Stargate SG-1 - Permafrost

by Sally Malcolm

  Kitting up involved piling on layers of clothes, but not settling an MP5 against her tac vest, and that made Sam more than a little jittery. All she had to defend herself with was her Beretta, holstered under her parka.

  Teal’c zipped up his coat, pulling the watch cap low over his forehead to hide the mark of Apophis. “I would feel more comfortable,” he said, echoing Sam’s thoughts, “if I were better armed.”

  “Yeah, me too,” the colonel said, slinging his pack over one shoulder. “But we’re not in Kansas anymore, Teal’c. We can’t go walking around fully-armed in someone else’s country.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because...we just can’t. There are rules, right Carter?”

  “Yes sir. In fact, we shouldn’t even be carrying a personal sidearm.”

  He spared her a serious look. “Oh, I think we should.”

  And she wasn’t going to argue with that; some rules were meant to be bent.

  “We don’t know there’ll be anything dangerous out there,” Daniel said, from where he sat bundled up in his parka and waiting near the door. He looked hot, a little sweat beading on his forehead. The heating in this place was fierce. “But there had to be a reason the Asg—” He cleared his throat, lowered his voice. “That our friends left a warning behind.”

  “Whatever the reason,” the colonel said, “let’s hope it’s long gone.”

  Sam couldn’t help thinking that, if any of them really believed that, they’d still be in Colorado and not setting out for the snowbound highlands of Iceland six days before Christmas. It made her miss her MP5 even more keenly.

  By the time Sam followed the rest of her team across the runway toward the Pave Hawk, its rotor blades were already turning in lazy circles. It was 1400 hours, local time, and the sun was skimming the horizon, peering out from a break in the clouds and turning the sky crimson. It would be fully dark before they reached the dig site.

  “Hey,” she nudged Daniel’s arm, “maybe we’ll see the aurora borealis.”

  He grinned. “That would be cool. Do you think we will?”

  “Maybe.” She glanced up at the sky, at the heavy cloud cover. “But not tonight.”

  Daniel looked up too, just as they walked beneath the chopper blades. He made a face. “You know, intellectually, I understand that this thing is perfectly safe...”

  “Perfectly,” Sam assured him. “We’ve definitely flown in things much less safe.”

  He gave her a sideways look. “Yet that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  The colonel and Teal’c had already climbed inside, and she let Daniel go first and followed him into the body of the helicopter. The pilot, Captain O’Connell, turned around in her seat and smiled when she saw Sam.

  “Welcome aboard, Captain.”

  “Thanks.” She glanced at the patch on the woman’s arm. “Guardians of the North, huh?”

  O’Connell grinned. “Yes ma’am, 85th Group. Guarding the north since 1952.”

  Sam sat down and strapped in opposite Colonel O’Neill. “That must make us the Guardians of the Galaxy,” he said, his words almost inaudible as the rotor speed started to increase.

  “The what, sir?” Sam yelled over the noise.

  He gave her a despairing look, settled his headphones over his ears and adjusted the mic. Sam did the same.

  “You never read comic-books when you were a kid, Carter?” The colonel’s words, tinny over the wires, came right into her ear.

  She pulled down her own mic to reply. “No, sir. Not really a comic-book fan.”

  He just shook his head and waved a dismissive hand at her. “Kids today...”

  Beneath her, Sam felt the helicopter get light on its skids and start to move forward. From her seat she could see out the window and watched as the lights of Keflavik fell away, her stomach swooping along with the helicopter as it took fight. Opposite, Daniel gave her a pained look and kept his eyes fixed dead ahead.

  Too bad, because he was missing an incredible view. Beneath them, the setting sun drenched the snow in scarlet, jagged mountains of volcanic black pierced the ice, and all around them the sky was filled with ruddy clouds. “Wow,” she breathed, and didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until the colonel replied.

  “Who knew this planet could be so awesome?”

  She smiled at that, because it was true. They crossed the galaxy to visit worlds covered in nothing but pine trees, yet here on planet earth was this landscape of utterly alien beauty. “I guess sometimes you don’t notice the amazing things right under your nose, sir.”

