Once the bird was out over international waters with a half moon as its only companion, Jack loosened his grip on the flight stick and flipped his radio back on. While he supposedly had a secure channel, betting against Chinese Intelligence wasn’t exactly a gamble he felt like taking.
“Mission Command,” he said into the radio, “this is Outpost One. Package received. En route to disembarkation point.”
A few hisses. A couple of pops. Then Davis’ voice broke though. “Roger, Outpost One. Standby for General Hammond.”
“Standing by.” Well, sort of. At their current altitude of 20 miles above sea level, Mach 6 meant flying along at… He hated math. Checking his airspeed gauge, he noted a cozy little 4,102 mph.
“This is Hammond. Report, Outpost One.”
“Good to hear your voice, sir. I estimate arrival time in T minus 90 minutes and counting.”
“I trust you had no troubles obtaining your objective, General?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle, sir.” Jack winced. It was a bit of lie, but not by much. Landing at the Beijing airstrip had been a piece of cake. The thing rode the runway like a Cadillac. Getting out of the F-302 had been another matter entirely. Especially when several hundred of the Chinese Republic’s million-man army and a slew of high-powered spotlights greeted him. Communism at its finest. All nicely lined up, their rifles trained right on him. Chairman Mao would’ve been proud.
An armored tank rolled up to the bird. The top hatch popped open and a middle-aged man poked his head out. “Zhōng zhǐ!”
The Chinese dropped their weapons. The guy looked familiar, but he knew it wasn’t Huang. Wrong face shape and besides, the guy wouldn’t go from being in a mental hospital to leading a battalion.
Dressed in a dark blue suit, the man climbed down from the tank and motioned for the two nearest soldiers to climb on up. As they did, another man came up the hatch. Though his hair had been shorn off to a shiny buzz cut, they’d let him keep the goatee, though it’d gone completely gray. It was a longer, more straggly mess than the last time Jack had seen him.
The two soldiers lifted Huang out of the hatch and that’s when Jack noticed the cuffs on his wrists and ankles. He hated to admit it, but those restraints gave him peace of mind.
The soldiers lowered Huang to the tarmac. Besides a dark smudge on the guy’s forehead, he seemed relatively cleaned up though Jack suspected it’d been a while since his last meal. He wore loose-fitting black pants and a matching collarless shirt.
Another soldier stuck his head out of the hatch and threw down a heavy winter parka. A soldier picked it up and shoved it over Huang’s shoulders.
Obviously, they weren’t fully informed on where Jack intended to take Huang. That was fine by him.
At the other man’s lead, the soldiers escorted him toward the F-302. Between the soldier’s open glares, the shuffling of Huang’s cuffed ankles, and the oppressively hot Beijing weather, Jack had to muster up every discipline he knew not to shout at their idiocy. If they thought Huang was going anywhere near Antarctica, they were wrong. Dead wrong.
As they stopped a few feet short of the gantry, Jack took a long hard look at Huang’s face. The man had single-handedly arranged for SG-1’s demise while in Yu’s clutches. Though he wasn’t a Goa’uld, and not even a Jaffa, he was still the enemy.
And those pitch-black pupils edged with green flecks still gave him an unearthly look.
“General O’Neill,” said the leader, “your photos do not do you justice.”
“Okay, and who might you be?”
The man bowed. “I am the people’s true ambassador to the Security Council.”
Jack snapped his fingers. “You’re Ambassador Chen. I’ve seen your photo.”
“And?”
What did the guy want, a compliment? Jack hated diplomacy. “Kinda hot for a winter coat, don’t you think?” He jerked a thumb at Huang’s parka.
Chen shrugged. “It is barely above room temperature.”
“Yeah, right.” And the sky’s not blue, it’s green. Jack just loved playing footsies with the Chinese.
He gestured at Huang. “If your goons wanna get Huang stowed on board, I’ll be on my way.”
“In a moment.” Chen strode up to the F-302 and placed a hand on its belly. “We have long awaited — ”
A low rumble followed by a good round of ground shaking stopped the ambassador from asking any questions about the fighter-interceptor. He flung out a few clipped orders to his men, they dragged Huang up the gantry and into the cockpit, and Jack hustled them down before they got a closer look.
After strapping in his silent passenger, Jack hopped in. Another trembler shook the tarmac, sending rippled waves of heat across the asphalt. With a quick salute to Chen — and no complaints — he got the bird out of there as fast as possible.
A half-hour out of Beijing, he finally let himself breathe, hence the radio-call to Hammond. “Ah, General? We felt a couple of quakes in Beijing before I left. How bad is it elsewhere?”
“Bad enough, Jack. Sydney’s been hit, but we expected that. Australia’s less than five thousand miles off the coast. However, there’s been reports as far away as Russia.”
Jack checked his watch. It was a cheap little Timex, courtesy of Airman Gerling. “We’ve got eleven hours left by my count.”
“Affirmative. I’ve paused the explosives countdown to give you, Colonel Carter, and Dr. Jackson every spare moment I can, just — ” The radio fell back into a bed of pops and hisses.
“General?”
“Hurry back, son.”
“Uh, roger that.” Jack signed off. He knew what Hammond really meant to say was, ‘Don’t screw it up.’
