Paul jumped off the transport’s wide snow belts and onto the hard-packed snow. He flipped on his flashlight. The earlier gray haze had sunk again into a near pitch-black night. “Get back to McMurdo and find Colonel Ferguson,” he told the driver, an army corpsman barely out of his teens.
“But Major Davis, what about — ?”
“No time to argue. Just do it.”
Rebuffed, the corpsman bobbed his head and kicked the transport back into gear.
The sudden change from the overheated truck’s box-like cab into the frigid cold tightened Paul’s weary arms and legs. A lack of thermal layers underneath was to blame, but there’d been no time once General Hammond’s orders came through. When Paul couldn’t find Ken Ferguson to convey those orders, he’d commandeered the first available military vehicle and hightailed over to Observation Hill to get the 302s in the air and over to Byrd Station.
Hammond wanted the Navy SEALS ordinance team laying charges up at the outpost on the double. As much as Paul wanted to believe that there was still time to shut down the continental drift device, he understood why the president had approved the general’s backup plan.
Paul cast his flashlight across the empty base. The quake had hit hard. He took in the collapsed sentry booth, the busted windows on the pilot barracks, and the two overturned jeeps beyond the sentry booth. The hangar had been squashed flat, so where were the F-302s?
A door slammed shut over at the barracks to his right.
“Major Davis!”
Two green-clad men raced toward him, each waving a standard-issue flashlight. They came to attention in front of him and snapped off quick salutes. Paul found himself envious of their USAF-issue leathered mitts as he rubbed his thinner fleece gloves together.
“Major Davis? I’m Captain White. This here is Captain Allen,” said the taller of the two men, or at least, he supposed they were both men. It was hard to tell with their faces wrapped in balaclavas, the dark green face socks leaving only goggles to peer back at him.
As Paul returned the salute, a sudden gust of wind shot up from his left. “Where are the birds? Can they even fly in these kinds of wind conditions?”
“Flying in stiff wind’s not the problem, sir,” said Captain Allen. A woman’s voice. Strong, confident. A lot like Colonel Carter.
“Then what is the problem, Captain?”
“This way, sir.” Swinging her flashlight out toward the airstrip, she jogged off.
With White beside him, Paul hurried to keep up. “Any word from Colonel Ferguson yet? I sent an airman to find him and pass along our plans.”
“No, sir,” said White. “Standard radios haven’t worked so well since the first quake, but knowing the Colonel, he’ll be here soon.”
“Great,” Paul lied. They came to a stop at the edge of an ice field. “Where are the 302s?”
“You’re looking at them.” Allen raised her flashlight. A fifty-foot-wide cluster of broken ice thrust upward from what had been the airstrip. Jutting out from either end were matching wingtips. The F-302s’ wingtips.
“Sea ice, sir.” White added his flashlight’s beam to the disaster. “When the earthquake hit, the resulting pressure shot out across McMurdo Ice Shelf and built up an ice ridge. The entire ice shelf probably looks like this now.”
Paul cast his flashlight along the closer of the two birds. While the wingtips were free, most of the cockpit, the nose and tail were buried in what, under other circumstances, would be a startlingly beautiful landscape. Jagged blocks of exposed ice — some as big as a house — shined pale blue under the flashlights’ glare, the color reminiscent of toothpaste gel.
Dropping his flashlight beam toward the base of the blocks, Paul asked, “Where are the wheels?”
“There.” White illuminated a partially exposed strut. “And there.” He swung the light left, revealing a partial wheel, the other buried within the ice.
“Can you dig them out?” Paul checked his watch. It was almost twenty-one hundred hours. A little more than fifteen hours were left ‘til the sun peaked the horizon and turned the Ancient defense outpost into an offensive weapon against all of Antarctica and possibly beyond.
“Depends on how — ”
The ground began to tremble. Ice cracked and popped. As the interceptors’ wings vibrated, Paul held his breath, hoping it would only be a small aftershock.
He got his wish. A few seconds later, the ground settled down. The ice went on cracking for a few more moments, and then stopped.
Knowing next time they might not be so lucky, he pressed White for a timetable.
“We can use hacksaws to cut away the ice, sir, but I’m not sure we could clear enough to make a difference.”
“Let’s say you can. How long, Captain?”
White tugged at his balaclava. “The 302s can do up to Mach 6, but — ”
“The UN Security Council won’t like it, I know.” Even under these circumstances, he knew there was no way they’d waive the restriction. “Sub mach speed, then. How long?”
“Under Mach 1? Byrd’s about 1400 kilometers away, a little over 850 miles.”
“Three to four hours, sir.” Allen said, shutting off her flashlight.