  A beat fell. “Nah,” he said. “I notice.”

  There was something in his tone that made her look up, but the colonel’s attention was fixed on the ground streaming past below them.

  Captain O’Connell’s voice crackled over her headset. “We’re just leaving Keflavik, flying north-north-east into a strong headwind,” she said. “ETA at Kjölur is a little past 1600 hours, so sit back, relax and enjoy the in-flight entertainment while you still can. Sun sets in approximately forty-four minutes.”

  Sam turned her gaze back to the window and her attention to the mission ahead. They had no idea what to expect out in this wilderness: maybe something, maybe nothing. And just like any mission through the gate, they’d be far from backup.

  Danger. Beware. Do not disturb.

  What would make the Asgard, of all people, leave a message like that on Earth? She looked over at Daniel, but his eyes were closed. Teal’c gazed out of the opposite window, the sunlight casting red shadows across his face.

  Darkness gathered ahead, night unbroken by moon or stars. Behind them, the sun was sinking and its dying light looked less beautiful now and more ominous. It looked dark, like blood spreading across the snow.

  Sam Carter didn’t believe in omens. Nonetheless, she shivered and turned her head away.

  Chapter Two

  The opportunity to visit other places on Earth was rare, and therefore much appreciated. However, accustomed as he was to the cold of Chulak, this dark and empty plateau would not have been Teal’c’s first choice of destination.

  Snow, blown up by the blades of the helicopter, swirled in the air and made it difficult for Teal’c to see the encampment only some hundred meters away. It was a low building, snow-covered yet glowing warm and golden in the darkness. It appeared most inviting and he was eager to get inside.

  Colonel O’Neill, however, did not seem to share his desire for haste. He was talking with the pilot of the helicopter, his hands gesturing to compensate for the engine noise. The captain nodded, signaled ‘OK’ and at last O’Neill came jogging across the snow to where Teal’c stood. Daniel Jackson and Captain Carter were already heading for the cabin, accompanied by one of the two archaeologists stationed here.

  “O’Connell said the storm’s gonna blow through in about five hours,” O’Neill said, just as the rotor blades started spinning faster, whipping up a whirlwind of snow and forcing them both to turn their backs, hunching against the force.

  A moment later it subsided and the helicopter was airborne. Teal’c turned, watched it dip its nose and head back – he could only assume – the way they had come. It was too dark to make out any features, or a single star. The pilot must be flying using instruments alone.

  “They’ll come get us in three days,” O’Neill said, also watching the lights of the helicopter disappear into the night. “But these guys have a radio, so we can check in with NASKEF as necessary. And with the SGC.”

  There was a tightness about O’Neill’s expression that Teal’c did not like. “You are uneasy,” he said, shifting his feet to keep his cooling blood moving.

  O’Neill picked his pack up from the ground, dusted off the snow, and threw it over his shoulder. “You aren’t?” he said.

  “We have been in more hostile environments than this,” Teal’c said and followed O’Neill toward the small cabin.

  “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know…”

  “You are uneasy,
” Teal’c suggested, “because we face an unknown danger upon your own world.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe we just face a couple of sour-faced nerds and they piss me off.”

  Teal’c lifted an eyebrow at O’Neill’s colorful language. “Dr. Gordon did not seem overly pleased to see us.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “Dr. Gordon did not seem overly—”

  “Ha-ha,” O’Neill said, a half-smile tugging at his mouth.

  “We cannot tell him our true purpose here, therefore our intervention in his research must appear unwarranted.”

  “Doesn’t mean he has to be an ass about it.”

  “Some people,” Teal’c observed, slowing his pace as they reached the door to the wooden cabin, “are born to be ‘asses.’”

  “Teal’c,” O’Neill said, clapping him on the shoulder, “you’re a philosopher.”

  “No more than you, my friend.”

  A moment’s silence followed, then O’Neill took a breath and said, “Okay, let’s go play with the geeks,” and pushed open the door. Teal’c followed, glad at least to be out of the cold.

  Inside, however, although the air was warm, the atmosphere was icy.

