by Karen Miller
Thank God. Thank God. This could actually be worse.
“Okay,” she said. “Help me get ready first, then you can prep.”
Grim and silent he assisted her into a scrub top, swabbed her good hand with iodine wipes and eased it into a new latex glove, then helped her put on a mask. She was as ready as she’d ever be.
“I’ll never fit into your scrubs,” he said. “What do we do?”
Was there time to dial the SGC, get them to shoot a large enough pair through? Maybe. But that’d leave her alone with Daniel and Teal’c. If something went wrong…
“Forget them,” she decided. “It’s not like this is a sterile environment. And I’ll be putting him on i/v antiobiotics once we’re done.”
“Okay, Doc. You’re the doc.” He grinned, nervously. “I’m just playing one on Adjo.”
“Right,” she said, once he was as prepped as he could get, and stared at her with wide, white-rimmed eyes. “You can do this, David. I have absolute faith in you. It’s not a difficult procedure, thousands are done every year. And I’ll be right with you, talking you through it every step of the way.”
He swallowed. “Yeah. Till you pass out. You look like hell, Janet.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll manage. So let’s do this, all right? Daniel needs us.”
Dixon nodded. Took a rib-cracking deep breath and blew it out. “Yeah. Good. Okay, Doc. Let’s rock and roll.”
Hammond greeted Jacob as he came down the gate ramp, two hours after his call went through to the Tok’ra. “That was fast.”
Jacob gave him one of his dry half-smiles. “Well, George, you used one of the old Alpha emergency codes. Did you think I’d stop on the way for a burger and some fries?”
“The last time we spoke you were deep undercover.”
“Luckily for you I came up for air three days ago. But I’m due to go back under tonight. So, what’s wrong, George? What’s the emergency?” Jacob’s expression shifted from sarcastic humor to alarm. “Is it Sam? Is she okay?”
The gate room was far too public for this conversation. “Come on up to my office, Jacob,” he said carefully, “and I’ll explain everything.”
The look Jacob gave him wasn’t reassuring.
The explanation took some time. When he was finished, Jacob just stared. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Hammond ran a hand over his face. “If only, Jacob. If only. I’m not saying you aren’t within your rights to scold, even though you didn’t know anything about Adjo, but I’d appreciate it if you could put that on hold until we’ve salvaged the situation. That is… if you can help us.”
“Meaning if the Tok’ra can help you?”
“That’s right.”
Jacob shifted on his chair, his face tight with pain. “You should’ve told me about Sam before this, George.”
It was hard, but he forced himself to meet his old friend’s hard gaze. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t.”
“She’s really that sick?”
“Yes. O’Neill as well. Right now they’re hanging on by their fingernails.”
Jacob’s head dipped, and when he looked up again his expression was subtly different. Selmak. “If the information you’ve provided is correct, General Hammond, then our help is possible. The Tok’ra did not split from the Goa’uld until after the original incident on Adjo. That means our symbiotes’ blood contains the same essential properties as that of the Goa’uld.”
Hammond felt a crushing wave of relief… which was quickly swamped by trepidation. “And do you have enough symbiotes who’d be willing to donate some of their blood to help us create the amount of vaccine we require?
Jacob’s head dipped again as Selmak retreated. “I’m not going to lie to you, George,” Jacob said, looking up. “What you’re asking for is — is enormous.”
“I know that,” he said soberly. “But there are hundreds of lives at stake.”
Jacob snorted. “Yeah. Not to mention a planet-load of naquadah.”
He wanted to snarl at that, but kept his temper in check. Not a good idea to kick the golden-egg laying goose. “Jacob. Can you help?”
“I can’t answer that, George,” said Jacob, standing. “It’s too big a decision for me and Selmak to make without consultation. I need to take this to the Tok’ra High Council.”
“Of course.”
“I do understand the urgency, George.” Jacob’s eyes were bleak. He was thinking of Sam. “You’ll have your answer within the hour.”
“Thank you, Jacob.”
As they walked back to the gate room, Jacob glanced at him sidelong. “Does Washington know you’ve contacted me?”