Another, more distant round of rumbling started up and Paul braced himself. The sound grew closer and with it came a pair of headlights lighting up the entire expanse of the ice-bound runway.
It was another truck, pulling up to the frozen shoreline. As it came to a stop, Paul asked, “Any way you can shave off time without breaking UN protocols?”
“We could bring them to Marble Point,” Allen offered. “That’s only ten minutes away from the outpost. There are two tractor-trucks stationed there, sir.”
“What the hell’s going on?” demanded a new voice.
It was Ferguson. Hood flapping behind him, he stormed up to Paul. “Since when do you give the orders around here, Major?”
“Take it easy, Ken — ”
“That’s Colonel Ferguson, airman.”
Paul stiffened, but held his ground. “Fine, Colonel. My apologies.” He quickly outlined General Hammond’s orders. “We just need to figure out a way to break the tires free.”
“Why send a lieutenant when you can send a major?” Ken shook his head. “So now you’re Hammond’s messenger boy.”
“Colonel.” Paul dropped his voice so the pilots wouldn’t hear him. “Whatever your beef with me is, sir, it’ll have to wait. You know the stakes.”
“Getting the 302s out is only half the problem. We need a runway.” Ken waved a hand toward the ice. “As you can see, that’s not gonna happen.”
“We need those planes, Colonel.”
“Yeah, well, you need a lot of things including getting your head examined, but that can wait, too.” Ken yanked his hood up. “These birds can’t just jump up in the air, Major.”
“Jump… That’s it!”
“Excuse me? What the hell are you thinking?”
“I am thinking, Ken. That’s the point,” Paul said, irritated with his one-time friend.
Ken sputtered off a string of profanities and threats, but Paul ignored him. He returned to studying the 302s, skimming his flashlight along the pressure ridge for possible gaps that would allow the pilots entry into the cockpits.
The beam from his flashlight landed on a crevasse halfway across the ridge. “Is the ice safe to walk on?” he asked Captain White.
“Uh, yes, sir. There’s at least two hundred feet of ice underneath.”
“Good.” Paul walked out onto the ice, pointing his flashlight along the ridge, hoping to find another crevasse. He spotted one, less than a yard away from the other. Stepping closer, he aimed his flashlight into the six-foot high crack in the ice block.
Through the crack, he saw a 302’s canopy. An idea was brewing in the back of his mind, but it would take a lot of faith on the part of the pilots, and Ken, to make it happen.
Paul swung his flashlight beam back toward shore. “Colonel Ferguson, at General Hammond’s discretion, I must request that your pilots gain entry to these cockpits ASAP.”
“I told you,” Ken said. “We can’t get these birds up without a runway.”
“We won’t need it,” Paul replied. He ran back ashore.
“I don’t get it. How the hell are we gonna follow through on Hammond’s orders?”
“Ken, you’re a topnotch air jock, but you have to trust me.” Paul stopped in front of the F-302 wing commander. “We don’t need a runway.”
Being a colonel might have its advantages, but having the imagination needed for what had to be done next? That took the kind of eye-opening experience of someone who’d lived and breathed the Stargate Program since its inception. Paul had that kind of experience and right now, he wouldn’t trade it for all the promotions in the world.
He turned toward the pilots, hoping they’d follow his lead. “You’re going to jump, literally. Ground to space, and then back down right above Byrd Station.”
“How do you figure, sir?” asked Allen. “We don’t have a runway.”
“Forget the runway,” Paul said with a smile. “You’ll take the 302s up through a ground-to-orbit hyperspace window.”
“You’re nuts,” Ferguson said. “What the hell does a desk-jockey like you know about hyperspace windows?”
“Trust me, Ken. A lot more than there’s time to explain.”
Sam sat beside Weiyan’s foxhole, watching the images rush by with mixed emotions. While her head knew the Jaffa, the ships, even the transparent buildings were only that, images, every fiber in her being wanted to bolt toward General O’Neill, Daniel and Teal’c. She wanted to help, not do babysitting duty. The men tried hammering on the invisible walls that penned them in. Whatever held them was more than just a visual display.
Force fields, she decided. But what was the power source?
“We must save them.” Weiyan climbed from the hole. She stumbled to her knees.
“Take it easy.” Sam pushed her down to a sitting position. The girl had calmed down, but she was still breathing pretty hard. “I don’t think they’re in any danger.”
She crouched beside Weiyan and glanced down at her fleece pullover. It was dry. Clean. As if there’d never been any blood. With a nod from Weiyan, Sam lifted the lower half of the pullover. Nothing. Her abdomen was bare. “How do you feel?”
“Tired — Oh, no!” A reflection of blue light lit up Weiyan’s face.
