They would have to hurry, Teal’c thought, glancing at the sky. Light would come quickly as the day rose. Luckily, though, Danyel knew the ground, and brought them safely around the roadblock. Looking back, Teal’c could see them, blind to everything outside their circle of artificial light, searching each group of travelers. They came back up onto the road just behind one such group, and Carter let out a long sigh.
“OK. Now where?”
“Back to the house,” Danyel said. “With any luck, the others are there ahead of us.”
“Indeed,” Teal’c said, and hoped it would be true.
Troops had been filtering in throughout the night and into the false dawn, veterans of the first rebellion as well as more than a few of Jack’s new recruits. Priests and scribes arrived as well, and a handful of the palace women. The Queen Mother sent the women with children and the older men south to estates still held by loyalists, refugees who would also serve as messengers and seeds of this new revolt. The palace cook had arrived, too, and took up residence in the kitchen wing, commandeering women and servants and the household stores. That was a load off Sam’s mind, though her supplies wouldn’t last long even with everyone reduced to soldiers’ commons. Either they would have to rescue Pharaoh and find a way to drive Ra out, or they would need to be resupplied, and she was betting on the latter. That had been the hardest part of the first rebellion, too, keeping everyone fed and armed while Ra had control of the harvest. It wouldn’t be as bad this time, she told herself, and crossed the courtyard to the house.
The Queen Mother was still holding court in the main room, a cup of beer at her side and a scribe at her feet. One of the palace women stood ready to do her bidding while two more slept on a pallet in the corner, their backs turned to the flaring lamps. Sam had sent Tamit to bed with Ellie a while ago, intending to snatch a few hours’ sleep herself before the baby woke to nurse, but so far she hadn’t found the time.
Nithotep gave her last orders to a middle-aged priest, who bowed and backed away, then beckoned for Sam to take the cushion at her feet.
“There is no news as yet from the palace, Sa-Mantha.”
“No news is good news,” Sam said, and Nithotep cocked her head. “A saying. Of my people.” She wondered if she’d actually managed to say what she meant, or if the meaning had drifted off the way it sometimes did. Especially when she was so tired.
“A just one,” Nithotep said, gravely. She looked at Sam, and her face softened. “And you should rest, Sa-Mantha.”
“And so should you, Lady,” the waiting woman said. “I beg you, let us put you to bed, just for a little.”
Nithotep shook her head. “I will wait a little longer. There is still much to be done.”
And still a chance that they would hear something from the palace, Sam knew. Nithotep was waiting not just for news of Pharaoh, but for news of her son, of her surviving family. “I’ll wait a little longer too,” she said, and the Queen Mother smiled again.
“Then we will wait together.”
“Lady.” The voice from the doorway was soft but distinct. “The Royal Architect is here.”
Nithotep turned her head slowly, and Sethnakht came to kneel at her feet. For the first time, Sam could see how tired the Queen Mother was, and how afraid.
“What news?” Her voice was utterly controlled, however, and Sethnakht lowered his head even further.
“Great Lady, as I left the palace, I saw the Jaffa in an uproar, recalled to the palace and then to the pyramid.”
An hour ago, Sam thought. In another hour, maybe two, they would know if the plans had succeeded. She met the Queen Mother’s eyes, and Nithotep smiled.
“May the word be good,” she said.
Chapter Eighteen
The Jaffa were swarming on the lower levels of the mothership. Jack froze again, halfway down yet another narrow flight of stairs, and flattened himself against the wall. The others did the same, and below them a troop of half a dozen Jaffa stomped past. Even after they were out of sight, Jack waited, and, sure enough, heard still more heavy footsteps approaching. He waved the others back, followed them as quietly as he could manage, and stopped at the top of the stairs to meet Vala’s eye.
“I don’t think we’re getting out this way, either.”
“All right,” she said, though he thought her good humor was starting to wear a bit thin. “Let’s see, this would be —”
“Plan Z,” Jack said. “How about a way off the ship that doesn’t involve going through a small army of Jaffa?”
“We might be able to use the rings,” Vala said, but she sounded doubtful.
