City of the Gods

by Stargate

  Outside, the snowfall had increased and the air was oppressive, warning of the imminent storm.

  "I checked the last hut," Carter said when she joined him. "It's clear."

  "Okay." Jack added Dabruzzi's case to the second FRED and fastened the straps. "Let's go."

  During the walk back, the temperature steadily declined. So did the visibility. A thick mist filled the valley, covering the Stargate platform and ramp until only the ring was visible. Wisps of fog curled around the `gate like spectral fingers. It looked more like a piece of jewelry carelessly discarded by some bygone race of giants than a highly sophisticated piece of technology. Jack shivered and pulled his jacket closer. He'd been watching too many movies with Teal'c.

  Abruptly, the mist closed in on them until the visibility was reduced to a few feet. "Could this place get any more gloomy?" he griped, checking his compass. "Crap. It's going around in circles."

  Dabruzzi had warned them that compasses and radios were next to useless on the volcanic moon. Although the `gate was only a short distance away, if they didn't reach it soon, they would have to stop and wait for the fog to lift.

  "The ground's icing up," replied Carter. She carefully guided the FRED between a bunch of scraggly bushes half buried in snow.

  "So am I." Jack pulled his sunglasses off The visibility didn't much improve, but he could make out the shadow of the cliff. A few minutes later, something darker loomed ahead of them. It was the ramp to the `gate.

  Having tried, and failed, to contact the medevac team three times, Jack was somewhat surprised when his radio crackled. "O'Neill," he replied, looking around.

  Amidst the clutter of noise and static, he heard, "... have Peterson and MacDougall."

  "Copy that. How're they doing?"

  "Better than Anders ...wait ...you?"

  Peering myopically into the fog, Jack turned his radio off and called, "Tsipouras?"

  "Up here, Colonel. We're on the platform."

  The vague tightness in Jack's gut eased a little. "Okay, Captain," he called. "Dial the `gate." The fully laden FREDs had plenty of traction, but the ice made the ground treacherous, and the ramp was narrow. It would take some minutes to get them to the top.

  Another tremor rolled across the valley. The metallic whine and clunk of the rotating `gate was only marginally louder than the rumbling from the volcano. Through the fog, Jack could see the amber glow of chevrons locking into place. The wormhole shot out, displacing the mist, then snapped reassuringly into place.

  "Sir," Tsipouras called down. "You need a hand with the FREDs?"

  "That's okay, Captain," Jack replied, "Go on through and hold the `gate open at the other end."

  The medevac team lifted the stretchers and stepped into the event horizon. Just as Jack guided the first FRED up onto the platform, he heard the second FRED whine to a halt. He turned around. It had stalled at the top of the ramp. "Oh, for - "

  Carter smiled, pushed her hood back and squatted by the engine. "I'll get it moving again, sir."

  The uneasy feeling that had been with Jack since they'd arrived abruptly transformed into an overwhelming sense of dread. In one swift move he lifted his P90, crouched behind the first FRED and searched the landscape for an unseen enemy. On the ramp, Carter was doing the same. Crap, that meant it wasn't his imagination. "Major?" he called softly.

  "Nothing, sir." A quick, uncertain frown crossed her face.

  The sooner they were out of here, the better; this place was seriously creeping him out.

  "It's probably the sub-harmonics," she added, still looking around. "At certain frequencies, seismic waves set up a discordant sensation in your brain - "

  "My brain's discordant enough, Major. Just get the -" A bright flash lit the sky. He swung around to cover Carter. Nothing. Except that the fog in the valley suddenly cleared, and he could see the face of the dam - which appeared to shift somehow. An unearthly sound, like a whole yard full of freight trains tore past his ears. Then everything started shaking. "Holy ...crap!" When the shockwave hit, he could actually see the basalt ramp buckle and bend beneath Carter.

  Jack had been in earthquakes before, and there was nothing particularly unusual about this one, but the FRED was in danger of being shaken off the platform. He grabbed the vehicle to steady it - or himself. Then Carter's high-pitched scream cut through the wrenching noise. The second FRED had pitched backwards, knocking her down and pinning her foot between the wheels.

