by Stargate
"General Hammond," Woodburn said, rocking back in his chair. "I have a problem."
Hammond folded his arms across his chest. "I can't say I'm sorry to hear that."
"No," the man agreed, "I'm sure you're not." Standing, he stepped out from behind Colonel O'Neill's desk, shaggy eyebrows contracting into a frown. "At 0400 hours this morning, Dr. Daniel Jackson and the alien, Teal'c, fought their way into the gate-room, disabled a number of my men, activated the Stargate, and left Earth."
"Did they?" Hammond said it without a flicker.
"We presume they have gone in search of Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter."
"I would say that's a good bet, General." Hammond paused. "But, as you say, you have a problem. How does this concern me?"
Without a word, Woodburn picked up a paper from the desk. "This is the report from the man on guard outside Dr. Jackson's apartment last night." He produced a pair of narrow reading glasses from a pocket and, perching them on his nose, began to read. "At 0115 hours, I was approached by a short, stout man wearing a baseball cap. I couldn't see his face and assumed he was one of the elderly residents returning home late. But then I realized he had a zat, and before I could raise the alarm he shot me.
Short and stout were a fair description, Hammond supposed, reigning in another smile. But elderly? He offered Woodburn an innocent look. "What's your point, General?"
"My point," Woodburn said, allowing the paper to flutter onto the desk, "is that Jackson and Teal'c couldn't have pulled this off without help. And you're the prime suspect."
"If I were involved," Hammond observed, "you could hardly expect me to admit it."
Woodburn stared at him, his sharp eyes drawing tight. "I guess Kinsey's right," he said at last. "You really have lost all respect for the principles of-"
"Senator Kinsey," Hammond snapped, his control starting to slip, "doesn't give a damn about principles, let me tell you that. What he's doing here with this alien technology is-" Woodburn's start of surprise derailed Hammond's thoughts. He nodded slowly. "So, he hasn't told you about that then?"
Recovering, Woodburn retreated behind the desk. "My brief is to clean out this base," he said gruffly, "and to return it to a proper level of discipline and accountability."
"Ask Kinsey what's happening on Level 17," Hammond urged. "Ask him about the sheh fet, about the prisoners being transferred onto the base. Better still," he added after a moment's thought, "don't ask. Find out for yourself."
Woodburn frowned, conflict knitting his brow. "My brief is to-"
"To hell with your brief!" Hammond growled, leaning across the desk. "Remember your oath, General - to protect the Constitution from enemies, both foreign and domestic. Kinsey's playing with fire, and the only thing standing between it and the rest of this planet is the SGC." Lowering his voice, he added, "Why do you think he wanted me out of here?"
Silence.
Stepping back, Hammond took a deep breath. "Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter are good people. Kinsey has sent them to their deaths on Kinahhi. Does that sound like the principles of the United States Air Force?"
Woodburn frowned, his craggy features shadowed in the ill-lit room. He was uncertain, that was for sure. Confused. Hell, who wouldn't be, walking into this mess?
"Start digging," Hammond pressed. "Find out the truth yourself, if you don't believe me. But whatever you do, don't just sit there. We're the last line of defense, General. And as a good man once said, the barbarians really are at the gate."
From orbit, Kinahhi was a rainbow world. The bright blue of wide oceans collided with rich greens on one continent, and dark, dusky reds and ochre on the another. A few clouds scurried beneath them, but it was a world bathed in the light of its massive, cool sun.
"It's funny," Daniel said, studying the planet below. "I guess when we arrive someplace through the Stargate, I always imagine the whole planet being just like that one little corner." He sat back, watching as Teal'c brought the ship into a declining orbit. "I mean, anyone who'd arrived through the Antarctic gate would think Earth was an ice planet!"
Teal'c raised an eyebrow, apparently less than impressed by Daniel's observation. "The Goa'uld ensure that populations do not grow to threatening levels on the worlds they control."
"That makes sense, I guess."
"Which means," Teal'c continued, "such civilizations as exist on these worlds are indeed clustered around the Stargate."