  Captain Carter turned as soon as the door opened, her expression one of relief mixed with warning. O’Neill looked from her to where Daniel Jackson stood, arms folded, in the middle of the small area that appeared to be general living quarters. A television sat in one corner next to a shabby sofa, a large table half filled with papers dominated the other end of the room, while shelves containing books, and pieces of equipment Teal’c did not recognize, covered the walls.

  At the table a man with a neat white beard and longer hair of the same shade sat rocking back in his chair: Dr. Gordon. He wore glasses, narrower than those belonging to Daniel Jackson, and a supercilious expression. “…no feasible reason why the American military, of all people, should be involved,” he said, in an accent with which Teal’c was unfamiliar.

  “As I explained on the phone, Dr. Gordon,” Daniel said, “my research is funded by the Air Force and that’s why they’re here with me.” He looked over his shoulder at O’Neill. “Ah, Jack,” he said, “there you are.”

  Pushing back the hood of his coat, O’Neill deposited his pack on the floor and took a cautious step closer. “What’s going on, Daniel?”

  “Ah, Dr. Gordon is unhappy about our intervention in his dig,” Daniel Jackson said. “I’ve reassured him that we’re merely here as observers, and that Edinburgh University has sanctioned our presence…”

  “I don’t give a rat’s arse what the university sanctioned,” Dr. Gordon said, letting his chair fall forward with a thud. “I want to know why the American military is interested in my excavation.” He stabbed a finger at Daniel Jackson. “And you – whoever you are – can’t tell me.”

  “Well, he could tell you,” O’Neill said, in the casual tone he often deployed to mislead the enemy, “but then he’d have to kill you.”

  “Ouch,” Dr. Gordon said, “be careful of that sharp wit, Colonel, you might hurt yourself.”

  “Yeah,” O’Neill said. “I wasn’t joking.”

  “Are you making threats now?”

  “Look,” Daniel Jackson intervened, before O’Neill could say more, “we’re only here for a couple of days. We just want to look at your site. Once we’ve…assessed it, we’ll be gone.”

  “Assessed it?” Dr. Gordon stood up. He was tall, almost as tall as Teal’c, but old and with wasted muscle. He presented no physical threat. “What on earth qualifies you to assess my excavation?”

  “Yeah, Daniel,” O’Neill said with a deliberate lift of his eyebrows. “What on Earth qualifies you to do that?"

  Ignoring O’Neill, Daniel Jackson said, “How about doctorates in archaeology, anthropology, and philology?”

  Dr. Gordon looked somewhat unsettled. “From which universities? Or did you buy them on the internet?”

  “From UCLA and the Oriental Institute, Chicago.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’ve never heard of you. Do you publish?”

  “Okay,” O’Neill interrupted, “enough of the academic pissing contest, we need to—”

  Dr. Gordon spoke right over him. “What was your name again?”

  Daniel Jackson appeared to hesitate, as if reluctant to answer. When he did, Dr. Gordon only huffed and said, “Nope, still never heard of you.”

  “Well, that’s—“

  His words were cut off by the door opening behind Teal’c. He turned as a swirl of icy air curled into the room, reaching automatically for his weapon. His fingers closed around air, which was fortunate because the only person entering the cabin was a younger man dressed for the snow and pulling a woolen hat from his head.

  “Oh, hello,” he said to Teal’c, “you must be the Americans.”

  Fortunately, Daniel Jackson pushed his way forward before Teal’c was required to answer. “And you must be Dr. Monroe.”

  “Ed,” the other man said, extending a hand. He appeared friendlier than his colleague.

  Daniel Jackson made the introductions again, leaving himself to last.

  “Dr. Daniel Jackson?” The other man blinked for a moment, then took a step back. “Wait… oh my God, it is you.”

  “You know him?” Dr. Gordon appeared affronted and Teal’c felt a moment of pride in his friend; his reputation had preceded him.

  “You remember the lecture,” Dr. Monroe said. “The Old Kingdom and the Fourth Dynasty – how aliens built the pyramids?”

  Daniel Jackson shook his head. “That wasn’t the title, I—”

  “Oh, surely not?” Dr. Gordon said, sounding delighted. “This is him?”

