“Daniel, now,” Sam hissed.
He flung the gas, Sam fired, and Monroe was wrapped in flames, thrashing and screaming.
Teal’c staggered toward them, exhausted, and Daniel ran to help. Between them, they hauled Jack upright and half ran the few yards back to the cabin. Gordon stood with the door wide, waiting for them, and Sam fell back to cover their retreat.
But the flames were already extinguished and in the silver darkness Daniel could see the creatures stirring. The night was far from over.
Chapter Seven
They lay the colonel on the sofa, milk-faced in the fluorescent lighting of the cabin. There was a gash on the side of his head, and swelling. Sam bit back a curse and felt for the pulse in his neck.
“They’re getting up,” Daniel said, from where he stood at the window peering out into the night.
“How’s that possible?” Gordon asked. “I saw them burn. How could they survive that?”
“Because they’re not human anymore,” Sam said, glancing up from the colonel. Gordon’s face was bloodless, but at least he was functioning. “The bodies are just hosts to whatever has infected them.”
He didn’t answer that, his gaze dipping to the colonel. “We have some medical supplies,” he offered.
Beneath her fingers, the colonel’s pulse was fast and thready. “Thanks,” she said, “but what he needs is a doctor.”
“Ironic,” Daniel said. “There are three doctors in here and none of us any use.”
Sam almost smiled, but the sight of the colonel so helpless was profoundly disturbing and she found that she couldn’t.
“Yep,” Daniel continued after a moment, “it looks like they’re communicating somehow. They’re just standing there together.”
“We must prepare for an assault,” Teal’c said. “We must barricade the door and windows.”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “See what you can find, Teal’c. Dr. Gordon –show him anything that might be of use. A hammer, nails. Anything.”
“I’ll go with them,” Daniel said.
“No. Stay at the window. Keep those things in sight until—” Her hand was still on the colonel’s shoulder, so she felt him stir and looked down to see him blinking in the harsh overhead light. “Colonel?”
He grimaced, made a clumsy attempt to shield his eyes.
“The light’s too bright,” Sam realized. A moment later, Daniel had switched it off and only the low light of a desk lamp lit the room.
She gave the colonel’s face a gentle tap and he opened his eyes, face crunching into a scowl. He probably had the mother of all headaches. “Carter?”
“Yes sir.” She felt a huge surge of relief; at least he knew who she was. “You took a blow to the head.”
He lifted a hand, fingers fumbling over the dressing Teal’c had administered. “Ow,” he said, managing to sound affronted.
“Sir, do you remember what happened?”
“Something hit me.” That made her laugh a little, but it sounded more like tightly wound anxiety than amusement so she bit down on it hard.
And maybe the colonel saw that, or maybe he was remembering, because his frown deepened and he said, “We heard gunshots.”
“We’re okay, sir.”
“Teal’c and Daniel?”
“Right here,” Daniel said from the window. “Teal’c’s barricading the door.”
“Against what?” He tried to sit up but Sam pressed a hand to his chest, holding him in place.
“Stay there,” she warned. “You’re concussed.”
He laid back and pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead. “Against what?” he repeated. “Gou’uld?”
“We don’t know what they are,” Daniel said. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “The body from the long barrow? It’s animate, somehow.”
“Animate?”
“That’s what attacked you, sir,” Carter said, shifting where she crouched at the colonel’s side. “It’s what Daniel saw last night, at the window.”
“And whatever’s animated the corpse,” Daniel added, “also infected Monroe.” He nodded toward the window. “They’re both out there.”
The colonel’s mouth worked, like he was struggling to find the words. He probably was, she realized; who knew what damage a blow like that could have caused? “Us?” he said at last, looking to Sam for the answer. “Are we infected?”
But she had no answer to give. “I don’t know, sir. Maybe.”
He closed his eyes again and Sam was torn between keeping him awake and letting him rest, but after a moment he held out his hand and said, “Tylenol.”