"But on the worlds where the Goa'uld have lost their power..." Daniel peered out the window as their ship skimmed low over parched land, ragged mountains eroding into dusty plains. "I guess no one lives in this- Wait!" Stretching out for miles were the bones of a city. An ancient city, crumbling away into the sand. But from this height he could see causeways, roads, the foundations of massive structures. "Wow," he breathed. "Would you look at that..."
Teal'c spared a momentary glance from the ship's controls. "It appears to be an abandoned city, Daniel Jackson."
"Oh yeah," he nodded, feeling the familiar itch to get down there and touch it all. "But look at the scale of it. It's huge. I mean, we're talking about something the size of...I don't know, a big city. A big city." Nose pressed against the window, he tried to drink in the details. The roads were wide and paved. Some of the buildings still stood tall and elegant, their rounded outlines almost organic in design. The itch turned into a tingle of familiarity, as if he were poised on the cusp of making a hugely important connection. Damn, what he wouldn't give for five minutes in those ruins!
Teal'c cast him a sideways glance, as if reading his mind. "I believe it is unlikely that O'Neill or Major Carter are being held within the remains of this city."
"Yeah." Daniel sank back in his seat, repressing his compulsive desire to explore. "I know. I don't think the Kinahhi are even on this continent."
"No," Teal'c agreed. "There are no signs of technology. We must search the other continent."
Within a matter of moments they had crossed the ocean and were skimming across verdant green plains toward a distant white glitter. "Kinahhi," Daniel breathed, almost as astonished as he had been at the lost city. "Look at the size of it!" Small habitations - villages? Towns? - merged together until, as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but the square, white buildings Daniel remembered from their first visit to this world. "It takes up half the continent."
Lower now, Daniel caught sight of Kinahhi ships skimming over rooftops, like insects buzzing around a soda can. Too many to count. "You're sure our shields are working?"
"If they were not," Teal'c observed, "we would already have been detected."
Good point. "Let's hope they last all the way to Tsapan."
"I believe they will," Teal'c replied, gesturing through the window. "Look."
Following the direction, Daniel saw it, glittering like a pharaoh's jewels above the ocean. The sight tightened the knot in his gut, dread and anticipation mixing in a volatile brew. Somewhere, down there, Jack and Sam were hidden beneath the extravagant beauty of the city. He refused to think how they might be suffering. Now that the waiting was over he banished everything but the present from his mind. "I'll go get ready," he said, swinging out of the co-pilot's seat and darting into the cargo hold.
"Hang on guys," he muttered, as he pulled on his tac vest and double-checked his P90. "We're coming to get you."
The stench was the first thing that hit Jack as the doors opened. Rank and putrid, it reeked of unwashed bodies - and worse. For a moment his mind slipped, catapulted back to the four months he'd spent in that stinking, Iraqi jail before-
"Urgh!" Carter recoiled, nose wrinkling.
Jack shot Kenna a black look. "Civilized."
The Commander flinched at the rebuke, but didn't comment. "Follow," he said, leading the way.
With gritted teeth, Jack followed, Carter falling in at his side. If it had been gloomy outside, inside was worse. Makeshift lamps were strung across the ceiling like rancid Christmas lights, thick cables trailing toward a
noisy generator. "There's no power down here," Carter murmured. She sounded like she was breathing through her mouth.
Kenna led them along a narrow corridor, as damp and cold as the alley outside. At its end, the light was brighter. And the stench was worse.
"What the hell is this?" Jack growled.
"It is the price we pay for our security." Unsteady with doubt, the Commander's reply drifted back to him through the darkness.
"Is it worth it?"
There was no answer. But they were almost at the end of the corridor now, and it opened up into a wide, round room. Kenna's bulk blocked his view, and Jack found himself hanging back. Carter, too, slowed to a halt. Behind them, their escort bunched up and he could hear the rapid, nervous breathing of the soldiers. "You know," Jack muttered, "I really don't want to know what's in there."
Kenna turned, silhouetted by the dim light from the room beyond. "Colonel O'Neill, you must-"
"Nah," Jack shook his head. "You know, I don't think so. I appreciate the tour. Really. It's been great." He backed up a step. "But I think we'll just head to the gift shop now."
