Stargate SG-1 - Permafrost

by Sally Malcolm

  “Stand down,” Teal’c said, moving out from behind his cover with his pistol aimed. “Or I will fire.”

  Just then, the shutter fell away from the window. It clattered to the floor and through the shattered glass Jack got his first look at Monroe – what Monroe had become. His face was burned and twisted and his bloody fingers scrabbled blindly at the window frame, driven by something more than sight. Behind him, the corpse from the dig howled into the night, sending a verifiable chill down Jack’s spine.

  It was them, Jack realized, something about their presence that fueled the panic he was feeling. It pressed in at the back of his skull, in competition with the pain already squeezing like a band around his head.

  Something about them was making them all crazy.

  Especially Gordon. He let out a scream, inarticulate and wild, and fired at the thing that had been his friend.

  “Teal’c!” Jack shouted. “Now!”

  Teal’c’s shot was precise, aimed at Gordon’s right leg. It felled him, but somehow he kept hold of his weapon and swung it around, opening fire on Teal’c. There was blood, Teal’c fell backward, around the corner and out of sight.

  “Carter!” Jack yelled.

  Gordon whirled at the sound of his voice and fired again. Jack ducked, heard a second shot, and when he looked up Gordon was sprawled on his back with a single shot through his head.

  He glanced over his shoulder and saw Carter lower her weapon, her expression bleak.

  “Nicely done,” he said and tried to stand up. But the world tipped sideways and if Carter hadn’t grabbed hold of him, he’d have fallen. “Damn it,” he growled. His vision was starting to gray around the edges.

  “Daniel!” Carter shouted. “Get Teal’c, get to the snowmobiles!”

  The corpse was climbing in through the kitchen window, reeking of death and panic. “We have to get out,” he said.

  “Working on it, sir. You need to stay awake. You need to walk.”

  He did, stumbling like a drunk with his arm around her shoulder and her arm tight around his waist. Behind him he heard gunfire.

  “It’s Teal’c,” Carter said. “He’s okay.”

  And then they were outside and the cold slapped him in the face. It helped, helped keep him focused and aware.

  “This way,” Carter said.

  He could see Daniel running ahead and then Teal’c was at his side. “I will assist O’Neill,” he said.

  “You’re injured,” Carter objected.

  “It is minor.”

  The roar of an engine. “That one’s ready to go,” Daniel shouted, darting over to the second machine and kicking it into life.

  “Not gonna be driving,” Jack warned as the blood started to rush in his ears. He could feel consciousness slipping away.

  Carter swore and the next thing he knew there was snow in his face and the wind was whipping the hood from his head. A huge pair of arms, one on either side of him, gripped the handlebars of the snowmobile and the engine thrummed beneath him. He tried to lift his head.

  “Do not move, O’Neill.”

  He decided that was good advice and gave way to the icy darkness.

  Chapter Eight

  In the moonlight it was bright enough to see and in other circumstances the ride to the dig would have been fun – beautiful, even, beneath a sky full of diamond stars and the snow glistening like silver.

  But Daniel was all too aware of the creatures in pursuit and of the impossible task ahead of them. He glanced back over his shoulder, felt Sam adjust her steering as his weight shifted. He figured they had an hour, maybe less, before the creatures pursuing them reached the dig.

  They started to decelerate and Daniel turned around in time to see Teal’c and Jack cut in front of them as they approached the shelter covering the long barrow. Jack at least looked conscious.

  “How is he?” Sam asked as soon as she’d killed the engine.

  “He’s fine, thanks for asking,” Jack said, although he looked decidedly unsteady as he climbed off the snowmobile. “I need to get one of these things,” he said, giving the handlebars an appreciative pat.

  “You don’t have one?” Sam sounded surprised.

  “You do?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Jack’s reply was cut short by a howl from behind them, closer than Daniel expected.

  Sam’s expression tensed. “Let’s get inside.”