  “Okay,” Daniel Jackson said, “that was a few years ago—”

  “So you recant, do you?” Dr. Gordon snorted. “Or perhaps that’s why you’re here? Oh, don’t tell me, you think aliens constructed the Kjölur long barrow too? That is, after all, the only plausible explanation for evidence of Norse settlement beneath the 871 ash layer!”

  He laughed again, as did Dr. Monroe, and Teal’c felt an immediate rise in tension within the room. At his side, Captain Carter’s jaw was set, her weight shifting subtly forward onto the balls of her feet, as if she were preparing for action. Daniel Jackson appeared embarrassed, and although Teal’c did not fully understand the situation he understood that his friend was being mocked and was unable to defend himself.

  Into the silence, O’Neill said, “So, Daniel?” He waited until Daniel Jackson’s gaze met and held his own before he said, “Aliens, huh?”

  “Just a wild speculation,” he said, but Teal’c saw the tension in his shoulders start to ease.

  “Well that’s just crazy,” O’Neill said. “Next you’ll be telling me there’re little gray men flying around up there, keeping an eye on us all.”

  A trace of a smile lit Daniel Jackson’s eyes. “I’m not that crazy.”

  “No,” O’Neill said, all humor dropped. “Remember that.”

  It was in moments such as this that O’Neill revealed his gift for leadership, a gift Teal’c had seen that first day, in the dungeons of Chulak; a gift on which he had bet his life, and the lives of his people.

  Captain Carter shifted, settling back and away from the cusp of action. Perhaps also sensing the moment between O’Neill and Daniel Jackson was over, she turned to Dr. Monroe. “Actually,” she said, drawing his attention to herself, “I’d like to take a look at the site now, before we do anything else.”

  There was a moment of unease, and Teal’c saw Dr. Monroe exchange a look across the room with his colleague. It was brief, but wary. He made a note to mention it to O’Neill.

  “That’s impossible,” Dr. Gordon said, even though no one had asked his opinion on the matter.

  Captain Carter looked at him. “Why?”

  “I’m afraid he’s right,” Dr. Monroe confirmed, nodding earnestly. But Teal’c noticed that his gaze did not quite meet Captain Carter’s, inste
ad moving restlessly around the room. “There’s weather closing in, we’ll not be back there before daylight tomorrow.”

  “Back where?” Captain Carter said. “I thought we were there – here.” She frowned. “I thought this was the dig site?”

  “And that,” Dr. Gordon said, “shows exactly how little you understand archeology, Miss.”

  She flashed him a brittle smile. “My title is Doctor Carter, sir, not ‘Miss’. However, it’s more correct for you to address me as Captain. And you’re right, Daniel’s the archeologist. My field is astrophysics.”

  “Well…” Dr. Gordon folded his arms across his chest and appeared to have nothing else to add.

  A beat of silence fell.

  Dr. Monroe cleared his throat. “Will I put the kettle on?” he said, dropping his coat onto a chair and heading for the kitchen. “I think we could all do with a cup of tea.” He offered a smile to Captain Carter. “Or coffee, if you prefer, Captain?”

  This time her smile was less brittle. “Thanks,” she said. “That would be great.”

  It turned out that the dig site was about a kilometer away from the camp, which was located on what, in the summer, was the only road that ran across the country’s highlands and between the Langjökull and Hofsjökull glaciers.

  “At this time of year,” Ed Monroe said, tapping the map with a stubby finger, “the highland roads are often closed past Hveravellir, but it’s still possible to drive down to Keflavik if you’re lucky with the weather and not in a hurry. But the only way to reach the dig site from here is on skis or by snowmobile. I prefer skis, for environmental reasons.”

  Gordon made a disdainful noise from the kitchen, which Daniel took to indicate his disapproval of ‘environmental reasons’. Douglas Gordon disapproved of many things, which came as no surprise to Daniel; his reputation as an irascible, old-world elitist had been earned honestly, and he was doing a wonderful job of living up to his image.

  “How long does it take to get there?” Jack said, slurping a mouthful of coffee.

  “Not long, in good weather and daylight.”

  “Speaking of which,” Jack said, pulling out a chair and taking a seat, “when does the sun rise around here?”