by Jamie Duncan
Sebek’s smile widened as he leaned forward to run a gold-capped finger across Daniel’s cheek, grip his chin, and lift his head so he could delve into him with those eyes. Jack couldn’t stop his hands from clenching and was rewarded with a flaring stab of pain from his broken finger.
“So,” Sebek said. Actually, it was more like a purr, his voice low and insinuating and confident, the voice of somebody who was used to never having to raise it or repeat anything. He had perfect teeth and showed them all as he turned Daniel’s head this way and that. “You are going to unlock our treasure chest.”
The voice crawled up Jack’s spine and slithered into his head. Things stirred somewhere at the back of his brain, sibilant.
“Aris Boch tells us many things about your people. He has promised us that you are intelligent, talented in unique ways, and that you will be useful to us.” Sebek smiled again and let Daniel go. “In addition to being sturdy and rather beautiful.”
Daniel’s face was taking on that clenched-jawed resistance, his brow notched in a frown. He met Sebek’s eyes directly, and Jack pretended he didn’t notice how similar their stares were. Behind him, he could hear Carter getting to her feet, the faint whisper of her jacket against the stone as she dragged herself up the wall. Sebek’s eyes slid away from Daniel and looked over Jack’s shoulder at her, frankly interested and assessing. The slithering at the back of Jack’s skull was making his flesh crawl.
Sebek turned his attention to Teal’c. “Shol’va,” Sebek murmured, drawing out the epithet like it was a term of endearment. The smile thinned and became satisfied, cruel. “A prize. There are many who would offer great rewards for your return. There will be a demonstration of our power, and you will remind your brethren what it means to defy a god.”
“I will not.”
Shrugging Teal’c’s assertion away, Sebek addressed Aris. “You.”
Aris stepped forward, his blaster angled toward the ground. Jack had to flinch a little inwardly when Aris bowed his head; he could feel the muscles protesting. His own neck twinged in sympathy and he added that to the list of things to hate the Goa’uld for, since sympathy for Aris Boch was the last thing Jack wanted to feel.
“If you are correct about these,” Sebek waved a golden hand in the team’s direction. “Perhaps your—”
He stopped, and the hand came up to his temple as his eyes rolled up for a second, showing white. Jack could hear Carter breathing hard behind him and a sound that might have been, “Oh, God,” but he didn’t turn to look; he focused on the Jaffa who shifted nervously, hunching their shoulders. The ones in the skull caps exchanged quick glances; the other two were like machines in their helmets, but still they seemed to crumple for a moment under the weight of their armor before recovering. Jack felt like he could crumple a little, too, curl away from the winding slither along his spine, and he reached out to steady himself on Daniel’s shoulder, only to yelp out in pain when his hand grazed the field between them. Not that Daniel would have been able to do much, anyway, since he was swaying on his feet, eyes wide, unseeing.
Teal’c caught Jack, kept him upright while his vision grayed out and the hissing in his head tried to resolve into words. When Jack opened his eyes, confused as hell, Sebek had recovered and was watching him with that same unwavering gaze. Inwardly, Jack cursed missed opportunities.
The snake angled his head toward Aris, then pointed to Daniel.
“Bring him,” he ordered.
Hopping to it like a well-trained dog, Aris grabbed Daniel and dragged him after the Goa’uld toward the vault. Daniel’s feet were slow, his body boneless, and he stumbled in Aris’ grip with both hands cupped over his glasses, his head hanging low.
“You will open this door,” Sebek said with imperturbable assurance. There was a faint clatter as his capped fingers ran across the incised writing and then over the raised Ancient warning. “You will open it, and we will claim our rightful prize.”
Daniel straightened and looked up at the door, his own fingers reaching out and sweeping reverently across the writing. “So… you actually know what’s in there?” he asked faintly.
Oh, no. No way, Jack thought. He knew that tone of voice. That was the sound of Daniel disappearing into a question, sliding into that place where all that mattered was the script and the dead voices. “Hey!” he shouted. “If you’re so interested in getting in there, why don’t you do it yourself? You’re the god here, right?”