  The generator was still running and lights were still on, which was a point in their favor. While Daniel closed the door – no windows here, at least – Sam and Teal’c dug out the flashlights. Jack just sat on the floor with his back to the wall and shut his eyes. He looked ghastly, in all senses of the word.

  “I’m going down there,” Sam announced, holding a flashlight.

  “I will accompany you,” said Teal’c.

  “Nope.” Jack opened an eye. “I need you and Daniel to hold the door, T. I’ll go with Carter.”

  “Sir,” Sam protested. “I think—”

  “I can hold the damn flashlight,” he said, climbing to his feet, one hand braced on the wall. “I’m no use up here.”

  No one could argue with that, least of all Sam. She just nodded and led the way down into the long barrow. Daniel watched them go until the bouncing beam of her flashlight was out of sight, then he turned back to Teal’c. “I hope this works.”

  Teal’c just lifted an eyebrow. “Indeed.”

  “I figure we’ve got forty-five minutes before Bert and Ernie show up.”

  Sam had already figured the same so she just said, “You should rest, sir.”

  He made a sound, something like a laugh, as he leaned back against the inert control panel and rested the flashlight on the floor between his knees. “Is that a polite way of telling me to shut up, Carter?”

  “It’s a polite way of telling you to rest, sir. Even thinking can hinder your recovery from a concussion.”

  “Well, you know I always leave the thinking to you.”

  “Hmm,” she said, because they both knew that wasn’t true.

  She’d already pulled all the fragments of the crystal she’d salvaged out of her vest pocket and laid them on top of the dais. Looking at them lying there, broken and inert, it was difficult not to feel angry at Dr. Gordon. “This should have been easy,” she muttered.

  A beat fell before the colonel said, “Even easier if Gordon hadn’t removed the thing in the first place. Or if he’d followed Daniel’s instructions and stayed the hell outa here. Or if the Asgard had just zapped this Norse guy three-thousand years ago, instead of leaving him here for us to dig up.”

  Sam felt the colonel’s gaze on her and looked up.

  “Lots of ‘ifs’,” he said, making his point. “None of this is your fault. You had to take the shot.”

  She shrugged, because fault was immaterial. Gordon had died by her hand and she’d have to make peace with that in the end. But not now; now she had more important things to worry about.

  Picking up a couple of the largest pieces of crystal, she slotted them together like a jigsaw puzzle. Was there a way, she wondered, of using what remained of the crystal to generate the containment field?

  “Duct tape?” the colonel suggested.

  It was enough to provoke a small smile. “I don’t think that’s going to cut it, sir.”

  “No,” he said, touching a hand to the dressing she’d taped over his wound. He was probably bleeding again but she pushed that thought out of her mind.

  Moving to the end of the dais, she inserted the longest piece of crystal into the slot, simply to see what happened. It just about bridged the gap and, to her surprise, flared with a sudden bright heat. Yanking it out before it could overload and shatter, she dropped the shard onto the dais and blew on her singed fingers. “Ow!”

  The colonel looked like he was about to get up and look so she waved him away with her good hand. “It’s okay, sir. Looks like we have power, at least.”

  “No kidding,” he s
aid, indicating the control panel he was leaning against. “This whole thing lit up like a Christmas tree.”

  Sam nodded. “Only problem is, there’s too much power for what’s left of the crystal.” She prodded at the cooling chunk on the dais. “It’ll shatter if it overloads. But if I could calibrate the power output to the size of the crystal then there’s a chance it might generate a small containment field. Obviously the size of field would be relative to the size of the remaining emitter crystal but…” She looked around the chamber, at the columns full of Asgard runes, and wondered how large the original field had been.

  “But?” the colonel prompted.

  She shrugged. “I guess we’ll see how big the field is once I get it working. But it could get cozy in here.”

  “Couple of candles,” he said, “a little mood music. It’ll be nice.”

  Sam swallowed her smile and returned her attention to the crystals. Colonel O’Neill, she’d discovered recently, was rather good at making her smile.

  “You don’t think we should keep the door closed?” Daniel said, peering over Teal’c’s shoulder and out into the night.