“So far, the platforms have all been guarded,” Jack said. “We could probably take them out, but —”
Carolyn cleared her throat. “What about the puddle jumper? The one we came in?”
“You know where it is?” Jack asked. That was sounding a bit more promising.
“If she doesn’t, I do,” Leymac said.
“I do,” Carolyn said, and glared at the Tok’ra.
“Can I fly the jumper out of wherever it is?” Jack squinted, considering the options. Get into the jumper, and he could set the cloak, put up the shields, and they’d be pretty much invulnerable. He liked that idea quite a bit.
Carolyn considered the question. “Yes,” she said at last. “It’s some kind of docking bay, not a regular glider bay, though.”
“It looked like a maintenance bay,” Leymac said. “The hanger door was large enough to take the jumper and the two gliders that had it in tow.”
“How’d you manage to let him catch you?” Jack demanded. “A puddle jumper can outfly anything Ra has in his arsenal.”
“That may be,” Carolyn retorted. “But I’m a doctor, remember? Not a pilot.”
“If you’d done what Marik told you,” Leymac began, and Carolyn turned on him.
“I repeat. I’m not a pilot. And why the hell should I do what a kidnapper tells me?”
“Because it’s better than being captured by Ra,” Leymac snapped.
“OK, kids, that’s enough,” Jack said, and they subsided, Carolyn flushing to the roots of her hair.
“This has promise,” Vala said. “Lead the way.”
Carolyn threaded her way through the ha’tak’s corridors with only a couple of wrong turns. The corridors were mostly clear of Jaffa now, presumably ordered away to deal with Carter’s diversion, but Jack kept his staff weapon ready just in case.
The hanger was nearly deserted, only a couple of technicians bent over a device attached to the puddle jumper. Beyond them, Jack could easily make out the edges of the hanger door — plenty of clearance — and then the panel that controlled it. “All right,” he said softly. “Dr. Lam, Leymac, fan out — take cover behind those consoles there. Once you’re in position, Vala and I will take out the technicians. Then Dr. Lam and I will get the puddle jumper operational, and Vala and Leymac will get the hanger door open.” He looked at Vala. “You do know how to do that, right?”
She nodded, with a bright smile that he didn’t find very reassuring.
“OK, move out.”
Carolyn and the Tok’ra moved off, keeping low, and Jack frowned at the technicians.
“I just hope to hell they haven’t started dismantling things,” he said, and Vala shook her head.
“They don’t know how.”
“I hope you’re right,” Jack muttered.
“I am.” Vala looked around. “Does this remind you of a movie?”
“What?”
“The one that Colonel Mitchell likes so much. And Colonel Sheppard — Star Wars.”
“Star Wars?” Jack said. He was not going to go there, not on a bet.
“Mm.” Vala nodded. “Daniel doesn’t like them.”
“Try him with Indiana Jones,” Jack said, before he could stop himself, and she smiled brightly.
“Oh, an excellent idea! I’ll do that.”
First Carolyn and then Leymac had made it to cover. Jack looked
at Vala. “Ready?”
“Ready,” she answered, and they fired almost simultaneously. The technicians dropped without a sound, and Jack started for the jumper at a dead run. Carolyn caught up to him a moment later, and the jumper’s systems came on around them as they stepped through the open rear hatch.
Jack slid into the pilot’s chair, running his hands over the controls. “Get those cables unhooked,” he said over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about finesse, just get us loose.”
“OK,” Carolyn said, and he heard the snap and slither of cable as she obeyed.
Through the windscreen, he could see Vala and the Tok’ra at the door controls, but he made himself focus on the jumper’s systems. Think at it, they’d told him, and he frowned at the board, telling it to show him its status. The controls lit, and then a heads-up display, tracing lines across the windscreen. Power, damage, screens, cloak, weapons, all at least functional, all ready to go, and he set his hands on the controls.
“How’re you doing back there, Doc?”
“Almost — there, that’s the last one.”
Jack risked a glance over his shoulder, saw Carolyn kick a last thick cable off the end of the ramp. “Take second seat,” he said.