She sat back on her heels and frowned. “Sir...” Over the past couple of years she’d learned to put a great deal of meaning into that one, simple word. Right now it meant I know what you’re thinking, but there’s no way you’re getting up off that sofa.
The colonel turned his head – she could see the waves of pain the movement caused flash across his face – and said, “Tylenol, Captain. Now.”
She bristled at the order, but she couldn’t refuse it. “Yes sir,” she said, and didn’t care that her tone bordered on insubordination; if any one of his team had suffered a head wound like this, he’d have ordered them to stay on the damn sofa. Irritably, she reached into her med kit for the Tylenol. “You’ll have to sit up to swallow them,” she said pointedly, because she knew exactly how much fun that would be.
The colonel’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t protest as he pushed himself upright. His stomach, however, did – just as she’d guessed it would. Luckily she was prepared and shoved a bowl into his hands just in time. After he’d thrown up, he swilled a mouthful of water around his mouth, spat it out, and then held out a defiant hand for the Tylenol.
Sam just shook her head, unsure whether his mulishness was admirable or foolish. Both, probably. “You have a severe concussion,” she warned him as she handed over the pills. “You should rest.”
“Sure,” he said with a pasty smile. “Later.”
“You’re risking permanent brain damage, sir.”
“It’s okay,” he said, swallowing the pills. “No one will notice.”
Tight lipped, she reached into her med kit and pulled out a syringe. “At least let me give you a Phenergan shot,” she said. “For the nausea.”
“Nice try, Carter.” He half smiled because, obviously, he knew it was also a sedative. “How about you give me a sitrep instead?”
With a sigh she had to admit defeat, dropped the Phenergan back into her medkit, and gave him the report he wanted. It didn’t take long to fill him in on what she knew – which wasn’t a great deal – and he listened with his eyes closed, head resting on the back of the sofa. He was still, pasty looking, and she wondered if he was listening or whether his injury was getting the better of him. But as soon as she stopped talking he said, “So it’s an infection, then? Some kind of disease?”
“I think so,” she said.
Outside a sudden, unnatural howling rose up. “They’re coming closer,” Daniel said, his face pressed to the window. “They’re heading for the cabin.”
“Crap,” the colonel said, and reached for his weapon.
“I gave your gun to Teal’c,” she told him.
He didn’t comment on that, just said, “What’s plan B, Carter?”
“I figure there’ll be a chopper out from Keflavik later today, sir,” she said. “General Hammond would have alerted them when we didn’t check in yesterday and the weather’s clear enough now that they can fly.”
“Problem is,” Daniel said, “we can’t let them land.”
“Not if we’re infected,” the colonel agreed.
With a frustrated sigh, Sam got to her feet. “Which we won’t know for sure until we can get a blood sample back to the SGC.”
The colonel lifted a hand, gestured toward her. “That’s not your blood, right?”
She touched her face. “What? Oh. No, it’s…” She grimaced at the thought. “It’s pr
obably Monroe’s.”
“Can you use it?” the colonel said. “Test it, somehow?”
“Me? I could try, sir,” she said, although she wasn’t confident. “There’s a basic optical microscope in the lab, but I don’t know if it’ll be anywhere near powerful enough. And as far as labs go, it’s pretty basic. They don’t even have a centrifuge, so I couldn’t fractionate the blood. Plus, I don’t have any idea what to look for.” She sighed. “We really need Dr. Fraiser.”
“We don’t need Fraiser,” the colonel said. “We’ve got you. Now go figure out what this is, Captain.”
For a moment she just looked at him, considering what he was asking. He always had so much faith in her, but this time he was literally asking the impossible. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said at last, “but I can’t do it.”
“Carter—”
“With all due respect, Colonel, what you’re asking isn’t possible. I don’t have the equipment or the expertise.”
His eyebrows rose. “Then improvise. It’s what you do best.”
“Actually,” she said, “there may be an alternative.” She threw a glance at Daniel to see if he’d agreed. “We don’t actually need to know what this is because we already know how to contain it.”
