Sunlight peeked out from behind a patch of clouds as Jack hiked past the waiting chopper. Though he’d donned a wool cap along with the rest of his cold-weather gear, his parka hood was down. The cold air felt good nicking at his skin, keeping him from feeling completely numb and worn out.
He reached the rocky promontory beyond the chopper pad and looked out over the valley below. The crunch of footsteps behind him was no surprise. No doubt his former teammates had decided to come along for the show, short as it might be.
Looking out over the Ferrar Glacier, he took in the rugged white valley, surrounding cliffs, the deep crevasses that looked like someone had squeezed blue gel toothpaste onto the snow. Somehow, Huang had survived all this. Maybe Skaara had helped, but Jack suspected the clone’s basic cussedness had more to do with it than anything else. Cussedness and maybe something else. Something everyone needed.
Faith.
In Huang’s case, that faith had been sorely misplaced.
In Jack’s case, it was about finding that faith in himself.
He grinned. He could do that.
“O’Neill.” Teal’c’s parka hood was zipped up tight enough that Jack couldn’t see half his face.
“I thought you hated cold weather.”
Teal’c turned toward the sun, its zenith past and gone. “Upon our return to the SGC, I would like to visit my son. He is with Ishta and the Hak’tyl.”
“Warmer climate on that planet, I suppose?”
“Indeed.”
“Wow.” Daniel stopped beside him with Carter.
“Bring back memories, Carter?” He knew this had been her first view of Antarctica years ago when they’d been flung from the previously unknown gate into what they thought was an ice planet.
“Lots of memories, sir. Not all of them bad.” Her eyes crinkled. Underneath all that fleece and polyester, Jack was sure she was grinning. That was Carter. Always up for a challenge.
“…Zhu’s agreed to revisit the treaty,” Davis said, matching strides with Hammond as they headed over.
“Considering all she’s been through,” Hammond said, “I’d take that as a win, Major.”
“I think so, too, sir.”
The two came up on Jack’s other side. He gave them each a nod and turned his attention back to watching the sun peek in and out of the clouds.
“First day of sun for the year,” Carter said. “It’s supposed to last an hour and thirty-nine minutes. Should set in another eight — ”
“Ack!” Jack said, waving a glove-covered hand. “Don’t ruin it. Just watch. Enjoy.”
“Sir?”
“When’s the last time we just watched the sun set, Carter?”
The group settled down and Jack let the peace and quiet wash over him. That was the best part about so much snow. It made everything quieter. Newer.
Simpler.
“General Hammond?” Davis asked.
Jack stopped himself from groaning out loud. If he wanted peace and quiet, there was always the cabin.
“Sir,” Davis said, “About that promotion — ”
“Promotion?” Jack congratulated the major. “About time, Davis. We were starting to — ”
“Actually, General — Generals, I mean — ” Davis shoved his gloved hands in his pockets. “I think I can do more good at my present rank. I know I’m not critical to the SGC, but I’d like to think I’ve done my part. Both with the treaty, and, well…” He shrugged.
Jack had heard about Davis’ little brainstorm getting the F-302s out of the ice. “If I may, General, I’m with Davis. If he’s happy, how about letting those forced promotion regulations slide for once?”
Hammond nodded. “Happy and helpful. Can’t ask for more than that, I suppose. I’ll notify the Secretary of the Air Force. I’m sure special dispensation can be granted. For now.”
The world back on its keel, Jack turned toward the glacier. “Out of curiosity, General, how’d you get China to release Huang into our custody?”
A muffled sigh escaped Hammond’s extra-extra large parka. “The president promised to consider giving them the plans to the F-302.”
“Great.” Jack remembered Ambassador Chen’s admiring the bird during his brief visit. There’d definitely been something downright paternalistic about the way the guy had stroked its underbelly. “Good luck with that.”
Carter frowned. “What about the 303, sir?”
“They want the plans to that as well.”
“They’re gonna build their own 303?” Jack watched the sun dip lower in the sky. “With what resources?”
Hammond grunted. “Remember, the president hasn’t agreed yet. He’s just said he’ll consider their request. As far as resources are concerned, I’ll leave that problem up to my successor.”
Successor? Jack felt his eyebrows shoot up into his scalp. “General, is there something you’ve neglected to tell us?”
“I hear tell that there’s a great fishing spot in Maryland, just some forty minutes from the Pentagon.” Hammond slapped him on the back. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head over to McMurdo and help coordinate the relief effort. Davis?”
Jack did a double take as Hammond trudged off toward the chopper with Davis in tow.
Fishing. In Maryland.
He turned back toward the valley, the darkening sky turning the white snow to a soft gray. A sparse slice of the sun hung just above a mountain off in the distance. A moment later, a bit of smoke wafted upwards. Jack realized it wasn’t just any mountain he was looking at, it was Mt. Erebus.
“If the Chinese do build a 303,” Carter said, “I wonder what they’ll call it.”
“The Sun Tzu’s a good name.”
As the sun dropped behind the volcano, a breeze picked up. Cold. Bracing.
Jack pulled up his hood.
Yep. It was good to be alive.