The Commander said nothing, his face lost in shadows, but he gave a slight nod. A hand seized Jack's arm, the contact triggering claustrophobia and panic like a touch paper. With a furious grunt he spun around and brought his cuffed fists up under the soldier's chin. The man dropped with a satisfying thud. Carter lashed out the moment he struck, but chained as they were it was a futile gesture of defiance. The butt of a weapon crunched against the back of his skull, and he fell to his knees through a cascade of stars. The cold water soaking his pants kept him focused, as rough hands dragged him back to his feet and held him there.
"So, you do know fear?" Kenna's face was close to his, voice quiet and intense.
Jack spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. It was the only answer he would give. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carter struggling uselessly against two men holding her arms. A dribble of blood leaked from a cracked lip, but otherwise she seemed okay. For now.
Without another word, Kenna turned away and walked into the room beyond. Jack was pushed into motion after him, heart racing as the stench of human misery washed over him with sickly warmth.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ith as much grace as their damaged ship could muster, Teal'c landed it in a vacant courtyard under the soaring spires of Tsapan. Its engines hummed, spiking from their usual frequency with alarming regularity, reminding him that their power was failing. If he left the stealth device armed, their chances of regaining enough velocity to escape the planet's gravity would be slim. If he did not, however...
"Did you hear that?" Daniel Jackson was craning his neck in an endeavor to see the sky. "I thought I heard something."
"A Kinahhi transport, perhaps?" If such a ship were to pass over the uncloaked tel'tak then they would lose any chance of escape. Teal'c's fingers hovered over the control, then withdrew. He would leave the ship hidden and hope they returned before the engines were entirely drained of power. Indeed, if they did not return by such time, it was likely that they would not return at all.
Standing up, he turned to face his friend. Daniel Jackson wore the expression of nervous anticipation Teal'c had seen on the faces of countless young warriors, yet in this man it was tempered by experience. There was no bravado to the eagerness, merely the unvoiced hope that they would see their teammates once more. "Are you ready, Daniel Jackson?"
"As I'll ever be."
"The tel'takwill not remain cloaked for more than a few hours," Teal'c told him as they walked together to the ship's hatch.
"Then I guess we'd better hurry." Determinedly, Daniel Jackson hit the controls and jumped from the ship.
Teal'c followed, breathing in the salty tang of sea air as the cold wind battered at his face. Behind him, the hatch disappeared into nothingness and they were alone in the center of a derelict courtyard. He glanced at his watch, setting the alarm for three hours. Much beyond that and the tel'tak would never leave orbit. Next to him, Daniel Jackson was scanning the dark edges of the courtyard, looking for an exit. "That way?" he said, pointing. "Looks like it goes down."
Teal'c had no reason to object and with a resolute stride headed out across the plaza. "Stay in the shadows," he advised as they reached the walls of a high tower, "so that we are not seen from above."
Daniel Jackson glanced up hurriedly. "Come on," he said. "And keep your eyes out for anything that looks like writing. Maybe Tourist Information put up a map, huh?"
Perhaps, if fortune were flowing in their favor. But of late, Teal'c thought bleakly, fortune had blessed the enemy.
At first, Sam couldn't understand what he saw in that large round room. She blinked, trying to make sense of the tangle of bleached limbs and flickering technology. Then she made out the faces - mouths stretched into silent screams, eyes wide and sightless, sunken into the leathery features of the almost-dead.
Bile rose in her throat. "Oh God..."A hand clamped around each arm, fingers like a vise, pulling her forward. "No!"
She hated herself for hissing the denial, hated sounding so afraid as the soldiers dragged her toward that obscene heap of machine and perverted humanity. But the sight turned her stomach, leeching heat from her body until she was clammy with disgust and terror.
Like a monstrous spider's nest, the thing held its victims, drilling into their minds with silken threads that spread across each temple and wormed under pallid skin. Iron clamps trapped limbs, tearing through the tattered remains of clothing. There must have been fifty, sixty - a hundred - souls lost in that tangle of dying flesh and merciless technology. "No..."