Jack could do that. Couldn’t he? Even if he had to stick his hands inside a veritable funhouse of Ancient technology and let the machinery have a poke around his head? Sure, he’d do whatever it took to save Earth.
Screw Sun Tzu and his little book of war. Fame and disgrace had nothing to do with it.
An alarm chimed. He glanced down at a blinking red light over the proximity sensor. Probably a commercial plane heading toward Japan.
Switching his grip on the flight stick, he adjusted the navigational computer. Normally, the aft seat co-pilot charted their course, but that seat was taken so he’d slaved the nav-com up front.
He punched in a slightly tweaked setting. The computer beeped and a fat red error blinked across the screen. “Damn computer. Too many things to do.”
“Lamentations will only hinder deeds.” The clink of metal cuffs from the aft seat reminded Jack he had a passenger.
“So you do speak.” He re-entered his course correction and the nav-com display switched from red to green.
“When words are necessary,” Huang said.
“And was it necessary to get me and my team almost killed last year?”
Huang sighed. “My Lord Yu believed it so, yes. I did not expect you to survive the encounter.”
“Surprise!” Jack snorted. “Your slimy, snake-in-the-head, boom-box leader didn’t want to kill us. He just wanted see if we could kick Anubis’s butt once and for all.”
“Anubis?”
“Yeah, remember him? Cranky. Half-Goa’uld, half something else?” Jack held back on saying what. If Yu’s spy didn’t know Anubis had been half-ascended, there wasn’t any reason to tell him. “Wore a long robe with a hood. Looked like something out of Star Wars.”
“Wore,” Huang repeated. “He no longer survives?”
Jack grinned. “That’s right. We kicked his smarmy little ass. No thanks to your fearless leader, I might add.”
The memory of how they’d stopped Anubis made the grin slide right off — sitting in that Ancient weapons chair, his brain so stuffed with data that he couldn’t breathe. And this time… What was it Skaara had said?
Operating the chair would be a cakewalk compared to retrieving the crystal.
Oh, joy.
The F-302 sliced through a puffy bank of clouds backlit by the moon. Jack checked their position. Several hundred miles off the island of Maui.
“How is he?” Huang said.
“Anubis? Dead.”
The cuffs clinked again. “No, I mean my master. Lord Yu.”
“Your master.” Jack twisted around in his seat harness and pushed back his helmet to get a good look at Huang. “I don’t think he’s missing you very much.”
Huang averted his eyes. “I am a Dragon Guard.”
“You’re a clone. I’ve met your replacement.” Jack settled back into his chair. “Actually, I met several generations. How does it feel, knowing you’re just another in a long assembly line of carbon copies, not really meaning much in the grand scheme of things?”
“You would not understand,” Huang whispered, his voice barely heard above the whine of the aero spike engines.
“Understand what?” That every time I lose a man and write up another casualty report, that I feel like I’m chipping away at a piece of myself?
“How do you know about the Dragon clones?”
Maui went by. He altered course again, deciding to take the F-302 over Alaska and then straight down into Colorado.
“Yu told us all about them. In fact, when he did, your name never came up.”
“By ‘us’ you mean SG-1? And yet, where is your team now? How is it you came for me alone?” Again, the cuffs clinked.
When Jack didn’t answer, Huang added, “I know what it means to be alone, O’Neill.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, there are only two seats. Didn’t Yu teach you how to count?” He tweaked the flight stick, pulling them up another five miles to avoid any commercial flights. “Besides, I like being alone.”
“’It is impossible for the brave to advance alone, or for the cowardly to retreat alone.’” Clink. “So says Sun Tzu.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “I know the quote. If it matters any, your kid spouted off all sorts of Art of War crap during our, uh…” Shared illusion? Yeah, that experience didn’t need explaining.
“Weiyan. You saw my daughter?”
Off to the east, Jack saw the first hints of sunrise. Pink and yellow striated clouds hovered above the horizon. A reminder of what waited for them in Antarctica if they got back in time. “Where do you get off, leaving a kid like that? People like you should never be allowed to have children.”
“I realize this. In ways you would never understand.”
“Weiyan’s a brave girl, Huang. Despite you abandoning her.”
“I see.”
“You should,” Jack said, pointing out the starboard window. “You have the best seat in the house.”
He nudged the nose north. At their current speed, they’d be over Alaska in about ten minutes.
“Tell me of my daughter, O’Neill.”
And there it was, the real reason Jack had opted to do this milk run solo. For Weiyan’s sake.
“No thanks to you, she’s got backbone.” Jack told him everything. Including the fact that his daughter lay dying in a cold, frozen wasteland.
And if Huang didn’t do his part in retrieving that crystal, pretty much everyone would follow soon after.
Daniel hurried out of the elevator and onto level 28, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He’d had two hours to nap, shower, dress in camo gear, and sling back enough coffee to keep him going for whatever came next. That, and ten minutes to stuff a few items in a pack. Not everything he packed was essential, but he’d had a last minute inspiration thanks to a side trip to the archives and a quick talk with Dr. Kevin Hopkins.
Daniel ran toward the armory, the precious item stowed in his pack. Huang. He was going to meet a direct descendent of Sun Tzu. If circumstances weren’t so extreme, he’d have a million questions.
He knew he should trust Skaara, but he was half-terrified. The plan relied too heavily on Huang and Jack working together. Daniel just couldn’t see that being a successful partnership.