  "Carter!" Jack shoved the first machine into the disconcertingly tranquil event horizon, and then all but threw himself down the ramp. A shorter, deeper rumbling and shaking now replaced the long rolls of the `quake. He looked up - and a spasm of raw terror clenched his groin. The dam had vanished, and a churning wall of gray water was bearing down on them.

  "Oh, God. Run!" Carter yelled. "You can make it through the gate!"

  "No!" He grabbed her by the arms and pulled, but the heavily laden FRED held her pinned to the icy slope.

  "Go!" she shouted. He couldn't hear her through the incredible noise tearing across the valley, but her could see her lips and her eyes, begging him to save himself. To leave her. Again. He let go of her arms and slammed his shoulder against the FRED, desperately trying to push the machine off her.

  The thirty-foot high wall of heaving, foaming boiling water was almost on them. Jack briefly entertained the hope that it might wash them into the wormhole - they could probably survive a little scalding - but the angle was wrong. He met Carter's eyes, and then the water tore him away and tossed him into the filthy, steaming maelstrom.

  CHAPTER THREE

  tchoo!"

  Another earth tremor diverted the rental agent's attention from Teal'c's fedora to a massive basket of ferns swaying overhead. The greenery failed to liven up the cubbyhole office, which was jammed between shops selling duty free tequila and Aztec sun calendars made in Taiwan.

  Snatching up the rental contract and keys, Daniel backed away from the threatening plants. The increasingly powerful quakes were a reminder that the eruption of Mt Popocatepetl, affectionately known as Popo to the locals, was imminent. Although the volcano did not pose a direct threat - it was fifty miles away - the perennially potent mix of hydrocarbons and allergy-triggering pollutants that dominated the city's air had sent his rhinitis into a frenzy.

  Daniel's sneezing finally let up when they reached the hills around Tepeyac. Through the car window he cast a miserable eye at the setting sun. Barely discernible behind a thick cloud of pollution and volcanic haze, it sent outrageous streaks of scarlet and purple across the sky. The Aztecs, who had ruled Mexico before Cortez arrived, had always considered a red sunset to be a bad omen.

  It was dark by the time they reached the Hacienda San Miguel de Teotihuacan. At the reception desk, a middle-aged concierge welcomed Daniel and Teal'c to the hotel, and asked, "You have come for the big party tonight, senors?" His enormous Pancho Villa moustache curled upwards in a smile.

  Cheers, clapping hands and squeals of delight drifted across the large swimming pool and into the reception, momentarily drowning out the sounds of the mariachi band. Festivals, usually religious and always colorful, were almost weekly events in Mexico. This celebration, however, was punctuated by American accents and champagne corks.

  "Professor Wodeski invited me." Daniel replied, glancing outside. "Ah...I sent some documents to the professor earlier today. Could you just check..?" He indicated the message boxes on the wall behind the desk.

  The concierge reached into box 249, and a slight frown creased his brow. "I regret, senor, it has not arrived as yet." He peered across the pool. "I can ask the professor if you wish. He is just over there."

  "No, that's fine." Daniel's smile widened. "I have a copy with me.

  Once inside their room, Teal'c went to the large, open window and looked out across the terrace pool to the party. "It would appear that the discovery of the crystal skull is well known."

  "I don't think that's why they're celebrating,"
Daniel replied, pulling off his jacket. "Crystal skulls are unusual, but they're not a major find. The glyphs are." He glanced through the window to the pool. "C'mon," he added, heading back out the door. "While Wodeski's soaking up the adoration from his postgrad students - who undoubtedly did all of the work - I want to try and get a look inside his room."

  Inclining his head in understanding, Teal'c followed. "That is why you wished to know the number."

  Wodeski's room was only a short distance along the hallway. Daniel knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he looked around to make certain no one was watching, then ran his hand along the doorframe and the blackened, wrought iron hinges. "This place was built to withstand a siege." Crouching down, he examined the catch. After several minutes experimentation with a penknife, he muttered, "I wish Sam were here. Her lock-picking skills would make a cat-burglar envious. Not that I've had any experience with cat-burglars, but..."

  The door opened from the inside. Daniel looked up guiltily - at Teal'c. "How did you? Where did you - ?"

