impossible.” It was the first time she had spoken, and Sam gave her a cold stare.
“I’m sure you’re more than capable of cleaning up our data.” She looked back at Per’sus. “You understand, of course, that if our allies have been compromised, either by renegade Goa’uld —” Her tone made it clear how unlikely she thought that was. “Or by factions within their own government, that we will need to take measures to secure our own operations.”
“I can assure you that we will take all appropriate action to deal with this situation,” Per’sus said.
Sam shook her head. “Per’sus, we have been attacked. One of our people has been kidnapped. It’s only due to the intervention of Vala here that no one was killed — your people planted explosives in our gateroom. They also stole a puddle jumper equipped with a time travel device, and we have reason to believe that they have used it. I think you are as aware as we are of the inherent dangers of meddling with the timeline.”
Sal’tor took a deep breath. It was the Tok’ra who spoke, not the host. “I believe that the leader of this group is one called Marik.”
Daniel glanced at Sam, but she looked as blank as he felt. Mitchell frowned. “He was leader of the team who worked at the SGC last year. Which explains how he knew about the jumper.”
“Marik was indeed part of that team,” Per’sus said, reluctantly. “And he has acquired a reputation as one who acts precipitously. But I assure you, we had no knowledge of any such plan, nor any idea of what he could have intended.”
“That’s very unfortunate,” Sam said, after a moment. “Because we need to locate them as soon as possible. For all our sakes.”
“And we will give you all the help we can,” Per’sus said. “But, as you know, our numbers and our influence have dwindled over these last few years. We have far fewer resources to offer.”
Not that they were ever really happy to share, Daniel thought. From the sound of things, Sam and Per’sus could go on fencing all night. He looked at Sal’tor, who sat with tightly folded hands, and then at Anise. She sat motionless, her face utterly still under the cap of golden hair, her eyes barely moving as she tracked the discussion.
“What we need is a starting point,” Sam said. By some miracle, her voice remained coldly patient. “Some idea of Marik’s intentions.”
Anise’s eyes flickered. It wasn’t much of a change, and if Daniel hadn’t been watching so closely, he would have missed it, but it was unmistakable.
“We do not know,” Per’sus said. “You are welcome to make your own inquiries, of course, but — we know nothing.”
“You may not,” Daniel said, “but she does.” He nodded to Anise.
Sam fixed her eyes on Per’sus. “I’m inclined to believe Dr. Jackson’s assessment, here.”
The Tok’ra leader hesitated, and Sal’tor said, “Colonel Carter is Jacob’s daughter, and was host to Jolinar.”
Per’sus nodded at that, and the host said, “It is a fair argument.” His head dipped again, and this time the Tok’ra spoke. “Answer them, Anise.”
“We cannot be certain,” she said.
“I don’t expect certainty from you,” Sam said. The words had bite, and Daniel guessed that she was thinking about the za’tarc, and how Anise’s untried device had nearly gotten her and Jack branded as Goa’uld agents. “What I expect from an ally is information.”
Sal’tor said, “You are aware, Colonel Carter, that we have suffered greatly in recent years. Our numbers are dwindling, and we found our lost queen, Egeria, mother of the Tok’ra, only to have her snatched away from us.”
“Colonel Mitchell is correct,” Anise said. “Marik was the leader of the group we sent to the SGC last year, and he did indeed learn of this time travel device while he was there. On his return, he placed a proposal before the High Council: that we obtain the device from the Tau’ri and use it to replenish our ranks. Of course the Council refused to sanction such a risk.”
“But you think they’ve done it anyway,” Sam said. She shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. You know as well as anyone how dangerous it is to meddle with the timeline.”
Not that mere danger had ever stopped Anise, Daniel thought. But Sam was right, it had to be something big, if the Tok’ra were going to risk changing the past. Their victory over both the Goa’uld and the Ori rested on so many little things, so many moments when the slightest change, one choice tipping the other way, could lose everything. It couldn’t just be that they needed more Tok’ra — Egeria, he thought. That was the key. “You don’t have any queens left,” he said. “There’s no one left to spawn new Tok’ra.”
Sal’tor winced, and Per’sus reluctantly bent his head. “That is so.”
“And that’s why,” Daniel said. He looked at Sam. “That’s it. That’s why they were willing to risk it. If they don’t get a new queen, the Tok’ra will become extinct.”
Sam nodded slowly. “OK,” she said. “I’ll buy that.”
“We refused to sanction such an adventure,” Per’sus said. The Tok’ra sounded suddenly very tired. “Dr. Jackson is right, we are staring extinction in the face. All our females have been killed, and our mother, our best hope, died on Pangor.”
“She died according to her principles,” Sal’tor’s host said. “Saving human and Tok’ra lives.”
“If we are to survive as a people, we must make some difficult choices,” Per’sus said. “Choices which may well be impossible. We cannot breed more Tok’ra — Egeria’s line is ended. We have found a few surviving larvae, and preserved them in secure tanks, but they are Goa’uld. Their genetic memories are of their parent, not our own, and we do not know if even the most careful rearing can overcome their inborn instincts. Nor do we dare recruit any of the few minor Goa’uld who have survived. They are even less likely to convert to our ways. We have pinned our hopes on cloning technology, and hope that we can produce a new generation before we ourselves die out, but that road is long, and the Tok’ra are painfully few.”
“Marik proposed a different solution,” Anise said, her voice distant. “He believed that we could travel back in time to a recent, or even a long ago spawning, and bring back a larval queen to replenish our line. He claimed to have identified several possibilities, points where the disappearance of a single larva would make no difference to the timeline. However, as Per’sus has said, the High Council believed the risk to be too great.”
“Apparently Marik didn’t agree,” Mitchell said.
“And no Tau’ri have never acted without the approval of their superiors?” Anise asked sweetly.
Daniel ignored her. “It would be way too dangerous,” he said. “Unless you found an instance where a larva — or larvae — had vanished already, and presumably you have records of such instances, if there are any?”
“We do not keep such records,” Anise said. “It was too great a risk to our own security.”
Daniel shook his head. “No. No, I know you don’t keep records as such, but you have —” He stopped himself just in time, swallowing anything that would sound too much as though he were calling them Goa’uld. “You have the genetic memories of your immediate and distant ancestors. One of you — one of them — should be able to identify if anything like that ever happened. And when.”
Sam gave him a sharp look, and he willed her to understand. The last thing he wanted to do was to mention Ba’al’s device to the Tok’ra, but as a last resort —
“Yes,” Per’sus said. “That is true.” He and Sal’tor exchanged looks, and Per’sus nodded. “The High Council remains resolute in its belief that Marik’s plan poses an immediate and grave danger to everything we have achieved.”
“The High Council,” Anise said, “is not unanimous in this.”
“Nonetheless, the majority decision stands,” Per’sus said. “We are willing, Colonel Carter, to cooperate with you in finding the most likely time and place for Marik to have gone.” He shook his head. “Though what you will do then — I cannot see.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Sam said. “Thank you, Per’sus.”
“And as a further token of our sincerity,” Per’sus said, “we of the Council are willing to be the first questioned.”
Anise looked up sharply. “I object.”
“If you wish to remain on the Council,” Per’sus began, and she sagged slightly.
“Very well, I agree. But only under protest.”
“Thank you,” Sam said, firmly. “The sooner we begin, the better.”