“Not yet,” he said heavily.
“They’re going to spank you for this, George. You have to know it.”
He felt his jaw clench. “Jacob, they are welcome to try.”
The wormhole bloomed, and Jacob stepped into it. When the Stargate was empty again, Hammond returned to his office to distract himself with paperwork for the next sixty minutes.
Halfway through the appendectomy, Dixon was breathing like he’d just run a marathon. His eyes above his mask were still white-rimmed and disbelieving. “Jesus wept. Are you sure he can’t feel this?”
Janet glanced at Daniel’s paper-white, flaccid face. “No. He’s in dreamland. David? David, pay attention. We need to get through the peritonium. Once we’re into the abdominal cavity I’ll check the appendix, okay?”
He nodded. “Okay.”
Ignoring the way the pain from her broken wrist blew up and down her arm like a tornado, she used her left hand’s fingers to ease into the warmth of Daniel’s belly and coax his appendix into the light.
“Oh crap,” she said inelegantly. “When he wakes up I’m going to kill him.”
The appendix was enormously swollen, and yellow with pus. Daniel must’ve been feeling sick for days. Most likely thanks to the wild blow from Teal’c’s fist, infected matter was leaking from its tip. How much pus was sloshing around his abdominal cavity was impossible to say.
“Right, David,” she said, pushing that appalling thought aside. “We’re on the home stretch. You’re doing great.”
She talked him through the excision of the appendix, the stitching of the colon and then everything else. Removing the clamps and blood-soaked swabs. Working his way backwards out of Daniel’s belly, one suture at a time. Dixon’s technique was… interesting. Daniel would end up with one butt-ugly scar.
But that’s a hell of a lot better than being dead.
Eventually it was over. Dixon fixed a wound pad over the incision site, then she supervised him putting Daniel on fluids and i/v antibiotics.
“Sit with him,” she said, dizzy with pain and relief, and stripped off her mask. “I need to check Teal’c.”
He was regaining consciousness. Blinking, uncertain, he let her help him sit up. Stared at the air-splint on her arm.
“Doctor Fraiser… your wrist…”
“It’s nothing,” she said. “A simple fracture.”
His eyes widened with distress. “I did this? I remember losing control…”
“It’s okay,” she said softly, and put her left hand on his shoulder. “You weren’t responsible.”
“The symbiote lost its reason,” he said. “It feared it was dying.”
“I thought there wasn’t a conscious connection between a larval Goa’uld and its Jaffa.”
“There is not, as a rule. Only rarely, in dreams, and under duress.” Teal’c sighed. “It is calm now. It is recovering, as am I.” He looked around, and saw Daniel on the makeshift operating table, Dixon hovering over him. “Doctor Fraiser? What has happened?”
“Daniel’s appendix ruptured. We had to take it out. But he’s fine, Teal’c. He’s going to be fine. Now I need you to rest while I contact the SGC.” She glanced at Dixon. “Colonel? You’ll be all right?”
He nodded, his own mask discarded. “Oh, I’m fine — now.”
After getting him
to help her throbbing right arm into a sling, she made her unsteady way to the gate and dialed home.
“What the hell, Doctor?” said Hammond. “You look like you’ve been run over by a truck! Is that — is that a sling?”
She bit her lip. “Yes, sir. We had a little hiccup.”
“Hiccup? What do you mean, hiccup?”
“Oh. You know. Teal’c in convulsions, Daniel with a ruptured appendix. Same old, same old. Oh yes.” She held up her arm. “And I’ve broken my wrist.”
“Janet!”
“I’m sorry, sir. I think I’m a little punch-drunk. How are Bill and his team coming along?”
“You’ll have your vaccine within forty-eight hours, Doctor. Do you think our people can hold on that long?”
Tears were so close. She couldn’t let them fall. “Yes, sir. I think they can.”
“Doctor, what about Jackson? You said his appendix ruptured?”
“It’s okay. We caught it. Colonel Dixon performed an emergency appendectomy, under my supervision. Daniel should make a full recovery.”
“And Teal’c?”