  “If I did,” Teal’c said, “it would be closed.”

  Fair enough, Daniel supposed. Except that it was freezing and the little heat provided by the space heater was fleeing through the half-open door faster than it was being pumped out. He sighed and bounced on his toes to keep his blood flowing. “Can you see them?”

  Teal’c’s silence was his only answer.

  “Okay, I get it. If you’d seen them, you’d have told me.”

  “I would.”

  Daniel glanced back at the opening to the long barrow, a black rectangle cut into the earth. It would be warmer down there, of course, but nevertheless it was a grave and tonight its true purpose was starker than ever before; if all went according to plan, they could all be interred inside by dawn. Buried alive. Or half-alive. Or half-dead, depending on your view of the world.

  “I wonder how Sam’s doing,” he said. “Maybe I should—”

  “Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c said. “I see them.”

  His stomach gave a lurch. “Both of them?”

  Teal’c paused before he said, “There are three figures approaching.”

  “Three?” Daniel pushed past him, opening the door wider so he could get a better look. Sure enough, there were three figures walking across the moonlit snow. They were still too far away to make out details, but Daniel recognized the limping, leg-dragging gait of Monroe. A taller figure, maybe the ancient Norseman, staggered along behind, but who was that striding out ahead?

  There was only one possibility. “It’s Gordon.”

  With a thump, Teal’c closed the door. “Matters are worse.”

  “Yeah.” Daniel glanced around the shed, his eyes falling on the generator. “Let’s use this to barricade the door.”

  Teal’c nodded, but said, “It will not hold them long.”

  “I know. But it only needs to hold them for long enough.” He toggled his radio. “Sam, this is Daniel. Company’s on the way. ETA a couple minutes.”

  A hiss of static, then, “I need ten.”

  He shared a look with Teal’c, who’d already unholstered his weapon. “We’ll do what we can,” he said and let his hand fall to his side. “Once more unto the breach, dear friend?”

  Teal’c raised an eyebrow. “On Chulak we would say: Arik tree-ac te kek. It means—”

  “No surrender, even in death.”

  “That is correct.”

  Outside Daniel could hear their enemies’ approach – the shuffling groaning sound they made, the scuffing of feet in the freezing snow. “I guess death didn’t stop these guys,” he said to Teal’c. “Why should it stop us?”

  Teal’c gave a small smile. “Spoken like a true warrior, my friend.”

  Daniel had to laugh at that, but his laugh was cut short by the first thump of a body against the door. He reached for his weapon and glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes,” he said and started counting.

  Through the pounding in his head, Jack could hear the attack begin, the noise funneling down through the narrow tunnel. No gunshots yet, but the dull reverberation of someone – something – pounding on the wooden shelter. It wouldn’t be long before they were inside; the shelter was rudimentary, definitely not as strong as the cabin.

  “Carter?” he said. She crouched next to him, studying the crystal array in the panel he was leaning against. “I don’t want to rush you, but…”

  “I know, sir.” She didn’t so much as glance at him as she spoke, her attention entirely focused on the array. “I just need to identify how the power output is regulated.”

  “Great,” he said, “but Daniel and Teal’c will be down here soon and they’re bringing guests.”

  “I know, sir.”

  There was a crash from above, a screech of wood and a shout that sounded like Daniel. “Crap,” Jack said and pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the way the world was spinning.

  “Sir?”

  He waved away her concern. “Just get that thing working, Carter.”

  He still had his gun, at least, although he wasn’t sure he trusted his aim right now. He could barely walk in a straight line, let alone fire in one.

  “Jack?” Daniel’s breathless voice came over the radio. “We’re falling back.”

  He cursed under his breath, but into the radio he only said, “Copy that, I’ll cover you.”

  Another chirp of radio static, then, “Jack, there’s three of them. Gordon’s been infected too.”

  Carter looked up. “But he was dead.”

  “They’re all dead, Carter.”

  She shook her head. “No. I mean he was dead before he was infected. The infection didn’t kill him – I did.”