There was a rumble from outside, and the hanger door began to move, three triangular pieces drawing away from each other. An alarm began to sound, and he could see Vala doing something to the controls. Carolyn tumbled into place beside him, and he told the jumper to rise. It lifted, sluggish at first, the ramp not quite dragging on the hanger floor, and he brought it down again at the end of the hanger to let Vala and Leymac scramble aboard.
“Hurry,” Vala called. “They’re going to override from the pel’tac.”
Sure enough, the triple doors were starting to slide back the other way. Carolyn did something that brought the ramp up into place, and Jack aimed the jumper at the rapidly narrowing gap. He could see exactly what it needed to do, but couldn’t find the right controls. “Crap —”
The jumper shimmied, tilted sideways, so that it would have been standing on its wing tips if it had had them, and slid through the gap just before it closed too far. Invisible, Jack thought, go invisible, and a light flared on the board. The cloak was on, the shields were up, and they’d be back at the house in minutes.
“What did I tell you?” Vala exclaimed. “Just like those movies.”
Cam settled himself on the cushion that was currently serving as a chair, very glad that he’d managed to snatch a couple hours’ sleep and reclaim his pants. How the Egyptian men managed to sit like this without showing off everything they had was still a mystery to him. Daniel managed it, of course, though from Jackson’s expression, he was glad to be back in uniform, too. A servant appeared with a cup of beer, and Cam took it with a smile of thanks. So far, so good. Hor-Aha was safe, even if Ra still had the royal family prisoner somewhere, and Carter and Teal’c and Danyel had made it safely back from the pyramid. They’d managed to rescue O’Neill, too, and he and Vala were presumably rescuing Dr. Lam, which was better luck than Cam had been expecting. They should be on their way back by now, assuming that they’d managed to get out of the pyramid about the same time as Carter and Teal’c, and he glanced toward the door again. Daniel gave him a look as though he wanted to kick him under the table if there had only been a table, and Carter stifled a yawn. The Queen Mother had gone to bed — taking over the best bedroom, Cam noticed — but Hor-Aha was awake, still listening to his men’s reports, his expression unreadable. Daniel translated in an undertone, but it was hot in the house, and Cam fought to stay awake.
After a while, one of the men brought around bowls of stew — lentils, Cam thought, poking curiously with his spoon. But it was hot and savory, and he was almost surprised to find his bowl empty. He mopped up the last traces with his share of the round of bread, and hoped the calories would give him a little extra energy. They all needed sleep, more sleep than the few hours snatched on their return, but nobody was willing to go to bed until everyone was back.
Daniel caught his eye, came quietly to sit beside him. “The latest word from the palace,” he said. “Ra’s man are swarming like a kicked anthill, and there’s no sign that Vala or O’Neill have been captured.”
“That’s good news,” Cam said. He eased his back, wishing he could have a real chair, but the only chair belonged to Hor-Aha. Cam understood the principle perfectly well — no one stands taller than the king — but his back was definitely a democrat. Much longer in this position, and it would be an anarchist.
“Look, if you want to take a break —” Daniel paused. “I mean, it wouldn’t be a problem, wouldn’t offend anybody, or anything like that.”
Cam’s instinct was to refuse — never admit to weakness — but he had learned better, and besides, this was Daniel. Daniel could be pretty tactful about dealing with other people’s weaknesses. He nodded. “I’ll just be in the courtyard,” he said, and hauled himself to his feet.
It was later than he’d realized, well into the afternoon, and already smoke was starting to rise again from the kitchen. Somehow Sam was providing for all of them, though he guessed she was burning through supplies meant to last for months. He made a slow circuit of the courtyard, working the kinks out of back and legs, and at last the pain settled to a dull ache. His right hip, the one with two pins in it, was stiff as hell, but at least it wasn’t going to give out on him. He supposed he should go back in, but couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for the idea. As he finished another round, he saw that Carter had come out as well, and stood squinting in the lowering sun.
She shaded her eyes at his approach, and shook her head. “I wouldn’t go back in. Daniel’s arguing with himself, and it’s getting a little personal.”