“Carter,” the colonel sighed, “I have the mother of all headaches. Don’t be cryptic.”
“Sorry sir. I mean the Asgard device in the long barrow. Whatever this is, they designed that device to contain it. Right, Daniel?”
“Um, yes,” he said. “That’s certainly what the Asgard narrative implies. Frejya – the goddess – bound the draugr in its grave to keep it from plaguing the village of Helgatofta.”
“So,” Sam said, “all we need to do is get the device working again.” She hesitated, thinking it through. “And, of course, we need to lure both Monroe and the Norse corpse down into the long barrow...”
“Oh,” the colonel said, “is that all?”
Sam smiled at his wry tone. “Sir, trust me, I stand a better chance of fixing the Asgard device than I do of figuring out how to cure this thing.”
“But what about the missing component? Don’t tell me you have a spare in your back pocket.”
Sam shook her head and glanced over the colonel’s shoulder toward the archeologists’ lab. “But I think we both know where it is.”
Daniel turned away from the window, his face somber in the lamplight. “Uh, Sam?” he said. “I hate to say it, but if we’re infected too...?”
The question hung in the silence between them for several heartbeats. Then the colonel said, “We quarantine ourselves as well. At least the SGC will know where to find us when Fraiser comes up with a cure.”
Sam quailed at the thought of trapping themselves inside the long barrow with Monroe and the ancient corpse, but she knew they had no choice. And, despite the colonel’s optimism, she couldn’t help but wonder why, if this contagion could be cured, the Asgard hadn’t cured it three thousand years ago.
“Okay,” Daniel said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together briskly. “So who volunteers to tell Dr. Gordon the plan?”
“Absolutely not! Are you insane? Going back there is suicide. You might as well shoot me in the head and be done with it.”
“That can be arranged,” Jack growled. The pain in his head was intense, and his patience – what he had of it – was paper thin. It didn’t help that Carter had been watching him with sharp, disapproving eyes since he’s levered himself onto his feet.
“Look,” Daniel said, hands raised as if he were talking to one of the truculent locals they usually dealt with. Which, Jack supposed, was exactly what he was doing. “I know you’re frightened, we all are, but this is our best chance of ending this. Just tell me if you have the crystal.”
Gordon had retreated to the rear of the laboratory and stood with his back to the bench, arms folded across his chest. “Our best chance of surviving this is to stay here and wait for rescue.”
Daniel shook his head. “We can’t do that; we can’t risk spreading the infection.”
“Is that what this is, then? A disease?” Gordon’s eyes narrowed his panic receding for a moment. “Did you bring this here? Is this some kind of CIA experiment gone wrong?”
Jack glanced at Carter. CIA? Where had that come from?
She gave a shrug. “It’s not a conspiracy,” she told Gordon. “We told you the truth. And we need you to do the same. If you have that crystal, then there’s a good chance I can get the device in the long barrow working again.”
“If you think I believe that alien nonsense, then you’ve got another thing coming,” he said, but as he spoke his gaze darted sideways toward his desk drawer.
“Look,” Jack said, “I don’t really care what you believe. But you are going to tell us what you’ve done with the damn crystal. That’s not a request, it’s an order.”
“You can’t give me orders.” But again his gaze moved to his desk, and this time so did Carter.
“Hey!” Gordon spluttered, darting forward as Carter pulled opened the drawer and started rummaging. “Stop that! How dare you—”
Jack put himself between Carter and the archeologist, a hand on his chest. “Uh-uh. Stay there.”
“Don’t you touch me. Don’ t you—”
A sudden thump against the back wall made them all jump. Gordon’s pallid skin turned ashen. “See?” he said. “You see what’s out there?”
Another thump, this one close to the window behind Gordon. He turned, panicked. “Oh God,” he hissed, “they’re trying to get in.”
Jack felt a squirming sense of panic in the pit of his stomach. He was used to fear, used to adrenalin, but this was different. This felt alien, other – imposed on him. He reached for his weapon, but it wasn’t there. “Damn it,” he hissed.