  Jack just looked at her. Maybe it was the fog in his head, but he wasn’t following her logic. “And the difference is?”

  She scrubbed fingers through her hair and thought for a moment. “Daniel saw the back of Monroe’s head; he said it was caved in, like it’d been smashed.” Her gaze darted to his own head wound. “Maybe that’s how this thing works,” she said. “Maybe it uses corpses as hosts, and when it can’t find any it makes its own.”

  Jack repressed a shudder at the thought of being next in line, that he might have become one of those shambling creatures – might have hurt his people. “That’s just supposition, Carter.”

  “Yes sir. But if I’m right, then maybe this thing can only infect the dead.”

  “So we might be okay.”

  She gave an uncertain shrug. “As long as we don’t die.”

  Jack glanced at the dark opening leading back to the surface. He could hear the fight coming closer and moved around the dais, his weapon held low and ready for use. “I wasn’t planning on letting that happen, Captain,” he said. “Now get that gizmo working so we can all go home.”

  There was no life in Gordon’s eyes, but somehow there was that same malevolent intelligence Daniel had first sensed in the body of the Norseman. Intelligence and violence. And he felt the same suffocating panic, it was radiating from Gordon like heat.

  Daniel stumbled back a step, his leaden legs difficult to move as the thing that had been Gordon lunged across the remains of the generator that still blocked the door. Teal’c fired, the impact knocking Gordon back. But not far. Not far enough to ease the terror.

  “It’s a weapon,” Daniel realized, pressing his hands to his head and forcing himself to think through the panic. “It’s how they disable victims.”

  Teal’c was at his side and spared Daniel a brief look. “You refer to the sense of unease these creatures provoke?”

  Unease? Try blind panic. But he didn’t have time to discuss it; Monroe and the Norseman were pushing through the door now, their burned and bloody faces hideous, almost unrecognizable as human. Daniel’s stomach rolled, he tasted bile.

  Then Teal’c was in front of him, standing between him and the creatures. “Retre
at,” he ordered. “We cannot hold them in a space this large, but in the passageway below they can only attack one at a time.”

  And we can only defend one at a time, Daniel thought as he climbed on shaking legs down the ladder and into the frozen earth. It felt like he was climbing into his own grave. In fact, he was.

  “Teal’c, Daniel,” Jack’s voice barked over the radio. “Report.”

  “We’re in the tunnel,” Daniel said, backing up so that Teal’c could follow. Only he didn’t. “Teal’c?” He craned his head, looking back up into the light. He could see Teal’c’s legs, braced, heard the report of his gun. Once, twice.

  “Daniel Jackson, you must retreat!”

  For a frozen moment he didn’t move, he simply stood there, strung between blind panic and duty. He took a deep breath, rasping and cold. Then another. Behind him he heard movement, saw the beam of a flashlight on the wall ahead of him. Jack. Jack was coming, wounded as he was. Sam was still fixing the device.

  And maybe that was what broke the spell. Simply knowing he had his team around him – his family – that he couldn’t give in, couldn’t let them down.

  “Daniel Jackson!” Teal’c yelled again. “Go.”

  He shook his head, even though no one could see it. “No,” he said beneath his breath. Then louder, “No.”

  He darted halfway up the ladder, braced his arms against the ground to steady his aim. He could see the things prowling around Teal’c, keeping their distance. Gordon’s face was streaming blood, but the gunshot wounds didn’t stop him any more than they stopped the others. It only ever slowed them down.

  “Teal’c,” he said, just loud enough to be heard, “you take Gordon and Monroe, I’ll take the corpse. Then we both retreat.”

  “That is not a wise strategy.”

  “Maybe not,” Daniel said. “But we retreat together or we both stay here. Your choice.”

  Teal’c muttered a curse that he probably thought Daniel couldn’t translate. Then he said, “Very well. On the count of three. One, two—”

  Daniel fired, so did Teal’c. The creatures howled and Daniel half-slid, half-fell down the ladder and stumbled back to make room for Teal’c. “Now, come on!”