“What?” Sam’s head whipped toward the building. A swath of blue streamed through its half-opened doors. The color was reminiscent of the Stargate’s kawoosh, and for a brief moment Sam wondered if the energy source was derived from the same quantum energy that powered the gate.
The light spread further outward, enveloping the four Dragon Guards by the doors. They clutched their throats as if they couldn’t breathe.
Though she wanted to believe her team wasn’t in danger, she jumped up and bolted toward them. She got no more than three feet from Weiyan when her head slammed into another of the transparent walls.
Ignoring the pain, Sam called out. “Sir!”
No answer. Her teammates didn’t hear her. Daniel pounded the air in front of him, frantic until Teal’c and the general grabbed hold of him and he dropped his fists.
The light intensified. From her vantage point, Sam could see the guards slapping their chests. A final burst of light shot outward, and the guards dropped to the ground.
The air rippled and the downed guards disappeared. The doors swung shut, but not before she got a glimpse of the light’s source. Inside, a central core of blue light gyrated and throbbed. Below the energy form was a glowing circular platform the size of a big jeep. Backlit trellised panels shored up the sides underneath.
The doors slammed shut.
“That has to be the power source.”
“Power to what?” Weiyan asked.
“Whatever brought us here. Whatever’s generating all this.” Sam raised her hands to indicate the valley. “It’s possible that some elaborate device — ”
“Created by the Ancients you mentioned?”
“Or someone else.” She tried to smile for Weiyan’s sake. It wasn’t easy with her team still trapped out of reach. “For someone who nearly bled to death, you ask a lot of questions.”
Weiyan wrapped her arms around her torso. “My mother refers to my questions as a bad habit.”
Sam was taken aback. “Hey, if it wasn’t for curiosity, humans would still be stuck in caves.”
Weiyan dropped her chin to chest.
Sam turned her attention back to the team. General O’Neill was talking to Daniel, patting him on the back while Teal’c seemed to be scanning the opposing hill. He pointed toward the top where a new set of images unfolded in a staggered fashion, like those old animated flipbooks. Four graves were dug by Jaffa. More Jaffa appeared, lowering four bodies shrouded in black cloth into the ground. Sam had to assume the bodies were those of the Dragon Guards.
She blinked and another scenario replaced it. This one was of a group of Jaffa constructing a statue out of red clay, several stories in height. They’d built up the back half, which seemed to resemble a dog sitting on its hind legs. Another image flashed. Everything but the statue’s head had been formed. Three nasty blades stuck out of its red clay spine.
“This is getting familiar,” she said as much to herself as to Weiyan. “We found one of those statues on P3Y-702. On a hill, just like that one. But that’s not possible.”
Who was she kidding? None of this was possible. They were being manipulated. The question was, by whom and why?
The view changed again, the statue completed. Its teeth, bulging jaw, and eye ridges stared down into the valley in ferocious protection of the graves at its base. A solitary figure stood beside the statue, dressed in the green hat and recognizable red over-vest of Lord Yu.
The air rippled and the System Lord disappeared, but the statue remained.
“A Zhenmushou?” asked Weiyan. “It is an ancient Chinese tradition, a funerary beast meant to protect the dead.”
Another image shimmered into life, right in front of the building. It was Lord Yu, again. As he stepped away from the building, a ring transporter activated and swept him away.
“Let’s just hope the dead don’t include the general, Daniel and Teal’c.” She cautiously raised a palm out in front of her and re-approached the force field. It felt solid enough. Smooth.
She slid her hand horizontally. “It’s not hot or cold. It’s just — ”
“There?” Weiyan asked. “To see the sun and moon is no sign of sharp sight.”
“That’s beautiful.” Sam dropped her hand down from the force field. “Maybe even more beautiful than this situation deserves.”
“The words of Sun Tzu are often that way, even though they are words of war.” Weiyan sighed. “I am grateful my father encouraged my reading of his work. Imagine how stunned he would be now to see such a large Zhenmushou!”
Sam looked over her shoulder at Weiyan. Her eyes shined with amazement, transfixed by the clay statue on the hill.
“Carter!” shouted General O’Neill.
“Finally!” Sam looked back toward her team, relieved the walls had vanished. The three raced toward her. In fact, everything had vanished with the exception of the statue and its freshly dug graves.
“It’s Kunlun, Sam!” Daniel dropped down beside Weiyan. “Lord Yu’s former home-world, P3Y-702.” He grabbed a handful of the dirt and hefted it in his hand. “The events we saw? Just like Yu described when — ”
“When he captured your sorry ass and almost got the rest of us killed,” the general said, frowning.
Teal’c crouched beside Daniel. That’s when Sam noticed the gray tinge to his skin.