At the armory, he grabbed a pistol and was halfway to the gate room, when the master-of-arms chased him down. “General’s orders, sir.” He handed Daniel a P90 along with a sling and two magazines.
Daniel shoved the magazines in a pant-leg pocket and took the rifle. He waved off the sling. He hated the idea of being strapped to a rifle. Shifting his pack to his left shoulder, he headed toward the blast doors, the P90 cradled in his right arm. The airman on guard slid his security card through the lock. The doors opened, revealing Sam over by the gantry, a P90 dangling from her chest.
Her wet bangs told him she’d rushed through their two-hour window just as fast. The real Graham Simmons — or at least, he hoped it was the real one — handed her a scanner. Daniel wondered if she’d told the lieutenant about Skaara’s impersonation. Probably wasn’t a good idea, all things considered.
Especially if it really wasn’t the lieutenant. Could Skaara still be around, keeping an eye on things?
There was only one way to find out. Daniel headed over to join them. “Graham, how are you?”
The lieutenant grinned. “I’m doing pretty good, sir. You?”
It sounded like Graham.
“Good, good.” Daniel looked closely at his face, his clothes, his hair —
“That’ll be all, lieutenant.” Sam grabbed Daniel’s elbow and pulled him to the far wall. “That isn’t Skaara.”
“You’re sure?”
“Too many contractions.” She punched a few buttons on her scanner. A yellow light flashed on the display. She tapped in another series on the keypad and the light winked out.
“Sam?”
She flipped the scanner over. “Yeah?”
“Any word from the outpost?”
Sliding the battery case open and shut, she turned the scanner right side up and thumbed the ‘on’ button.
“Got your eyes and ears?” he asked, only half-teasingly.
“What?” She looked up from the scanner. “Oh, sorry, Daniel.” She stuffed it inside her tactical vest pocket with a frown. “I spoke to General Hammond a few minutes ago.”
“And?”
“Weiyan’s still alive, but the general doesn’t seem to think she’ll last much longer. Teal’c’s with her. Based on,” she hesitated, “past observations, she won’t ascend until she’s ready to, um… What I mean to say, is…”
“Die?” He understood Sam’s discomfort. While he couldn’t quite remember the last moments before his own ascension, he’d regained painful memories of the radiation sickness. Flashes of dialogue with Oma, with Sam, with Teal’c. His last moments with Jack.
I think I can do more this way. Please, Jack. Tell Jacob to stop.
Had he done more? Had he made a difference?
As if summoned by the memory, Jack strode in, dressed in camo, P90 hanging from his sling. Sergeant Walter Harriman followed him, waving a clipboard.
“General,” said Walter, “the president left orders not to initiate evacuation to the Alpha Site. If I do this — ”
“Last I checked, the president doesn’t have a crystal ball.” Jack yanked the clipboard from Walter, signed it, and handed it back. “Tell him I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’d rather have him fire my ass afterwards than take any chances.”
“But — ”
“Come on, Walter.” Jack tugged his cap’s bill. “Nothing beats an old-fashioned ‘I told you so.’ On the other hand — ”
“If President Hayes is wrong,” Walter recited, “Earth will crack open.”
“Like an egg.” Jack turned toward Daniel and Sam. “You two ready to go?”
“Yes, sir.” Sam glanced up at the operations room. “We removed the lock on P3Y-702 from the dialing computer.”
“Where’s Huang?” Daniel slipped his P90 between his legs so he could fasten his pack to his vest-back.
“The doc’s making sure he eats a good meal before we leave.” Jack jerked his chin toward Daniel’s pack. “We’re only going for four, maybe five hours. Whatcha got in there?”
“Nothing.” Daniel kept his face impassive.
Jack waggled a finger at him. “You brought a copy of The Art of War for the guy to sign.”
“Funny.” Daniel picked up his P90. “Is this necessary?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think Yu’s going to bother us.”
“You know the cliché, Daniel. Better safe than sorry.” He turned toward Walter. “Dial it up, Sergeant.”
“Yes, sir.”
The blast doors slid open once again. Huang, his wrists and ankles in cuffs, shuffled into the room with SG-13 right behind him — everyone except Balinsky. They were also dressed up in camo gear, including Kevin Hopkins who’d been drafted in the past twenty-four hours to be their new team member. Unlike the others, Kevin didn’t have a weapon out and drawn on the prisoner.
Colonel Dave Dixon kept his M-16 trained on Huang as they made their way over to the gantry. Though Daniel had never met Huang before, he couldn’t help but notice how worn out the man seemed. Gaunt, hollow-eyed, his thin beard white and ragged. He didn’t see any resemblance to Yu’s current First Prime, Oshu until the man lifted his chin and stared up at the Stargate. Then the green flecks in Huang’s dark eyes matched Oshu’s exactly.
The gate began to spin. Steam rose from the bulky red capacitors. The inner ring ground along its track, the sound echoing against the gate room’s cement walls. The ring slowed, stopped, and the first chevron lit up.
“Chevron One encoded,” Walter announced over the PA system.
The ring circled back around. A half-sob escaped Huang’s throat. “I never stopped believing.”
“Quiet down,” barked Dixon.
Daniel cringed. “Jack, is it really necessary to treat the man this way?”