“O’Neill,” said Teal’c, and held his gun out to him.
Jack took it with relief, but the weight of it in his hand only settled his panic by a fraction. He chambered a round and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment against the thundering pain in his head. He felt nauseous. He felt like a liability.
“Got it!” Carter’s exclamation hit like a bolt of relief. He glanced over his shoulder, saw a baseball sized crystal in her hand, glittering under the strip lighting, and in that split second of relief Gordon pushed past him and made a lunge for the crystal.
“Give it to me!” he cried.
Jack tried to shoulder him out of the way, but his reactions were impaired, he was too slow, and he ended up pushing Gordon into Carter. Gordon’s flailing arm knocked the crystal right out of her hand and, in a horrible suspended moment that was still too fast to stop, he watched the crystal sail through the air and shatter on the floor.
“You idiot!” Carter shoved Gordon back so hard he fell on his ass. Then she was on her knees, picking up the crystal shards and shoving them into her vest.
Outside, the hammering was becoming louder, more insistent. Jack felt as if it was inside his skull, each thump resonating through his head. He squeezed his eyes shut; it didn’t help.
“Carter,” he said, backing away a step.
She scrambled to her feet at his side. “I got most of it, sir, there might me a way to—”
“Carter,” he said again, because his vision was starting to blur. “Your orders are to get everyone – including me – into the long barrow and to activate the device. Contact the SGC if you can and initiate Protocol 303.”
Carter’s face remained as shuttered as the windows, tight lipped with worry. “Sir?”
“Head injury,” he said, by way of explanation.
Her answering nod was curt. “Just stay on your feet until we get there, sir.”
Glass shattered, scattering out from behind the shutter with a howl of wind and blast of icy air. Gordon screamed, stumbled back.
“We’re going,” Carter barked. “Get to the door.”
“NO!” Gordon whirled on them, stark panic in his eyes. “I won’t go out there again!”
Jack felt his vision slur, double, return to normal. He staggered sideways and that’s when Gordon grabbed for his weapon. Jack swung for him, but he was dizzy and it went wide and cost him his balance. He fell and felt the gun slip from his fingers.
“Jack!” Daniel was at his side, holding him up, and when he opened his eyes he saw Gordon holding his weapon, aiming it with shaking hands at Carter. Her gun was raised too, steady as a rock, and aimed right back at him.
“Okay,” Daniel said. “Just take it easy.”
He stood up with care, leaving Jack slumped on the floor, concentrating on not throwing up again. He could feel icy air on his face, on his hands, sinking to the floor as it crept in past the broken window. The scrabble of bony fingers on the shutters made his skin crawl with that strange and alien panic.
“I won’t go out there,” Gordon said. “I won’t do it.”
“Okay,” Daniel said. “I understand. You’re frightened.”
Jack looked up, managed to focus on Teal’c who stood to Gordon’s left. Teal’c’s brief answering nod told Jack that he already knew what to do.
“The thing is,” Daniel said, keeping up his unwitting distraction, “we need to consider all the options—”
Teal’c moved, lunging for the weapon Gordon was holding. But pumped on adrenaline and terror, Gordon was faster than he looked. Wrenching the gun out of the way, he fired. The shot went high, up into the ceiling, sending everyone diving for cover.
Gordon backed away another step. “Get away from me!” he yelled. “Don’t come near me.”
“Dr. Gordon,” Daniel said. “This isn’t the way to—”
Turning wildly, he fired again and only missed Daniel by a fraction. “I won’t go out there!”
Outside the creatures were howling, clawing at the window. Jack could see their fingers working loose the shutters. He had to get his people out. He had to get them out now.
If he’d had a weapon, he’d have taken the shot himself, but he could see Teal’c on the far side of Gordon. He’d taken cover around the corner leading back to the living area. Jack gave the signal to fire.
Stargate SG-1 - Permafrost Page 9