“A reaction to his symbiote losing so much blood. He’ll be fine too.”
“That’s… a relief, Doctor,” said Hammond. He sounded stunned.
You should try looking at it from my side of the wormhole, George.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “General, I need to go.”
“Yes, of course. Keep me apprised of your situation. Hammond out.”
She dragged herself back to the lab tent, where Teal’c was sleeping again and Dixon was collapsed on a stool, staring at unconscious Daniel as though he might sprout a pair of wings and fly away any second. Like herself, the colonel looked as though he’d been run over a truck.
“Hey, Doc,” he said. “What are we going to do about your arm?”
She looked at her broken wrist through its cradle of air-splint. “We’re going to do nothing. I’ll grit my teeth till it can be treated at home.”
“Is that a comment on my surgical expertise, Janet?”
She felt her face warm. “I hope you don’t mind that I called you David, sir. Under the circumstances — ”
“My mother’s the only woman who calls me David,” he mused. “And only when she’s really pissed. I prefer Dave, if it’s all the same to you.”
Despite everything, she had to smile. “Okay. Dave. I think I can manage that.”
“Oh, I think you can too, Doctor.” He managed a tired grin. “I don’t think there’s anything in the universe you can’t handle.”
She gave him a look, then crossed to Daniel. Ran his vitals. His color was improving. His blood pressure was a little low, but acceptable. He still had a fever, but it wasn’t life-threatening. All in all he was a lucky, lucky man.
Smoothing her good hand over his hair she said, “Hammond says we’ll have the vaccine within forty-eight hours.”
Dixon’s breath hitched. “And after its administered, we can go home?”
“If it works.” She looked at him steadily. “But I can’t promise it will, Dave. I wish I could.”
“But… there’s a chance, right?”
“Yes. There’s a chance.”
“Well, hell,” he said, and buried his drawn face in his hands. Surrendered to exhaustion. Emotion. Relief. After a moment he looked at her, eyes bright, cheeks wet. “It’ll work. We haven’t survived all this to fall flat on our butts now.”
From your lips to God’s ears, Colonel. Let’s pray you’re right.
“I need to check on Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter. Can I leave you here for a little while longer?”
He nodded. “Sure. But when you come back I will check out your wrist, and then you’re going to lie down for a while. Doctor Fraiser, you’ve had a busy day.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
The next thirty-six hours were the longest, most painful of Janet’s life. Abandoning Teal’c and Bhuiku to do what they could for the surviving Adjoans, keeping Dixon with her as an extra right hand, she divided her time between Daniel, Jack and Sam. To make life easier she corralled them in the same ICU tent. Daniel she kept sedated and on antibiotics, giving his long over-stressed body the rest it so desperately needed. Jack and Sam stayed on their existing regimen, drifting closer, inexorably, towards the brink.
She wasn’t a particularly religious woman… but when she wasn’t being a doctor she said her prayers, hard.
Ten minutes before the thirty-seven hour mark, the Adjo gate opened. It was General Hammond.
“Doctor Fraiser, stand by to receive urgent medical supplies.”
Janet a tidal wave of adrenaline. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“And Janet?” Hammond’s voice was alive with excitement. “Not only will you find there’s enough vaccine to treat everyone in Georgetown, but it’s guaranteed to get the job done.”
She stared into the MALP camera. “Sir? I don’t understand.”
He laughed, sounding younger and more carefree than she’d heard in weeks. “It’s amazing what you can do with a little help from your friends.”
It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. “General? You didn’t — did you go to Jacob Carter?”
“Yes, Doctor, I did.”
“I thought the President — ”
“The President is yet to be apprised of the situation,” said Hammond. He sounded remarkably jaunty, given he’d disregarded a direct order from his Commander in Chief. “There’ll be hell to pay when I tell him tonight, but frankly I don’t give a damn.”
“Why should there be trouble, sir? Surely Washington can’t object to the Tok’ra saving so many lives?” A nasty thought occurred. “Unless… sir, what did you have to give them to secure their help?”
“A piece of the mining action on Adjo.”