“Chevron Two encoded.”
“I never stopped hoping,” Huang whispered.
Dixon raised his M16 directly into the old man’s face. “I said, quiet down.”
Daniel shared an uncomfortable look with Kevin.
Huang stepped around Dixon’s rifle. “So long. I have — ”
Ka-chink.
“Where’s Siler?” asked Jack.
“I’m here!” Siler ran in, backpack in hand. He buckled it onto Jack’s vest. “Sorry, sir. Took a moment to find — ”
“I’ve got it from here.” Jack handed his pack to Sam and turned around. Keeping her face neutral, she secured it to his vest-back.
“Chevron Six encoded.”
Startled, Daniel looked up at the gate. The first six chevrons were lit up. He’d been so caught up in the tension in the room, he hadn’t heard Walter announce Chevrons four and five. A half-second later, the seventh one locked into place.
“Chevron Seven locked.”
The Stargate’s brilliant blue kawoosh erupted and then settled into place. Huang’s mouth dropped open, he took a step back, right into the butt end of Dixon’s rifle.
“Don’t move until we tell you.” Dixon looked at Jack. “We’re ready, General.”
“Thank you, Colonel.” Jack pushed down on his ball cap. “We’ll take it from here.”
“You’re joking, right?” Dixon glanced at Huang and then back at Jack. “This guy’s shenanigans almost got a whole bunch of our people killed. Since when do we play buddies with the enemy?”
The gate room shuddered, sending ripples across the event horizon. The quake didn’t last long, but it was enough to make Dixon’s eyes widen.
“Since we started monkeying with gadgets way out of our league.” Jack raised two fingers toward gate. “Move out, SG-1.”
“Daniel!” Kevin Hopkins called.
Daniel stopped and turned back toward his old roommate.
“Good luck,” he mouthed.
With a nod of thanks, Daniel stepped through the gate, hoping that luck would be enough.
Sunrise greeted Daniel as he followed Sam through the gate and out the other side. A rose-colored wash of light blanketed the valley below, the planet’s usual heat camouflaged by an early morning breeze. He climbed down the steps, scanning the valley for any signs of life, be it Lord Yu, his Jaffa, or even Skaara.
A sense of déjà vu teased him, and for a moment he wondered if they were still in the device’s throes. Then he caught sight of the SGC’s abandoned dig from a year ago. White flags flapped in the breeze, their ends attached to ropes surrounding the various trenches dug by team archaeologists. A few trees wilted in the barren dirt. On a hill off to the left loomed the three-story tall Zhenmushou statue.
At the valley’s other end stood the chamber. Its high brown walls almost colorless against the rising sun.
A thwap from the event horizon. Jack stepped through, his hand on Huang’s elbow. It didn’t stop the old man from dropping to his knees in awe.
Jack gently pulled him back up. “Carter, my lower pocket.”
“He’s not going to be much help to us cuffed,” Daniel said.
“I hope you’re right,” Jack said as Sam slipped behind him.
Huang’s eyes never left the Zhenmushou. “My ancestors… I must pay my respects.”
“Not going to happen,” Jack said.
Huang dropped his head. “I understand.”
“I hope that you do.”
“Come on, Jack. I think the three of us are enough to keep him from causing any — ”
“Got it, sir.” Sam handed a key ring over to Jack.
He bent down and unlocked Huang’s leg cuffs, then his hands. The cuffs clanked against the gate’s stone platform as they dropped. “Happy now?”
By the time the sun had risen above the horizon, they’d climbed down the hill and headed toward the chamber. Meter-high obelisks lined the half-dirt, half-paved walkway, their Ancient letters worn away by age. Daniel hoped one day to come back, to study the obelisks and figure out if they matched the ones he’d seen in their vision, dream, or whatever it had been. Though Skaara had shared what had caused the plague, he’d left out specifics. Daniel still had a lot of questions.
Huang never took his eyes off the Zhenmushou as they passed beneath its shadow. He grinned broadly until he noticed the four excavated graves beneath the statue’s base. The grin dropped away.
“I would ask why you chose to disturb my ancestors’ remains, but the answer would have little meaning.” He looked at Daniel, his eyes as dark and hard as the paved stone beneath their feet.
Jack kept up the pace with Sam at his side. They had at least another ten minute hike ahead of them and by Daniel’s watch, that left them less than four hours to open the chamber, retrieve the crystal, and gate back to the waiting F-302s to go back to Antarctica.
Daniel glanced at Huang. “If your ancestors were originally from Earth, how did you get back there, by ship?”
“Through the Chappa’ai, of course.” The old man gazed again at the statue. “The one in Antarctica. It was long ago, fifty years in fact. I fought past many Serpent Guards to reach it — they fought bravely, their marksmanship superlative. Particularly one, I remember — a tall, dark powerful Jaffa. I escaped, following two others to your land.”
“Tall and dark, you say?” commented Jack. “Carter, sound like anyone we know?”
“I doubt it, sir. If Teal’c knew about the Antarctic gate, wouldn’t he have told us when he joined SG-1?” Sam looked at Huang over her shoulder. “A few years ago, we found two Jaffa frozen in the ice by the gate. We’d always assumed they’d been there for two, maybe three hundred years.”