"Kenna!" The Colonel barked the word, short and brittle with rage. "You sonofabitch. What the hell is this?"
The Commander stood with his back to the hellish scene, his nose flaring with revulsion. His eyes betrayed him, though. Sam saw self-loathing in their depths, and fear. Fear of what lay in this room. "The sheh fet," was all he said.
Her mind was sluggish with shock, but Sam forced it to work. The sheh fet? From a single point in the ceiling an elegant lattice fanned out, curving in an intricate design and glowing with a faint violet light. Each delicate curlicue ended in a vulgar, metal bolt. Two technologies rammed together. From those iron bolts cascaded the tangle of wires that entrapped the wretched victims - of which she would soon be one. Thrusting the thought aside, she said, "This is how it works, sir. The sheh jet. How it reads minds." She turned to Kenna for confirmation. "It harnesses the power of the human mind, uses it to interpret complex human emotions. To discern a threat."
A slight movement of the head was all the corroboration she got, but she hardly needed more. She was closer now. The stench was overwhelming, and she had to fight the urge to gag. Turning her head away, she breathed through her mouth.
The Colonel was doing the same at her side, his chest rising in short, shallow breaths. "When I get my hands on Crawford..."
"I'll be right behind you, sir."
A sudden, crushing pain in her right arm made her gasp; one of the metal clamps had tightened around it. Shit! Another bit into her right leg, and she tried to yank herself free in a burst of involuntary panic. The vise only tightened further.
"Carter." The Colonel was watching her. His own limbs were also trapped, sinewy metallic cables trailing from the vises back into the spider's nest. "Fight it," he ordered her. "Don't give a goddamn inch."
"No, sir." Following orders - she could do that.
One of the Kinahhi men released the shackles that had bound her arms and legs as a soft metallic hiss filled the air. Stepping hurriedly back, he cast Sam a swift look. She saw pity in his pale eyes, and it made her shiver. For a moment, she and the Colonel were alone, both held tight by the sheh jet. He looked at her steadily. Fight it, Carter. She heard the words as clearly as if he'd said them. Fight it!
And then suddenly she was moving, yanked backward and up by the brutal machine that had seized her arms and legs. She was being
sucked into the heart of the sheh jet. She screwed her eyes shut, recoiling as soft leathery skin brushed against her hands and face. Foul breath, and worse, washed over her, and somewhere above she could hear the vociferous cursing of the Colonel. She barely dared open her eyes when the movement stopped, but fifteen years in the field had taught her the value of tactical information. However bad the situation, it was always better to know exactly how bad.
Cautiously, she peeled open an eyelid. A face, stretched into a voiceless scream, stared at her sightlessly from no more than four inches away. Its faint breath was putrid, lips peeled back from decaying teeth. With a shudder Sam turned her head, looking past emaciated limbs and out into the room beyond. She was about ten feet from the floor, her arms and legs both pulled viciously behind her and something hard - she dared not imagine what or who - dug into her back. The Kinahhi Commander stood watching, his gaze darting to a place a couple of feet above her. Colonel O'Neill, she guessed. Kenna seemed tense, arms folded across his chest. Waiting. Waiting for the worst. What that might be, she could only-
Something crawled across her face. Spidery trails of fire, tracing along her cheek and up toward her temple. She flinched away, closer to the cadaverous face next to her, and squeezed her eyes shut. The sensation was all over her face now, burning like acid. Burning deeper, into her skin. Through her skin. Into her mind. Burning... But not acid now, something else. A knife, digging deep, scraping around in her mind, tearing it out. The pain seethed, burning and scraping and digging. Every moment growing more intense, more powerful. Filling her mind until the pressure fractured her skull and the molten pain exploded through the cracks.
Sam felt her mouth contort into a scream of despair. But she heard no sound. Heard nothing, felt nothing but a blaze of agony blasting through her mind, liquefying memory and pumping it out into a fathomless river of savaged consciousness. Her memories joined those of a hundred minds ripped bit by bit from their human husks.