“Teal’c, you all right?”
“I am well, Colonel Carter, a moment’s rest will suffice.” Teal’c sat down heavily. Sam knew he was overdue for a tretonin injection, but without a means of escape from their current dilemma, there wasn’t anything that could be done. He probably didn’t wish to alarm them.
“A bit of a break will do us all good.” General O’Neill plunked down on Teal’c’s other side. “Any guesses on why we’re getting the History Channel edition of Lord Yu’s life on this hellhole of a planet?”
Sam pointed toward the building. “I think the answer’s inside there, sir.”
“All right, Carter. You’re with me. Let’s go check that building out. You three stay here.”
Immediately, vibrations started up beneath her feet. “Sir?”
The vibrations turned to a loud rumble. Dirt and stones scattered across the ground.
“Let’s do it, Colonel.” He started to march off toward the building.
Within seconds, the ground ripped open between the general and his target. A chasm formed at least twenty-feet long and endlessly deep.
“This is getting old.” He took a step back and the ground sealed shut. He threw up his hands.
“I don’t remember a building like that when we were actually on P3Y-702.” Sam reported what little she’d seen of the device inside.
“I do,” Daniel said. “Those doors were hidden behind some of the other ruins. I tried prying them open just before the ring transporter grabbed me. There were Chinese pictograms on some of the walls describing Kunlun and how it was built by — ”
“Emperor Yu Huang Shang-Ti,” Weiyan offered. “There are many legends surrounding Kunlun. I have even heard it said that the emperor’s paradise was really a planet. An evil planet that destroyed the Emperor’s first Dragon Guards.”
Sam winced at the awe in Weiyan’s voice. Looking back over the valley, she wondered yet again how much of Earth’s ancient history was myth and how much was fact. Since the Stargate Program’s inception, the line dividing the two had thinned dramatically.
“Weiyan,” said Daniel behind her, “Chinese mythology places Kunlun on a mountain, not another planet.”
The air rippled. Sam tilted her head, curious to see what images would be displayed next.
Lord Yu’s ships shimmered into existence again, positioned only a few feet away. Behind them, the fortress walls also reappeared. This time, however, the images weren’t static. The Jaffa led slaves up into the Al’kesh while members of the original four battalions marched back up the mothership’s gantry, carrying large crates.
“Sir, those Jaffa. I’ll bet they’re carrying the Ancient photon emitter Yu has installed on his present home world.”
“Oh, goody.” General O’Neill groaned. “Another walk down memory lane.”
“Don’t you see, Jack?” Daniel waved a hand at the closing gantries. “We’re watching events play out the way they did a thousand years ago, exactly as Yu told us.”
“Then how come she knows so much?” the general asked, jerking his head toward Weiyan.
“My father told me,” Weiyan’s voice trembled. “He said Kunlun was not a myth, but I didn’t believe him. He told me everything… all of it…” She flung a hand out toward the building. “All of it has happened just as he said!”
“And just who-in-the-hell is your father?”
Her eyes lifted toward Sam, wide in desperation. “I thought his tales were make-believe. I thought he told me fairytales so he could pretend I was the little girl he had never known.” Weiyan buried her head in her hands.
The mothership’s hull slid downwards, covering its multi-tiered base underneath. Sam recognized the signs of pre-liftoff.
“Carter, we need answers.” General O’Neill jerked a thumb toward Weiyan. “Now, please.”
Sam dropped down besides the girl. “Weiyan, is your father a member of the IOA?”
“No. Please do not ask me more. I swore I would not say.”
“Do you want to get out of here or not?” General O’Neill said with remarkable restraint.
“I do!” Weiyan mumbled. “I just… I never thought…” Tears welled in her eyes, but Sam held back any demonstration of pity. The girl knew something. Something that could help them figure a way out of here.
“Weiyan Shi.” Teal’c placed a hand on her shoulder. “You must share how you obtained this information.”
Sam lifted the girl’s chin, forcing Weiyan to not look away. “If your father’s not IOA, is he military? Or an ambassador, maybe?”
“Was.” Weiyan’s eyes slid toward General O’Neill. “His name is Huang. Ambassador Huang.”
With a cracking boom, Yu’s ships blasted off.
Teal’c was so shaken by Weiyan Shi’s revelation that the departure of Lord Yu’s ships meant nothing. His teammates were equally stunned. O’Neill’s clenched jaw only served to accentuate his attempt to suppress his undoubted anger.
“I have done nothing wrong!”
The girl dashed tears from her eyes.
Her eyes. Teal’c leaned in for a closer view.
Weiyan Shi’s mouth quivered as he did so. “Forgive me, Teal’c. I did not know — ”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Teal’c assured her. “You are not guilty of your father’s crimes.”