Oh boy. He was right. Washington would pitch a fit. “General, it was worth it. And if they don’t believe you, I’ll tell them myself.”
Hammond’s laughter was wry. “It may yet come down to that, Doctor. Okay. Keep your eyes peeled… we’re sending you the vaccine now.”
A few moments later the Adjoan wormhole rippled, and a trolley trundled through laden with sealed medical containers. Heart thudding erratically, Janet went to it. Touched them. Pressed fingers to her trembling lips. Then she returned to the MALP camera.
“General, shipment received. Please pass my thanks along to Jacob.”
“Will do. The Tok’ra scientists who’ve assisted Doctor Warner and his team assure me that you and the Adjoans will be completely free of viral contamination within twelve hours of receiving the vaccine. Once blood tests confirm it, you and SG-1 can come home. Of course you’ll be subjected to rigorous decontamination protocols…”
Not to mention the debriefing session of a lifetime… and for herself severely rapped knuckles. Maybe even an official censure.
But I don’t care. I don’t. That’s just words. This is life.
“Thank you, General,” she said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it seems I’ve got some vaccinating to do.”
Hammond laughed. “Certainly, Doctor. You’re dismissed.”
She found Teal’c, Dixon and Bhuiku in one of the mess tents, each forcing down an MRE.
“Doctor Fraiser?” said Teal’c, slowly standing. “What is the matter? You are weeping…”
Only then did she realize her cheeks were wet. “It’s the vaccine,” she said, her voice choked.
Dixon’s fist hit the trestle table. “No way. No way. They said it would work, they said — ”
“No! No!” she said quickly. “You don’t understand. General Hammond reached out to the Tok’ra. To Jacob. There’s enough vaccine for everyone in Georgetown… and it’s guaranteed to work.”
Bhuiku stared at them, his expression bewildered. “What do you say? What do you mean?”
She had to sit down. Her legs had gone all rubbery. “I mean, Bhuiku, that we’ve found a way to cure your people.”
“Hey,” said Dixon.
“I thought cure was a four-letter word.”
She laughed. God, how long had it been since she’d laughed? “Right now, Dave, I’m prepared to make an exception.”
“So… what happens now?” he said.
“Now?” She pushed to her feet. “Now, my friends, we get to do some good.”
The vaccine wasn’t designed to be given as shot. The patient’s upper arm or hip were nicked in a small, straight cut with a miniature spade-shaped knife dipped in the vaccine. Considerably more ambidextrous now than she’d been before her broken wrist, Janet demonstrated the technique to Teal’c and Dixon, using her own hip first, then demonstrated it again as she vaccinated Jack and Sam. Then she watched as Teal’c vaccinated Bhuiku, and Dixon vaccinated the proud young village girl Nebti. Satisfied as to their competence, she portioned out the vaccines… and the healing of Adjo began.
Hammond hadn’t been exaggerating. Whatever the Tok’ra did to enhance the original vaccine, it kicked in like a turbo-charger five hours after it was administered.
Seated at Jack’s side, dozing, she jerked awake as she heard him stir. As she watched, heart thudding, he groaned and opened his eyes. “Hey. Janet.” His voice was weak, a thready whisper. “What’s going on?”
She took his hand and leaned forward, smiling. “Hey yourself, Colonel. Guess what? We’re going home.”
Hammond, of course, was at the base of the gate ramp to mark SG-1’s return a day later. A team of vaccinated medical personnel had gone through to Adjo with stretchers for Jack, Sam and Daniel. Hammond’s expression, when he saw them carried down the ramp, wasn’t entirely under his control.
Janet, with Dixon and Teal’c beside her, followed them down the ramp then halted in front of Hammond.
“Sir,” she said, and offered him a shaky left-handed salute.
Hammond’s eyebrows lifted. “Now you remember to follow military protocol?”
“Sir — General Hammond — ” Her voice sounded tight, like her throat was strangling it. “About the other villages on Adjo. The plague — ”
“It’s in hand, Doctor,” said Hammond. “The Tok’ra will continue their humanitarian efforts.”