Sebek turned his full attention on Jack, and Jack steeled himself for whatever was going to come next. As so many snakes did, Sebek stared him down, as if unable to believe the level of insolence that was being shoved in his face. Jack got some satisfaction out of that. Even if it was the last he was likely to have for a while. “Release them,” Sebek ordered, and Aris’ hand went to his wrist, where the controls were. The force field separating them from the Jaffa fell.
This is the chance, Jack thought. His muscles tensed, ready for action. Sebek’s eyes were bright, and they were narrowed at Jack, and a moment later, when Sebek’s hand came up and leveled the ribbon device at him, Jack could feel his grimace of pain beginning even before the actual sensation hit. Daniel was shouting as Jack hit his knees, saying formless words that were lost in the haze of agony… and then the pain stopped.
Jack pitched forward and caught himself on his hands, panting heavily. That had been too easy. He’d had worse. Much worse. It wasn’t a good sign; there was more to come. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and listened to Daniel’s voice.
“If you do that again, I’ll never help you,” Daniel said, in such a quiet, firm voice that Jack felt enormous pride in him. Even if it was incredibly unlikely his threat would work. So much for Daniel’s curiosity.
In the silence that followed, Jack got himself together and his legs under him, and Teal’c’s arm looped under his and hauled him up. He hated himself for showing such obvious weakness, even if it was out of his control. “Thanks,” he muttered, and Teal’c squeezed his arm, a silent signal. Jack followed the direction of Teal’c’s gaze, then met his eyes and Carter’s, who nodded her understanding. Four Jaffa, one Goa’uld. The odds were even, more or less. There would never be a better chance.
Sebek moved toward Daniel with his easy predatory grace and stepped into his space, as if Daniel was a thing he owned. He was too close. If they made their move, and Daniel wasn’t quick enough… Daniel was standing as straight and stiff as he could, trying to match Sebek’s height; for a moment, neither moved.
Teal’c’s grip on Jack’s arm tightened before his hand dropped away. As soon as the opportunity came, they were going to take it.
“Your threats are meaningless,” Sebek said, and waved at the Jaffa, who leveled their weapons at SG-1. “If your friends mean anything to you, your choice is simple.”
Daniel didn’t look at any of them. His chin came up, and he pointed to the Ancient inscription. “Do you see this? Do you have the slightest understanding of what it means? It’s a warning. It means whatever’s in there is dangerous. A warning from the Ancients is incredibly rare.” He leaned forward, nostrils flaring, gaze still locked with Sebek’s, and said, “Only a very, very foolish person would ignore it. Whatever’s in there is causing… this.” Daniel swept one hand around in a circle, indicating all of them. “None of us are immune to its power.”
Sebek threw back his head and laughed with typical Goa’uld condescension. “Why should a warning from a long-dead race mean anything to us?” he asked. He gripped Daniel by the neck, long fingers sliding around his throat like steel talons. “It is that power we must harness. So now you will choose, or we will choose for you.”
“Don’t do it, Daniel. That’s an order.” It didn’t need to be said, or so Jack hoped, but the words burst out of him anyway. Daniel’s eyes shifted his direction, the whites pink with blood from bursting capillaries, and then Sebek raised him off the ground until the tips of his boots skimmed the dirt beneath him. Daniel made a strangled sound
, words caught up and jumbled in the void of air.
Jack made his move.
Two steps, one punch, and he knocked the nearest Jaffa on the ground. Their body armor couldn’t protect their faces, and Jack was on top of him in a split second, beating, punching, drawing blood with his fist. He heard the commotion behind him, zat fire, a shout, the thump of fists on flesh and a harsh cry of pain, but no time to stop to see who was coming out ahead. He knew his team’s abilities; if it could be done, they’d do it. He got to his feet and turned in Sebek’s direction, but the blinding pain hit him again, so fast it lifted all the breath from his body. He gasped and fell to his knees, and a hand landed on his shoulder. Sebek. The stream of light from the ribbon device blinded him, and the roaring in his ears grew louder as his muscles contracted, as his body tried to fight the invasion of fire in every cell.