“The Pharaoh’s handling this pretty well,” Cam said. “All the weird, I mean.”
“He’s had time to get used to the idea,” Carter said. “Multiples of us, anyway.”
“Guess so,” Cam said. He glanced toward the gate and the empty road that led toward the palace complex.
“Vala will manage,” Carter said. Cam thought she might be trying to convince herself.
“Yeah, she’s good. Sneaky.”
“Sneaky’s definitely an advantage here,” Carter said, and Cam nodded.
Something moved in the air above the gate, a pinpoint shape that was nothing like a bird. An airplane, except there weren’t, couldn’t be, any here, and his heart kicked in his chest as he squinted into the sun, searching for the distinctive downswept wings of a Goa’uld glider. But, no, there weren’t any wings at all, just an odd, boxy, distinctly unaerodynamic shape.
“The puddle jumper?” Carter said.
“It looks like it.” Cam could see it clearly now, the squared-off shape with both drive pods extended. Carter was grinning like an idiot, and Cam doubted he looked any more restrained.
“Nice job, Vala,” he said, and ducked back into the house. “Daniel!” He hadn’t kept his voice down, and Hor-Aha gave him a sharp look. “The puddle jumper’s in sight. Looks like our guys made it out.”
Hor-Aha said something, and Danyel shook his head, answering. The Pharaoh’s face relaxed a little, and he tapped Danyel on the shoulder. Telling him to go ahead, Cam thought, the gesture the same in any language. Sam was already on the move, brushed past him without a word, and the two Daniels followed. Cam went after them, Teal’c at his shoulder.
The puddle jumper slowed, circling, while the Egyptians in the courtyard pointed and stared. Cam would have expected more fear, but of course they’d seen the puddle jumper before. A couple of the older men were slapping each other on the back, and Cam picked out O’Neill’s name among the unfamiliar words. Another man with the gold armbands of an officer had the smug expression of a man who’d just won a hefty wager. Never bet against O’Neill, Cam thought. Any of them.
The puddle jumper swung around again, dropping lower, and there was a rush to clear the courtyard as it settled slowly between the walls. It landed ge
ntly, to a storm of cheers, and the rear hatch lowered. Figures emerged, Vala first, then a nervous-looking Tok’ra and Carolyn Lam holding a zat on him, and finally O’Neill, looking tough and tired and unbeatable. O’Neill’s men raised another cheer and he lifted his hand in answer. Hor-Aha came to meet him, the crowd parting before him, and he and O’Neill clasped hands, O’Neill saying something that made Hor-Aha smile slightly.
And then it was back to the main room for another briefing, the air hot and smelling of too many bodies. Hor-Aha made a speech, running down the score, and Daniel translated softly: the prisoners had been rescued, thanks to the strangers from the chappa’ai, and there was a core of resistance both here and at the palace. But the royal family was still held, and that would need to be dealt with before they could attack Ra directly. If they could attack Ra directly, or if they needed some other plan.
O’Neill nodded. “I think we need to get the queen out of there first, and the kids. But I know I’m going to need some sleep before I can think straight.” He’d spoken in English, Danyel translating, and Hor-Aha gave a wry smile.
“He says he knows Ra won’t harm his family while he thinks they can be used as hostages,” Daniel translated. “And he, too, needs to eat and sleep. But in the morning, we’d better have a clever plan.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ra had given them the Queen Mother’s rooms, the second best, as befitted the only other Goa’uld in the palace. Teal’c searched carefully once their escort had left, and was sure there were no surveillance devices hidden in the room. Even so, they stood close, and kept their voices down.
“Do you think they have had enough time to get away?” Egeria asked softly.
Teal’c considered. The Jaffa were definitely on alert, teams forming to sweep the area, others called to the pyramid, and he nodded. “I believe so.”
“Then we must report that our servants are missing,” she said.
Teal’c nodded again. This was the tricky part of the plan, but it was the only way they could hope to stay in Ra’s favor. Egeria took a deep breath, and moved to the door.
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