“It’s the ‘and now Ra leaves’ part that I have doubts about,” Daniel said.
“The main thing is to figure out how to make sure Ra doesn’t take the Stargate,” Carter said.
“Well, how’d they do it the last time?” Mitchell asked, after a moment.
“I don’t think it was a problem,” Carter said, and looked at Daniel. “Was it?”
“I’ve been talking to Daniel,” Vala said. “The other Daniel, the mostly naked Daniel. He told me that they had the advantage of surprise. Ra panicked and fled, and they buried the Stargate behind him. He thought it simply wasn’t worth Ra’s time to come back, not now that he has other sources of human slaves seeded throughout the galaxy.”
“I didn’t think ‘mostly naked Daniel’ was speaking to you,” Daniel said.
Vala smiled. “He changed his mind.”
“You are not going to make me jealous of myself,” Daniel said.
Mitchell cleared his throat. “So is there any reason to think that Ra won’t react the same way this time?”
“I believe he has more at stake,” Teal’c said. “From his perspective, he has been attacked. The Tau’ri invaded Abydos and stole a prim’tah. If he is to maintain his standing, and the loyalty of his Jaffa, he must punish them.”
“So he’s not going without a fight,” Mitchell said.
“I do not believe so.” Teal’c’s expression was impassive.
“Great.” Mitchell let his head fall back against the mud brick wall.
Carter reached for her water bottle and took a careful swallow. The biggest technical problem was to make sure that Ra couldn’t take the Stargate with him, and that meant finding enough power somewhere to counteract the mothership’s lifting beams. Maybe the time travel device — it had to use enormous power — though she didn’t really like the idea of messing with one of Janus’s devices. Maybe the gate itself? If she could figure out a way to tap the wormhole… Yes, if the wormhole could be tapped, she could increase the power in the jumper’s inertial dampeners exponentially, use the jumper itself as an anchor. “I need to talk to Sam,” she said, and the rest of the team gave her a startled look. “I have an idea.”
“Save it for later.” The voice was so like their own Jack’s that she automatically pulled herself to something closer to attention. O’Neill stood at the corner of the building, incongruous in his linen shorts and heavy gold necklace. “We’ve got another problem.”
The main room was even more crowded than the last time Pharaoh had held court, and it smelled strongly of sweat and garlic. Jack left them wedged into a corner by the door, and elbowed his way toward Hor-Aha, who sat in the center of the room, listening to a young man with a shaved head.
“A scribe or a priest,” Daniel said, almost to himself. “A message from the palace?” He broke off, said something in Egyptian to the nearest gold-braceleted officer, and grimaced at the answer.
Mitchell prodded him. “What?”
“I’m not —”
“Share with the rest of the class, Jackson.”
Daniel gave him a look. “Ra is preparing an assault. He knows where we are.”
“That’s not good,” Carter said, and saw the same knowledge on the others’ faces. Hor-Aha had maybe two hundred men, crack troops by his standards, but the Jaffa would cut them to pieces in a pitched battle. A guerilla campaign would stand more chance of success, but still — the odds were daunting.
Hor-Aha rose to his feet, and the room quieted, all eyes turning to him. He looked ordinary, Carter thought, just another skinny sun-browned guy with eyeliner and a heavy wig. She could see the sweat on his chest, and the worry lines bracketing his mouth. It was his father who defeated Ra the first time, not him. She hoped Jack was right, and he was up to the job.
The Pharaoh said something, and Daniel tipped his head to one side, began translating in a weary whisper.
“My people, there is word from the palace that Ra intends to attack within days. We’re sending away the women and children, under the queen’s command — his wife, not the queen mother — and keeping only those men of fighting age. They will defend our person and my house — this house — while our commander O’Neill once again faces Ra directly, with the weapons of the Ancients at his command. And together we will drive the false gods from the face of this world.”