“Sir!” Carter’s voice, from somewhere behind him, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t fight, couldn’t do anything at all but gasp and breathe and wait for it to be over. Blackness encroached on the edges of Jack’s vision, a cool darkness that wanted him, and he wanted to fall into it.
And then he was on the ground, and the light was gone, and there was a sound so awful he couldn’t process it. Someone was shrieking. Carter? No. Too shrill. Not Teal’c, or Daniel. Jack struggled to place the noise, but his thoughts were too jumbled to be any good. Nothing made sense.
“No!” Teal’c shouted, and the distress in his voice brought Jack back from the edge of unconsciousness.
“God, no, oh, God,” Carter cried, and Jack rolled to his side, afraid for her.
When his vision cleared, he saw her. With a look of stricken horror on her face, Carter was frozen, one hand still on the throat of the Jaffa she had overpowered, all her attention on Daniel, who was on his hands and knees, rising carefully, a little uncoordinated but intact. Teal’c, who held a zat in his hand, taken from the Jaffa he had just killed, was unharmed. Confused, Jack looked back at Daniel, then—it had to be Daniel, though he seemed fine, he seemed—
On the ground next to Jack, Sebek was sprawled, eyes open. Dead. Daniel must have killed him. For this, Jack was going to forego the standard ribbing when Daniel said he didn’t really want beer with his thank-yous. He looked up, the start of a grateful smile on his face… and then he stopped. Daniel was leaning on the wall, one hand splayed across the writing, oblivious to it, and he was staring at Jack. Slowly, a smile spread over his features and narrowed his eyes, a smile that was unlike Daniel. Not Daniel. But Jack had seen that smile before.
“Daniel,” he whispered, and the smile widened.
“No,” Daniel said, in a voice that was not his own, a voice corrupted by the thing inside him. A sick horror flooded through Jack as Daniel’s eyes flashed the terrible yellow-white of possession. Sebek smiled out at him, using Daniel’s body. “Now your friend will tell us what we wish to know.”
Jack’s entire being rebelled. His stomach turned over and he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t look. Not Daniel. God, not Daniel. But it was too late. There was a hand at his collar, and he let it haul him to his feet without protest; his body was barely under his control anyway. He was no use to Carter and Teal’c this way.
Or Daniel.
“Be smart,” a voice whispered in his ear, and it took him a moment to register it: Aris. Fury surged up within Jack; this was Aris Boch’s fault. If Aris hadn’t brought them there, Daniel wouldn’t be lost to them. Jack pulled away with a snarl, but Aris snapped him back with little effort. “Be smart,” he said again, shoving his weapon into Jack’s back.
“Take them,” Sebek said to Aris, and it was Daniel’s voice, on purpose, to taunt them. Jack heard a small sound that might have been a sob from Carter. He raised his head, locking eyes with Sebek to see Daniel’s light blue gaze subsumed by the snake’s will.
Jack turned to check the remainder of his team. Carter’s face was contorted with her misery, and Teal’c seemed ready to snap Sebek’s neck, even if that neck just happened to be Daniel’s, too. Aris jabbed Jack in the back again, and Jack threw his hands out to the side.
“Okay,” he said, and at the sound of his voice, Carter and Teal’c looked to him, seeking something to hold on to. He nodded to them both. Best he could do. They’d talk it over later. If there was time.
He caught a last sideways glimpse of Daniel as Aris herded them through the tunnels and back up to the surface, the remaining Jaffa trailing behind. Daniel’s hands were running over the writing on the wall; Daniel’s smile was filled with joy.
No. Not Daniel anymore, Jack reminded himself. Next time he saw the thing that used to be his friend, he might have to kill it. When the bile rose in his throat, he pushed it down, merciless.