Huang’s eyes took on a distant look. “Ice and snow can age a man in ways you cannot understand.”
“And from Antarctica to China?” Daniel asked.
“At first, I was guided by a strange light. Golden-white.”
“Daniel, could that’ve been Skaara?”
“Possibly.” Though Skaara had never really explained how he’d managed to skip back and forth in time, it certainly sounded like him.
“Friend or foe, I cannot say.”
Sam slowed down to match Huang’s pace. “There wasn’t anyone else down in Antarctica fifty years ago. How did you survive?”
“Seal meat.”
“Okay, that’s just gross.” Jack shook his head. “Those creatures deserved better.”
“I am not proud of what I did, O’Neill. I did it to survive.”
“Still doesn’t explain how the hell you got out of there.”
“Sir Edmund Hilary found me.” Huang went on to detail how he’d met the explorer. He had just begun to share how he rose through the ranks during China’s Cultural Revolution when they arrived at the chamber. He froze. “I cannot. It is bù zhǔn xǔ.”
“You’re going in,” said Jack. “Whether you like it or not.” He pointed at the transporter rings. “Keep a good five feet away. Daniel, if you don’t mind?”
Approaching the wall, Daniel took in the intricately carved stone surface covered in Chinese pictograms and Ancient glyphs. A circle with a dash in the middle represented the sun. Beside it, a half circle with a vertical line meant the moon. Three apexes crowded together upside down — like a series of mountains.
“Kunlun,” whispered Huang. “Behind those walls lies death.”
“Not according to our mutual friend,” Jack said.
Daniel found the crack running down the wall’s midsection. He tried pushing on either side, but the doors wouldn’t give.
Sam took a turn with no luck. “Sir, I’m willing to bet the door is keyed to the ATA gene.”
Jack motioned for Huang to join him at the wall.
Wild-eyed, the old man backed away. “No, no!”
“You can,” Jack said, stomping toward him, “and you’re gonna. Think of it this way. Yu would want you to save Earth, wouldn’t he? That overdressed snake likes Earth.”
“I cannot.” Huang trembled so violently that Daniel became worried that he might have a heart attack.
Then he remembered the item in his pack. “Wait a minute.” Opening it, he pulled out the three-pronged bronze wine vessel unearthed near the chamber just a year ago.
“I have something to show you. Something that I’m pretty sure comes from Earth, but… Well, take a look.”
Huang’s shaking subsided, but he still didn’t move.
Holding the cup by its fluted bowl, Daniel showed it to him. “We found it right over there,” he pointed toward the dig area. “There’s writing inside. Xian. That’s one of China’s dynasties, from before — ”
“It is the language we are first taught as children.” Huang choked back a half-sob and took the cup. “You found this here?”
“Daniel…”
“Jack, give him a moment. It’s a lot to take in.”
Huang traced the long thin lines with his forefinger.
“Do you know what it says?”
“It is a hero’s cup. It says…” Huang’s lip quivered. “It is a quote of Sun Tzu. From before The Art of War.” He dropped the cup to his side, his shoulders shaking. “It says, ‘Great is the hero who would die for their country, but would much rather live.’”
Huang dropped to his knees and held out the cup.
“You keep it.” Daniel waved him off. He re-zipped his pack and joined Jack by the wall. “He’ll cooperate. Just go easy.”
Jack tilted his head back, looking up toward the Ancient writing at the top of the wall. “Nice quote, by the way.”
“Sun Tzu at his finest.”
“If you say so.” Jack slapped the wall. “How about we get this thing open? Then maybe everyone can get back to living.” He turned toward Huang. “What the hell?”
The old man, still kneeling on the ground, lowered a dirt-covered finger. Smeared on his forehead was a roughly drawn replica of Lord Yu’s sigil.
“I am ready.” Huang stood up.
“I don’t think so,” Jack replied.
“You do not approve of my wénshēn?”
“Not really.”
“Then I pity you.” Huang strode to the wall, his step lighter, a faint smile on his lips.
In a sense, Daniel mused, the old man had re-found his purpose.
Sam checked her watch. “Oh-five-hundred outpost time, sir.”
Jack stared at Huang. “How much time does that leave us?”
“Three hours to get to the gate and make our window.”
“Jack, just…” Daniel stepped up to his other side and whispered, “Whatever it takes, right? We need to get this chamber open, get the crystal, and — ”
“I know what we need to do, Daniel. Thank you.” He rubbed his palms together and then raised them in front of the wall. “You ready, Huang?”
The old man bowed. “I have always been, O’Neill. Are you?”
“On the count of three then.” Jack gave the countdown.
The two men pressed their palms against the wall.
A low rumble. Dirt showered down.
And then, the wall opened.
Paul Davis found General Hammond by the archway, staring at the stasis unit. “Sir, there’s no reason you need to stay. When Gerling gets back from McMurdo, she could take — ”
“Major, as much as I appreciate your concern, I’m staying.” Hammond raised a hand over the stasis controls. “I think you’ll find Dr. Lee determined to see this out as well.”
“Yes, sir.” He wasn’t surprised.
“These Ancients,” the general dropped his hand to his side, “the technologies they built. Takes a pretty wild imagination to come up with ways to reform a planet, keep a man frozen in time.”
“Don’t forget the Stargate, sir.”