  "The evening is warm, and Professor Wodeski's window was open to the terrace." Teal'c turned and went back inside.

  Daniel blinked. "Right. Of course."

  A short time later, he was standing in Wodeski's bathroom, holding an exquisite gold death mask in his hand. The workmanship was extraordinary. Inlaid with a pattern of tiny turquoise tiles, the design was virtually identical to a death mask found in 1999, in a burial chamber beneath the Pyramid of the Moon, only a few hundred yards north of the Pyramid of the Sun. Archeologists were certain that the tomb had belonged to one of the mysterious original inhabitants of Teotihuacan.

  "I have found something," Teal'c called from the main room.

  "So have I." Daniel's voice was heavy with disappointment. He'd had his suspicions for some time; this confirmed it. Wodeski was an archeological thief.

  It had nothing to do with money; the professor was most likely hoarding a collection of priceless artifacts in one of the family mansions scattered around the world. But a theft like this could prompt the already paranoid Mexican government into rescinding the permits of honest researchers.

  Daniel walked out of the bathroom to see Teal'c reading what at first glance looked like a comic book. "Where did you get that?"

  Teal'c looked up. "I find your television shows most instructive. This was between the mattress and the base of the bed" Pointing to three brightly colored glyphs on the cover, he handed it to Daniel.

  The ancient codex was not a book in the conventional sense, but a long piece of fig bark, or amatl folded together like an accordion, and illustrated with pictograms. Frowning in concentration, Daniel examined the images. "Is this what I think it is?"

  "I do not know. What are you thinking?"

  The first glyph was of a man wearing a maxtlatl - a loincloth with a long apron - holding a human skull close to his face. In the second, rays of golden light enveloped the man and the skull. The third glyph showed the man entering the ninth, or perhaps it was the tenth level of Heaven, Omeyocan. Before him was the god, Quetzalcoatl. "It's an instruction manual," said Daniel, "in how to use the crystal skull."

  Outside, an explosion of fireworks lit up the night sky. Colored lights followed, dancing across the low clouds. Teal'c looked out through the open window. "What is that, Daniel Jackson?"

  One of the attractions of Teotihuacan was a Disney-style laserlight show featuring the once mighty warriors of the Aztec empire. Aside from the historical inaccuracy, it meant that the Mexican authorities had ignored the warning from the USGS; the tourist dollar was too alluring.

  Fingering the glyphs on the codex, Daniel mused, "I wonder what stopped him from completing the process the first time?" Wodeski had read Nick's paper years ago. Although the professor might have forgotten the details, the codex provided him with all the information he needed to use the skull.

  Teal'c continued to watch the fireworks. "Perhaps he became fearful when lights shone from the skull."

  "Given that he's probably kept the skull's existence a secret, he would have been more concerned about being discovered..." Daniel's voice trailed off and his eyes widened in realization. "Uhoh." He dropped the codex onto the bed and ran out the door. "The show! That's why Wodeski's waited. He can use the lights and noise as a distraction!"

  After fruitless minutes searching the party for the professor, Daniel checked with the concierge, who replied, "Si, Senor. Professor Wodeski said he was going out for a short time. He will soon return."

  Daniel and Teal'c hurried out to the parking lot. In the sky, the laser-lights flickered wildly. Daniel could feel, as much as hear, the deep bass drums and conch-shell trumpets. Heart pounding almost as loudly as the music, he wasted precious seconds trying to shove the wrong key into the car's ignition. More fireworks exploded overhead. The engine roared to life. Oblivious to the speed bumps, he shoved his foot on the accelerator and raced out of the driveway.

  A half-mile along the road, he swung the car into a sharp turn, spraying gravel against the open wooden gates. Almost directly ahead of them rose the floodlit Pyramid of the Sun, centerpiece of the ancient city of Teotihuacan. Nearby, more lights illuminated the smaller but equally daunting Pyramid of the Moon.

  Tour buses and dilapidated pickups, the latter most likely used to bring in entertainers, were lined up in the parking lot beside the Avenue of the Dead. Daniel leaped from the car, almost bumping into a woebegone donkey tied to the gate. The animal eyed him suspiciously while the bored ticket attendant informed him and Teal'c that they were late, but they needn't hurry, for the main attraction had yet to begin.