That thing wasn’t Daniel anymore.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was good to be away from the pounding in the mine. Sam’s head felt a little clearer already, except for a roaring in her ears that came from the inside. It was hard to see through it, think through it. She resisted pressing her fists against her ears or rubbing them across her eyes. Instead, she counted intersecting hallways, left turns, right turns. Modeled after the ha’tak, whose shadow sliced across the city and blocked out the light of twin moons, the complex seemed reassuringly familiar. The Goa’uld weren’t innovative. They organized their space predictably. It wouldn’t be hard to find their way out again, after they’d taken care of the Jaffa. After they’d taken care of Aris Boch.
Up ahead of her, the Colonel’s fingers tapped out an uneven rhythm on his thigh as he walked; he was counting, too. When he turned his head to look down a passageway, she could see him in profile. His face was expressionless. Behind her, Teal’c was probably making a similar survey of the complex, although for him it would be more of a refresher course than anything else. A hundred years following prisoners through the corridors of Goa’uld mother-ships and bunkers would leave their mark in his memory, indelible as the lines in his palm. Even though she knew from experience where the brig was within the rectangular base of the structure, she counted hallways anyway. Her mind was still a little unruly and not counting meant thinking about Daniel.
He would be conscious, she knew. He’d watch his hands move, and the gestures would be all wrong. When Daniel was Daniel, he would read the writing on the vault door and his fingers would spread out, steepled and stiff above the incised figures—all those dancing human forms and intersecting curves that looked like animals balanced on mountains or wave crests—and he’d follow along each line like the physical movement of his hand through the air could restrain his brain a little, keep it from rushing ahead. Sebek wouldn’t know this. Sebek would use Daniel’s hands all wrong.
Sam balled her fists. The Colonel’s hands hung open at his sides. She took a few deep breaths and made her fingers uncurl.
“Here,” Aris said. The entourage stopped, two Jaffa on either side of the cell door.
The brig was a little different from the ones she’d been in on the motherships. The same exterior wall of horizontal bars, a door set into a solid wall, activated by a code on a touchpad. There were two other cells, one on either side, both empty. Sam thought of the people she’d seen scrabbling up the piles in the mine, following the carts, stumbling back down again into the black-rock darkness, or the ones sleeping huddled up against the fractured walls of the city, trying to absorb some of the dissipating heat of the day from the stone. They were rags and angles, and when they watched the Jaffa pass with their prisoners, there was nothing in their eyes, not even fear. Aris didn’t even turn his head to look at them. The whole planet was a prison. Sebek didn’t have much to be worried about.
She couldn’t think of Sebek without the image of Daniel’s face invading her mind. Sebek would carry Daniel’s weight wrong. He wouldn’t tilt his head back and let his mouth fall open while he was thinking; “the genius guppy look” the Colonel called it sometimes, when he was pretending to be annoyed. Daniel would feel the wrongness of Sebek’s gestures,
the horror of them. She shuddered. Sebek had smiled. He’d raised Daniel’s head, and there had been blood on his lips, and he’d looked at her.
The roaring in her ears made her feel sick. She followed the Colonel into the cell, stepped aside to let Teal’c in after her. They all turned to face Aris.
“You son of a bitch,” the Colonel said, matter-of-factly, like he was noting how old Aris was, or that it was raining outside.
“I told him to work faster,” Aris answered. “Now, he’ll work faster.” He slapped the panel on the wall. “On the bright side, maybe now I won’t have to break any more of your fingers,” he added as the door slid shut.
“Well, there’s that,” the Colonel replied with a bitter half-smile. He walked to the open bars of the exterior wall so that he could watch Aris walk away, taking three of the Jaffa with him. His jaw worked for a moment, then he turned to face Sam and Teal’c. “Options, people. Let’s hear it.”
“Sebek knows what Daniel knows,” Sam said. “Codes, everything.”
Teal’c added, “If Sebek is in service to Lord Yu, he will be able to earn much favor in return for this knowledge. The System Lords will make good use of it.”