The young woman did indeed have the intense black eyes marked with odd specks of green exhibited by both Yu’s First Prime Oshu and the spy Ambassador Huang. A spy who had nearly cost SG-1 their lives when he’d impeded their efforts to save Daniel Jackson a year ago.
Her features, however, were different. Her nose smaller. Her face more oval.
“Weiyan,” said Daniel Jackson. “If everything you’ve told us is true — ”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Daniel!” O’Neill grabbed Weiyan Shi’s shoulders and yanked her to her feet. “He put you up to this, didn’t he? Is Huang here somewhere, getting his rocks off, watching us run around like rats in a — ”
The ground trembled. Teal’c recognized the sign. O’Neill must control his temper.
Teal’c struggled to his feet, the task made all the more difficult by a weariness he could not ignore. None of the others seemed fatigued. Colonel Carter and Daniel Jackson had jumped to their feet with great alacrity.
“Where’s your father, Weiyan?” O’Neill shook her, his face dark with rage.
“Jack!” Daniel pushed O’Neill back from the girl. “Calm down!”
“Shut up, Daniel. She knows something.”
A great tremor erupted across the valley floor, throwing Teal’c to the ground once more.
Colonel Carter ran to his side. “You okay?”
“O’Neill must stop.” Teal’c pushed himself up to his knees. “His emotions — ”
A final shudder, Yu’s fortress collapsed to rubble, and the quake faded to a distant rumble. All that remained was the hill bearing the great statute, the building in question, and the Stargate perched upon the cliff.
Teal’c looked to O’Neill. His eyes were closed. His chest heaved heavily, his nostrils flared. Teal’c dared hoped his brother could contain himself.
Weiyan Shi had already succeeded in doing so. She had wrapped her arms about herself, inhaling long, slow breaths.
“That’s right,” Daniel Jackson said. “Keep calm, both of you. Jack, your abrasive general card won’t work here and you know it.”
Weiyan Shi sank down beside Teal’c. She squeezed his hand. “Are you all right?”
“I am well,” Teal’c lied. No purpose would be served by admitting a minor weakness. Not to her, not to any of his team. Whatever troubled him would surely pass. “It is you, or more specifically, your origins which are now the concern.”
Weiyan Shi wrung her hands. “I have told you everything I know. I spoke with my father only once. A year ago. It was then he told me he must go away. Forever.”
“Oh, he went away all right.” O’Neill opened his eyes. “To a nice padded cell in China. He was spying for that god-damned slimy, snakeheaded — ”
“Sir,” warned Colonel Carter as another tremor threatened.
O’Neill sucked in a long breath. He expelled it noisily. “Fine, Carter. You tell her. Tell her how — ” He turned away, shoving his hands in his pockets.
The tremor faded.
“Sir, there’s a bigger question here,” said Colonel Carter. “We know her father’s a clone from Janet Fraiser’s report.”
“A clone?” Weiyan Shi laid her palm against her abdomen. “That is why he could not tell me the truth. That is why…” Her voice became inaudible.
“Weiyan,” said Colonel Carter, “your father’s genetic markers date back 4,000 years. Were you and your mother both tested by the IOA?”
“My mother,” Weiyan Shi gulped, as if mention of the one who had born her was painful. “She doesn’t have the necessary genetics to power the great chair.”
“Then Ambassador Huang must carry the Ancient gene,” Teal’c said. Weiyan Shi’s small hand tightened within his own. Though her grasp should have felt as nothing, Teal’c hands ached. He released her grip and flexed his fingers. His elbows and shoulders ached as well.
“Is my father an alien like you?” asked Weiyan Shi.
Daniel Jackson knelt down beside her once more. “Your father’s completely human.”
“Cloned from a human,” Colonel Carter emphasized. “A human who not only lived 4,000 years ago, but must have been a direct descendent of the Ancients, just like — ”
“Like Jack.” Daniel Jackson removed his glasses and gazed kindly into Weiyan Shi’s eyes. “Look, I know this sounds crazy, but if Yu was telling the truth, your ancestor was Sun Tzu.”
“When you think about it,” Colonel Carter said, “it’s amazing your mother even conceived. Four-thousand years of cloning would degrade the original DNA sample, no matter how much the Goa’uld used advanced Ancient technology.”
Weiyan Shi’s eyes widened. “If Lord Yu is a Goa’uld and he made my father, he cannot be bad.”
Teal’c interjected, believing the record must be set straight. “Lord Yu is a parasitical creature, falsely claiming to have been your original emperor.”
Daniel Jackson slid his glasses back on. “I’m not so sure his claims were false.”