Hammond chuckled. “How could I?”
They walked back into the weapons chair room. Dr. Lee was tinkering with one of the Mark IIs. Low murmurs came from the hole — Teal’c and Ambassador Zhu. Paul followed Hammond over to the ladder. Down below, Teal’c cradled Weiyan’s head in his lap. The ambassador sat beside him, stroking her daughter’s hair. An IV bag ran to the young woman’s pale arm, hopefully providing her some small measure of pain relief.
All because of the Ancients and their wild imaginations.
For a moment, Paul wondered if it had all been worth it.
“How’s she doing, Teal’c?” Hammond whispered.
He looked up. “She is sleeping, General Hammond. The fight to live remains strong. Any word from O’Neill and the others?”
“They’ve gated to P3Y-702,” Hammond replied. “No other word yet, but we’re hopeful they’ll meet with success.”
Teal’c laid his hand back down on the blanket. “Skaara assured us they will succeed. Have faith, General Hammond.”
“Ambassador Zhu, is there anything we can do?”
“Nothing.” The ambassador managed a brief smile. The effort lasted less than a second.
Hammond headed for the rear of the platform. Paul followed him and they sank down on the one edge still connected to the main section of floor.
“Paul, I meant what I said earlier.” Hammond turned toward him. “We get through this and it’s time for a promotion. More than time. Put in the paperwork, son. You’ve earned it.”
Another rumble ran through the room. Paul glanced over at Lee. The scientist squinted at his monitor, ignoring the sound. The tremors died off.
“If we get through this,” Paul said.
“Sure,” the general said. “Think of it as a reprieve. No more trips to the frozen south. No more last minute dashes to Colorado Springs. Just a warm desk in D.C. at Homeworld Security.” He shrugged. “Of course, it snows in Washington, too, but not always.”
“Sir,” Paul swept a stray chunk of ice off the weapons platform. “What if I didn’t take a promotion? I know the Air Force requires promotion or retirement by a certain point.”
“Homeworld Security’s a special situation.” General Hammond shrugged. “Don’t you want the promotion?”
“What about the SGC, sir?”
“We can find another liaison, Lt. Colonel Paul Davis.”
Another liaison. “Has a nice ring, sir.”
“General Hammond!” Gerling ran in, her parka dusted with snow. “I’ve brought provisions from McMurdo, sir. Not much, but some coffee, water, some Power Bars to eat.”
“Let’s get some coffee for the ambassador and some water for Teal’c. They must be hungry, too.”
“Yes, sir.” She unzipped her parka and pulled out a folded-up piece of paper. “McMurdo’s latest casualty reports. I thought you might want to see them.”
Hammond unfolded the report. As he scanned it, his face stilled. He handed the paper to Paul and closed his eyes.
Paul held off reading it. “Bad, sir?”
The general stood up. “Bad enough. Dr. Lee? Care to join me for some well-earned, though probably terrible, coffee?”
Lee raised his head from the monitor. “Did I hear something about food?”
“Power Bars, if you’ll have them.” Hammond strode out, tailed closely by Dr. Lee and Lt. Gerling.
Paul read the report. Ten more deaths. All civilians. Building 155 had collapsed, but not before a few people had managed to chase everyone out of the facility. He scanned the list of names, not recognizing any until the last one.
He rose to his feet, not looking forward to sharing the name with Teal’c. Crossing over the plank, he looked down into the hole. Eyes rolled back, sweat dripping from her forehead, Weiyan turned her head back and forth.
“Ni shi shui?” she mumbled. “Wo meng?”
“What is she saying?” Paul asked.
Weiyan’s mother wiped her eyes with her parka sleeve. “She says, ‘Who are you? Am I dreaming?’”
“Wo jiang xie zia wo bao fu.”
“I will release my burdens,” Zhu translated. Her hand grabbed Teal’c’s arm. “What does that mean? She is an innocent. What burdens could she possibly need to release?”
“You must ask her.” Teal’c gently raised Weiyan’s head and shifted over, allowing Zhu to take his position. “You are her mother. Tell her she is free to move on.” He stood up. “Then, allow her to do so.”
Zhu’s eyes widened. “You are leaving?”
“Do not regret these moments, Ambassador Zhu.” He began climbing the ladder. “I will not be far.”
“Wo jiang xie zia wo bao fu,” Weiyan whispered. “Wo jiang bu hai pa.”
Zhu bent over her daughter and broke into sobs. Paul’s throat constricted at the sight of a mother saying goodbye to her child. He backed off the plank, giving them more privacy.
Teal’c joined him by the back wall, purple bruises under his eyes told Paul all he needed to know. He hesitated, unsure if he should share the report from McMurdo. Weiyan had spoken about releasing her burdens. Telling Teal’c would just add to his, no doubt.
“You have something to tell me, Major Davis.” Not a question, just a fact. Teal’c was like that. He could see the truth in anything.
Paul held up the report. “Another building collapsed at McMurdo. The personnel director, Hannah Presley… She died, Teal’c. Trying to save everyone else. I’m sorry. I know you two got along well.”
“I see.” He crossed the back of the weapons chair and climbed onto its platform, his back to Paul. “Her red-leaf tea…” He gripped the chair’s headrest. “Major Davis, I believe I have a confession to make.”