  The white spotlights on the pyramids dimmed, then colored lights played across a stage in the center of the Avenue of the Dead. It looked more like a transplanted movie set from Close Encounters than an archeological dig. The drums and trumpets changed tempo, heralding the entrance of spectacularly costumed jaguar and eagle warriors who flanked a muscled and bronzed reincarnation of Moctezuma II, last ruler of the Aztec civilization. The Aztecs had made overdressing an art form, one that even the Goa'uld couldn't surpass. Adorned in gold jewelry, a huge quetzal-feathered headdress and cape, and an elaborately embroidered loincloth, the actor actually looked like the real thing. Ooohs and ahhs rolled across the audience. Of course, most of these people failed to appreciate that Moctezuma II had never ruled Teotihuacan. The city had been abandoned more than half a century before the Aztec nation even came into existence.

  The booming drums sent shudders through the ground, heightening Daniel's anxiety. He and Teal'c pushed through the crowds until they reached the southern face of the Pyramid of the Sun. Daniel had expected to see the area cordoned off to protect the integrity of the dig, but even he was surprised by the additional security measures. Razor wire fences surrounded the entire quadrant, and signs in Spanish and English warned potential intruders that guards patrolled the area twenty-four hours.

  "The lock has been broken," Teal'c said, pulling the gate open.

  "And where are the guards?" Daniel looked around.

  Impelled by an even greater sense of urgency, they hurried down into the excavation pit and along a dimly lit tunnel. Thick, insulated power cables ran along the wall. Why would anyone need that much power for lighting?

  They emerged into a larger excavated underground area, which had been set up with machinery, worktables and computers. It took Daniel a few moments to realize what was going on. Then he saw a dark burgundy puddle oozing across the ground.

  Teal'c was already on the other side of the bench, looking down. "I believe I have found the guards."

  Daniel was no stranger to the sight of gaping flesh and jagged bone, the result of heavy caliber bullets tearing through the human body. But he still felt a deep sense of frustration and anger at the violence.

  "Would Professor Wodeski have killed these men?" Teal'c asked.

  "I wouldn't have thought so." Daniel frowned thoughtfully at the flashing lights and computer displays. "Bu
t this would explain the security measures and power cables. The Museum has been running the same experiment used to search for hidden chambers at Giza. This is a muon detector. And it's starting to spike!"

  "This way," Teal'c called, and ran down a narrow tunnel heading beneath the pyramid.

  Daniel followed. Suddenly, a familiar, golden light flooded the passage, and the stone walls began to shake. Loud creaks and shudders echoed ominously, and rubble began to fall. "Teal'c!" he called. "It's too late, come back!"

  A supporting beam crashed down in front of Daniel. Chunks of rock followed. The golden light grew brighter. "Teal'c!" Daniel had no idea how far the effects of the skull would reach; it could conceivably transport him along with Wodeski. But because Teal'c carried a symbiote, he would be left behind while the pyramid collapsed on top of him. "Teal'c! You have to get out of here!"

  The ground heaved beneath Daniel's feet, and choking dust billowed along the tunnel. More rocks fell and another beam caught his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Before he could get up, the light vanished, then something heavy slammed into his head.

  Cold! Bitter cold knifed through Sam's chest. The Colonel's ragged voice, "C'mon Carter, hurry up and breathe. I'm freezing my butt off, here! Shit..." Something clumsily pinched her nose. Through the noise, she heard his desperate whisper, "C'mon, Sam."

  Damp warmth ringed with sharp, bristly cold covered her mouth, and then air was forced into her lungs. She gagged and coughed. Hands rolled her on to her side as a hot gush of vomit burned up her throat and sinuses and she spewed.

  "Yes!" cried O'Neill.

  Why was the Colonel so thrilled at the sight of her heaving her guts out? Sam felt her hair brushed back from her face; felt him holding her shoulders as she threw up again and again. A shockingly bright light burst from the leaden sky. Seconds later it was followed by a loud, explosive noise. Artillery? A spasm of fear quashed her nausea. The rumble grew louder and deeper. Not artillery - lightning.