Clink. Snap.
O’Neill had retrieved his lighter from his pocket and was now flipping it open and shut mindlessly, his attention on the building.
“Perhaps we will find our answers in the one constant throughout these apparitions,” Teal’c observed.
O’Neill twisted toward him, a half-smile upon his lips. “Now you’re talking. I could give a rat’s ass about clones and gene pools. If Yu’s in there — ”
Kawoosh.
The recognizable sound of the Stargate heralded its activation. Teal’c turned toward the cliff as the violent plunge of water settled into a stable event horizon.
“Carter? Any chance the gate’s not a figment?”
Four figures emerged. Although they were too far away to ascertain their identities, Teal’c immediately recognized their khaki BDU pants, jackets and black tactical vests.
O’Neill stuck a forefinger and thumb in his mouth and whistled. “Over here!”
“Sir…”
“It’s an SG team, Carter.”
“I don’t think so, Jack.” Daniel Jackson slung a hand under Teal’c’s arm and assisted him to rise.
As Weiyan joined them, they watched the four-man team descend along the side of the cliff and stride toward them. One of them had orange-red hair.
“What the hell’s Balinsky doing here?” O’Neill growled. “I sent orders to Walter to kick his ass off of SG-13.” He stormed toward the team. “Took you enough time, Dixon!”
Colonel Dixon walked directly through O’Neill.
“Great, more ghosts!”
SG-13 strode toward the crumbled walls of what had once been Yu’s fortress. The team neared the ruins and their images dissolved.
The air rippled yet again, stirring up a great wave of dust that drifted toward them. The dust dissipated, revealing a more recognizable scene. SGC archaeologists dug trenches, others strung lines around several foot-deep holes. A tall, dark-skinned man with long plaits and a shovel jumped down into one such hole, shouting to an assistant who scurried in his direction.
“That’s Kevin Hopkins.” Daniel Jackson ran to the lead archaeologist. A college roommate, Teal’c recalled. Daniel Jackson waved a hand through the man’s head, but Dr. Hopkins never flinched.
“And you wonder why instant replay was never approved in baseball.” O’Neill pointed at the Stargate as another SG team — dressed in khaki uniforms and tactical vests — climbed down from the cliff. One carried a staff weapon.
Teal’c recognized the team member immediately. He was the man carrying the staff weapon. “This is indeed a faithful rendition of events.”
“Yeah, super faithful,” O’Neill’s voice cracked.
The imagery sped up in a blur. The phantom version of SG-1 stopped by Kevin Hopkins, conferred, and then moved onward. Then Colonel O’Neill hefted a backpack toward the hill bearing the funerary statute. Daniel Jackson followed at a distance, his boonie-covered head turned toward the dig. Teal’c’s doppelganger joined the then Major Carter and walked the camp’s perimeter.
A moment passed and the images subtly changed. Teal’c’s ghost-double conferred with Major Carter at the base of the far hill. A single rifle shot rang out. He glanced upwards toward the hill as a shower of red clay sprayed forth from the Zhenmoushu’s claws.
Daniel Jackson’s ghost descended from the hill, his face flushed with indignation. He stormed toward the ruined walls. Placing a hand against the building’s doors, he tilted his head upwards and stepped back as if to obtain a better view. A great wash of light surrounded Daniel Jackson and he disappeared as a ring transporter took hold.
All that remained was his boonie cast upon the ground.
Teal’c turned his gaze upon the real O’Neill. His Tau’ri brother gripped the lighter, his eyes haunted with inner pain.
The need to assure O’Neill that these were merely specters of the past drove Teal’c to approach him. “We cannot change — ”
Dizziness clouded Teal’c’s vision. His body became numb.
“Teal’c!”
Fatigue overcame him and he collapsed to the ground.
“Come on, T.” Jack shook Teal’c’s arm. “Wake up!”
Nothing. Teal’c’s face had taken on a definite gray tinge, almost like he was —
Nope, Jack wasn’t even going to think it. He pressed two fingers against Teal’c’s neck. There was pulse, barely. Jack glanced over his shoulder at that hellhole of a building, ready to take it apart brick-by-brick for answers.
Daniel dropped down on Teal’c’s other side. “Does he need his tretonin?”
“If he does, he’s outta luck.” Jack slapped Teal’c face lightly. “Come on, buddy boy. Rise and shine.”
“Wake up, Teal’c,” Weiyan sobbed behind Jack. “I am trying, cannot you?”
What the hell did that mean?
Teal’c’s eyes fluttered opened. “O’Neill, what has happened?”
Jack let himself breathe for the first time since Teal’c had passed out. “Okay, don’t do that.”