“A confession? What could you possibly need to confess?”
“I believe my actions many years ago have brought this disaster to pass.”
Taken aback, Paul stepped around the chair to face Teal’c. “How could you have anything to do with — ”
“Many years ago, while a lieutenant in Apophis’s ranks, I, along with many others, escorted three Serpent Guards who had been tasked with a secret gate address. An address I was not permitted to know.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
The ground rumbled. Not as bad as before, but it served as a reminder that time was running out. Paul glanced at his watch. “Six more hours until sunrise.”
“Major Davis, I believe that I witnessed Huang escape through the Stargate to Earth.” Teal’c went on to describe how two men, disguised as Serpent Guards, attacked the Jaffa. One made it through. The other died.
Paul was stunned. It was a lot to take in. The idea that Teal’c might have known about the Antarctic Stargate from the start being just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
Listening to the murmured sounds of a mother soothing her dying daughter, Paul surveyed the damage done to the outpost. It would take weeks for the Army Engineers to shore everything back up.
But it wouldn’t bring back the dead. Or make it easier on the dying.
“Did you get a look at the body?” he asked Teal’c. “Or the Jaffa who got through?”
Teal’c frowned. “I did not.”
“Was that the only time Apophis sent troops through to try and reach Earth?”
“No. Apophis made many attempts over the years. He did so for several planets, Earth was only one.”
Paul scratched his chin. “And that was the only time enemy Jaffa infiltrated the Serpent Guard?”
“Bie li wo. Bie li.”
Whispered shushes emanated from the hole, followed soon after by humming. Paul listened for a moment, unable to make out the song. It was soothing. Quiet. A simple melody. He supposed it must be some sort of Chinese lullaby.
“Infiltrations were frequent.” Teal’c let go of the chair. “Ra, Heru’er, Cronus. They all sent spies. Try to — ”
“So you don’t know,” Paul said. “Look, Teal’c, you can’t blame yourself for everything. That’s not how it works.”
“O’Neill would say as much.” Teal’c bent his head. “Master Bra’tac would also agree.”
“I’m with Master Bra’tac,” Paul said, “and General O’Neill, of course.”
Ambassador Zhu continued humming. The tune changed, a speedier tempo with almost a playful quality.
The corner of Teal’c’s mouth tugged up in a faint smile. “When I was very young, my father told me the burden of wrongful blame was a falsehood to oneself. One that places distance between what we believe to be true and who we really are, setting our soul adrift from its true purpose.”
“True purpose.” Paul reflected on General Hammond’s offer. It meant safety. Security. A pay raise.
If they survived the next few hours, he would be a fool to turn it down.
Sam flicked on her P90’s tactical flashlight, raking the light across the dark chamber. Silver curlicues were etched into the marble floor. A row of columns lined the far wall. “This looks familiar.”
She stepped inside, aiming her light toward the center of the room. There it was, an exact duplicate of the Antarctica terra-forming platform.
And the one in their shared vision.
Using her free hand, Sam pulled out her scanner.
Daniel joined her. “Anything?”
She thumbed on the display. The meter barely budged. “Less than 0.3 micro-Sieverts. Most likely, from background radiation.” She turned toward the general and held up her scanner. “No considerable photonic radiation, sir.”
“Good thing, too. I forgot my sunscreen,” the general said from the doorway. “Come on, Huang. Get ahead of me.”
Huang clasped Daniel’s cup to his chest. “You do not trust me at your back, O’Neill?”
“Not really.” The general waved his P90 toward the chamber’s interior. “Step in, nice and easy.”
As the two men entered the chamber a blue light flashed brightly and then settled down into a soft glow. A low pulse thrummed through the chamber, amplified by the marble floor and stone walls.
“Shouldn’t that be glowing red?” Daniel pointed toward the control crystal.
“It’s dormant.” Sam approached, her scanner still unable to pick up any unusual radiation. Intact, the crystal was a darker red because it wasn’t active, but it was right where it should be. Smack in the middle, with an empty bracket on either side.
“Dormant’s a good thing, right?” General O’Neill came up on her left with Huang beside him. “We just need to grab the crystal, get back to the gate, and take this puppy to the outpost.”
The general secured his P90 under his right arm and reached out a hand toward the crystal. He motioned for Huang to do the same. “On my count.”
She glanced down at the meter. “Sir, wait!” The needle was off the scale.
General O’Neill pulled his hand away. “What?”
The needle dropped to normal levels. “That doesn’t make sense, unless… General, Mr. Huang, I need the two of you to touch the crystal, but don’t grab hold of it.”
With a nod from General O’Neill, the two men touched the crystal with their fingertips. The needle pinged again.
“Don’t make any moves.” Adjusting the amplitude, she ran another scan. The needle stayed off the chart.
“How much longer, Colonel? Not that I’m complaining, but we’re under a bit of a time crunch — ”
The ground shook, a low rumble reverberating through the chamber.
“Sam,” Daniel warned.
Suddenly, an ear-splitting crack resounded from somewhere outside.
“Hands off, hands off!” She pulled both men back from the platform. The tremor immediately stopped.
“Carter?” Dust trickled down on the general’s head. He yanked off his ball cap. “Skaara didn’t say anything about there being a problem.”
“No, sir. He didn’t.” She held out the scanner. “I’m getting inconsistent readings. It’s almost as if — ”
“Forget that meter thing.” The general checked his watch.
“I need to run more tests.”
“We’ve got two-and-a-half hours left before we’re outta time. Use your head and if that fails, use your gut.”
“What’s wrong?” Daniel peered down at the scanner and its near-zero reading.
She aimed the scanner at the crystal. Nothing. The needle didn’t move. “Daniel, touch the crystal.”
He did. Again, nothing happened.
Of course not. Neither she nor Daniel had the necessary gene.
The general had said use her head. Fine, but not without double-checking the theory forming in it. A theory no one was going to like.
“General, just one more time.” She gestured for him to touch the control crystal. “Mr. Huang, you too.”
As soon as they touched the crystal, the needle slammed to the meter’s far right. The ground shook. More dust fell.
“Satisfied, Carter?” shouted General O’Neill over the noise.
She shoved the scanner in her vest pocket. What was the point? It was useless. “Sir, I’m pretty sure that the moment you pull the crystal, the device will initiate a sizeable eruption similar to what happened in Antarctica.”
“How sizeable?”
She pointed toward the opened doorway. “Sizeable enough that, if the gate sits on a fault line, it’ll get buried.”
“Just like it did in our vision,” Daniel said.
“We’ve come this far.” General O’Neill shooed Huang from the platform. “There’s gotta be something we can do.”
“It doesn’t matter to the device if the crystal is damaged — like on Earth — or pulled.” She pointed at the silver lines on the floor. “In fact, here it could be worse because the sun’s already up.”
“I could dial the gate in advance,” Daniel offered.
Sam shook her head. “That won’t work. The gate’s almost a mile off. The quake could be instantaneous. We need some sort of buffer. Something to at least temporarily block any stored up energy from reaching the platform.”
“Like a dam,” Huang said.
Sam raised an eyebrow at Huang’s sudden contribution. He’d kept so silent since they’d entered the chamber. Still, he had a point. “A dam is exactly what we need. Something to hold back any energy from reaching the planet’s tectonic plates long enough to gate out of here.”
“With the crystal,” Daniel added.
“Kinda like sticking a finger in a dike,” the general said.
“You may be on to something, sir.” She leaned over the platform and examined the two empty brackets. Each one was about five inches long, maybe an inch wide. She eyeballed the bracket beneath the control crystal. It was both longer and wider. “Not a finger, a hand.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“The general figured it out, really.” She backed away from the platform. “We need a finger in the dike, or in this case, a hand. Something to trick the bracket into thinking there’s still a crystal attached.”
“Would a jacket work?” Daniel started to unbuckle his vest, but Sam stopped him.
“It needs to be carbon-based,” she said. “Like the crystal.”
“Or a diamond,” Daniel said. “That’s carbon-based, right?”
General O’Neill snorted. “Oh, sure. Let’s just run back to the SGC and see if Siler’s got one lying around.”
“Actually, sir, there’s one other option for a carbon-based form.” She retrieved her scanner and ran it over her hand. “Us.”
The needle wobbled, then settled back to normal. “On the quantum level,” she explained, “we’re made up of tiny particles of light, and these particles of light have an energy frequency. One that could block the emissions long enough for everyone else to gate out with the crystal.”
“And then what?” asked Daniel.
She didn’t know. “We don’t have time for me to run simulations. I couldn’t even guess — ”
“Forget it, Carter. What fun would it be without a surprise or two tucked inside the cereal box?” The general dumped his pack on the ground. “Daniel, head to the gate. Start dialing.”
“Wait,” Daniel said. “What?”
“But, sir!” She tried to catch his gaze, but he turned away, his focus on the dormant crystal.
“Not another word, Colonel. I’m going to do this.”
No one moved. How could they? Leaving General O’Neill behind just wasn’t an option.
“Do I need to remind you both of why we’re here?”
“There has to be another option.”
“We don’t have time for options, Carter.”
In her eight years serving with SG-1, there’d always been time for options. “What if we — ?”
“Forget it, Carter.” The general kept his back turned. “Daniel, get your ass in gear.”
“Jack…”
“Just follow my orders, Daniel.”
“I could do it, you know. I could stay behind. Even without the ATA gene, I should be able to… I mean, if the gate collapses, you could send word to the Tok’ra. Maybe the Asgard could pick me — ”
“Get it through your skull, Daniel. I don’t want your help.”
Daniel jerked his head back, obviously stung by the general’s words. “Fine.” Swooping up his pack, he stormed toward the doorway.
“Dr. Jackson!” cried Huang.
Daniel stopped.
Huang held out the cup. “You will want this back.”
“Keep it.” He looked over at the general who still refused to turn around.
“See you on the other side,” Sam said.
“Right.” With a final nod, Daniel ran from the chamber.
Sam refused to give up as easily. “General, what if I — ?”
“Negative, Colonel.” He shoved up his jacket sleeves and motioned for Huang to step up to the platform. At first, the old man didn’t move, glancing back and forth between her and the general. She understood his confusion. She was pretty much feeling that way herself.
Huang looked down at the cup. “I am ready.” He stepped up beside the general.
“This will be a snap.” General O’Neill turned back toward the platform. “We’re gonna pull this sucker out, Carter. Then the two of you will run like mad.”