Teal’c harrumphed. “I did not do anything.”
“Sorry, Teal’c.” Carter knelt down beside Jack. “You did kinda pass out there. How are you feeling?”
“I am well.” With a barely hidden grimace, Teal’c pushed himself up onto his elbows.
Putting a hand on Teal’c’s chest, Jack stopped him. “Nice try, but stay put for the moment.”
Teal’c sunk back, giving in way too easily.
Weiyan brushed by, wrapping her arms around the big guy’s neck. “You will live?”
“He’ll be his normal self in no time. That is,” Jack gently pulled her away, “if you give him breathing room.”
Carter shot him a look. A look that meant trouble.
He let go of Weiyan’s arm. “What?”
Carter jerked her chin toward a spot a few feet off from Teal’c’s position. Getting her message, Jack climbed to his feet and followed her out of earshot.
As Carter turned toward him, Jack noticed the bruises under her eyes. The kind she got when she’d been up for days straight. They’d been plopped down in this crap for a few hours, but days? Not even his internal clock was that messed up.
Or was it? His memory had played some nasty tricks on him when they’d first arrived.
He sighed. “A few real answers would be nice about now, Carter.”
“Sir, if Teal’c continues to deteriorate…”
“You think he needs tretonin?”
“Maybe.”
“Or maybe whatever hit those Dragon Guards got to Teal’c, too.”
“Honestly? I think he was weakening even before those doors opened up.” She slumped, a very un-Carter-like thing to do. “Once Yu’s ships… I mean, those images — ”
“I get it.” Jack rubbed his face. “I’m pretty beat myself, but how come we’re not hungry or thirsty?”
“Or why Weiyan’s stomach bled out like that, and now — ”
“She seems fine.” Jack glanced toward Teal’c. Weiyan cradled his beefy hands while Daniel chattered on about god-knows-what. “Any chance her being here is just one big coincidence?”
Carter shook her head. “I doubt it, sir. What we just witnessed pretty much matches Daniel’s account from when Lord Yu held him hostage last year.”
She shifted her gaze toward the building, the one constant throughout this nightmare. “I barely remember that building from our visit a year ago. What is it about this place? Why the show and for who’s benefit? Lord Yu captured Daniel as a sort of test, but — ”
“Yeah, wasn’t that a fun time?” He glanced down at a smooth, brown pebble he’d unearthed. If buildings and motherships could come and go, why were simple things like pebbles still around?
“The bigger question we should be asking is who’s pulling the strings?” He knelt down to pick up the pebble. “You ever get the feeling that every time we’ve tied off a knot, the thread just unravels somewhere else?”
Carter sighed. “Pretty much.”
He stood up. Out of the blue, a buzzing noise filled his ears. Carter said something, but he couldn’t hear her.
He must have stood up too fast. He took a deep breath and his ears popped, like a rubber band smacking against a wall. The buzzing was gone. “What the hell?”
“Sir, are you all right?”
“Sam! Jack!” Daniel called. “Behind you!”
Jack whirled around.
And got a good, hard look at himself. Or rather, a khaki-clad phantom version. P90 in hand, favorite ball cap firmly in place, he — or rather, the phantom — stopped about twenty some-odd feet away and faced the building. Though his double shouted out soundlessly, Jack knew exactly what he’d said that day.
Daniel!
The phantom whirled toward the funky Unas-looking statue on the far-off hill. He raised a hand to his mouth and shouted. Soundless.
Daniel!
“Sir,” Carter whispered, “none of this is real.”
“No kidding.” Though he believed her, the pebble in his hand said different.
Jack threw the pebble at his doppelganger. It sailed right through. He followed the pebble’s trajectory as it skittered to the ground a few feet away and kicked up a puff of dust and sand.
“General!” Carter called out.
Still charging forward, his khaki-clad other stormed right through him without as much as a ripple. It was as if his current self had no impact on the bigger things at stake.
Yet another reminder of just how useless he felt. Here. At the SGC. Even at the Ancient outpost.
The buzzing returned with a vengeance. “Do you hear that?”
Carter raised an eyebrow. “Hear what?”
Another snap. The buzzing quit again. “It sounded like… I dunno, Carter, like bees, or a machine, or some — ”
A shadow passed overhead. He glanced up, saw the source, and while he should’ve been surprised, he wasn’t.
That was the problem with reruns. No surprises.
An Al’kesh dropped out of the sky, honing in on his departing double’s six. Both the ship and his other self headed toward the cliff, an activated Stargate precariously perched on its edge. The saucer-shaped Goa’uld ship laid down round after rapid round of weapons fire as his other self scrambled up the cliff.
As he watched himself climb, Jack remembered how the chase had pumped his heart. The world had narrowed down to survival. Reach the gate. Stay alive.
Of course, last time this happened, he didn’t have quite the same view. “Talk about an out-of-body experience.”
Behind him, another set of footsteps pounded the dirt, headed his way.
“Jesus, Jack!” Daniel stopped beside him, eyes bulging. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t.” Another round of fire shattered the pathway leading from the cliff’s topside to the active gate. His younger self rolled sideways as more enemy fire peppered the ground. Finally, in an act of bravado — or stupidity, Jack still couldn’t say which it had been that day — he dived into the active gate and disappeared.
The Al’kesh did, too.
“Fun stuff, huh?” He missed that kind of action. No boring papers to sign. No casualty reports to read. No pandering to politicians.
Jack pulled out his old Zippo. Huang’s kid, the crazy quakes, the lighter. It all added up to something. His thumb rubbed over the case, a pesky thought niggling at him.
Screw it. There was only one way to find out.
He eyed Weiyan. “She’s got something to do with all this. Stay here.”
“Jack, what are you doing?”
“A different approach.” He marched toward the girl stuck by Teal’c’s side like there was no tomorrow.
“You miss it, don’t you?” Daniel called out. “The missions, the fight. You can’t do it all, Jack.”
“T-shirts, Daniel!”
“Excuse me?”
Jack didn’t break his stride. “Make mine a double XL.”
Daniel wasn’t the only member of the ‘if-only’ club.
By the time Ambassador Zhu finished explaining the details of her short-term marriage to Lord Yu’s spy, George wasn’t sure whether to pity her or be outraged.
He’d yet to make up his mind when the bandage on her left cheek fell off, exposing a three-inch cut. Blood oozed from its edges. “Are you all right, Madame Ambassador?”
Zhu palmed her wound. “Compared to my daughter? This is nothing.”
“General Hammond?” The click-clack of Lee’s keyboard kept up for a few moments, and then, “If these numbers are right, the device sent out a significant blast of photonic energy during that last quake.”
“In which direction, Doctor?” George braced himself, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer.
“There were multiple epicenters this time.” Lee squinted at the monitor. “From fifty miles away to a few hits several thousand miles off. Up near the Magallanes-Fagnano fault line.” He looked up, frowning. “That fault line stretches almost 500 miles from the Pacific Ocean into Argentina.”
“Doctor, I suggest you return your focus to shutting down the device.” Noting Simmons’ absence, George listened to the scurried footsteps and command barks emanating through the archway. What personnel were left proceeded with evacuations. The emergency exit door thudded shut.
The door!
Bolting up from Zhu’s side, he joined Lee by the computers. “Could the Ancients have built an entryway of some type that might access the lower level?”
“If they did, we never found it.” Lee switched the display to a schematic of the outpost’s various chambers. A quick count told him there was six, but all on one floor.
George eyed the force field. “There has to be an entrance leading from this floor down to the next. We just didn’t look hard enough. Airman?”
Lt. Gerling stuck her head in from just outside the archway. “Sir?”
“Take Lt. Brooks with you. I don’t want one inch of this outpost left untouched. If there’s another way down into that device, find it.”
“Yes, sir.” Gerling headed toward the main chamber.
George refocused on Ambassador Zhu and the ‘Huang problem.’ Her former marriage to an enemy spy put an entirely new spin on their situation.
He should be more surprised. For some reason, he wasn’t. Standing two-hundred feet inside a glacier that could come down on his ears at any moment brought home the key lesson he’d learned in his eight years with the Stargate Program — crows always come home to roost.
In this particular situation, Huang was the crow and the Ancient weapons platform was the roost. A vital, but now dangerous, roost.
“You’ve put me in a difficult position,” he told Zhu. “By your own admission, vital information that would’ve affected the IOA’s selection of your daughter, and your post as ambassador — ”
Zhu laughed, the sound bitter and empty. “If the Chinese government can see past a family member’s crimes — ”
“Ambassador, I don’t blame you for Huang’s actions, but the fact that Weiyan’s overpowering ATA genetics are behind our predicament…”
“What do Huang’s actions have to do with Weiyan’s abilities?”
“There are security issues,” he said half-heartedly. When the president had deemed the circumstances surrounding Huang’s origins should be kept under wraps, current circumstances hadn’t even been part of the picture.
“Security issues?” Zhu’s eyes widened. “If she was your daughter, wouldn’t you want to know?”
“It’s getting colder in here.” He tugged his parka’s zipper up higher.
“General, I deserve the truth.”
“It’s not that simple, Madame Ambassador.”
She gazed down at her daughter and sighed. “It never is.”
Quit stalling, George.
He told her everything he knew.