There was a cheer in answer, but Sam caught the same worried speculation in the Egyptians’ eyes. This plan of Jack’s was a huge gamble, there was no denying that. And if they couldn’t pull it off, Hor-Aha’s men had almost no chance of defeating the Goa’uld.
Hor-Aha lifted his hands again, and the room quieted as he began to speak.
“He’s giving his orders,” Daniel said. “Dividing up duties. Sending away some of his people —”
An older man burst out in complaint, but Hor-Aha shook his head firmly, took the man by the arm until he bowed in agreement.
“And some of them don’t want to go,” Daniel said. “Hor-Aha’s telling him he’s needed to take care of the young queen, and the princes. Ah. The plan is to be out of this house by sundown tomorrow, with the women and children sent south by water, and the rest of the men dispersed to other places. And we’re going to stay here with the puddle jumpers and get ready to make Ra think we have an armada.”
Hor-Aha finished with raised hands and something that might have been either exhortation or blessing, but Daniel didn’t bother to translate. Instead, he looked at Mitchell. “So we’re really going to do this?”
“Have you got a better plan?” Mitchell asked, and lifted a hand. “Gen — Colonel O’Neill! If I might have a word?”
Jack grinned, came slouching over to join them, but Carter recognized the worry in his eyes. “Absolutely, Colonel.”
“Where exactly did this information come from?” Mitchell’s voice was very even.
“From Aset and Teal’c.” Jack met his eyes squarely. “You got a problem with that, Colonel?”
“I might.” Mitchell took a careful breath. “You have to admit, it’s very convenient for Ra. He makes us move well before we’re ready, and to put the noncombatants on the move, which makes them vulnerable.”
“Teal’c,” Jack said. “And Aset.” Danyel had come to join him, his eyes narrowing as he picked up the thread of the conversation.
“And Egeria,” Mitchell said. “If it really is Egeria. Teal’c — our Teal’c — and I have been talking, and he thinks it’s possible that a mature larva could effectively overhear what its Jaffa host was thinking, and could have figured out that claiming to be Egeria would save its life.”
“That’s pushing it,” Jack said.
“I believe it is possible, O’Neill,” Teal’c said.
“But you’ve got no proof,” Danyel said.
“And neither have you,” Daniel pointed out.
“What we have,” Danyel said, “is, first, our Teal’c’s word that this is Egeria. Second, she saved Aset’s life, and third, we’ve spoken to Aset since Egeria took her as a host. It’s clear that Egeria is acting like a Tok’ra, not a Goa’uld.”
“We thought we were talking to Tanith’s host, too,” Daniel said, and Jack lifted his hand.
“OK, putting all that aside — what exactly do you expect us to do differently, Colonel Mitchell?”
Mitchell pulled up short, frowning. “I don’t think there is anything, not at this point. But I think we do need to be aware that this ‘Egeria’ may not be on our side.”
“We’re going to need Aset’s help,” Danyel said, “Aset’s and Egeria’s. With her help, we’ve got a chance to reinforce Ra’s fear of the Ancients, maybe manipulate him into making mistakes. She’s incredibly useful.”
“If you can trust her,” Mitchell said, doggedly.
“I’d trust her with my life,” Jack said. “And, yeah, I know that’s exactly what I’m doing. End of discussion.”
Carter saw Mitchell’s mouth tighten, but they both recognized that tone of voice. This wasn�
�t an argument they could win, anyway, not when Jack was the Pharaoh’s right-hand man.
“OK,” Mitchell said. “What about Marik? Do you want to use him?”
“To do what?” O’Neill asked. “He can’t fly a jumper, and he’s a hell of a loose cannon. And if you think I’m going to trust him — you’re out of your mind.”
“You’re trusting one Tok’ra,” Cam said.
“It’s not the same,” O’Neill said.
He was right, Carter knew, and she cleared her throat. “How are you planning to let Teal’c and Aset know what to do?” she asked.
“I’m going to tell her,” Danyel said. “I’ll be heading to the palace once we’re done. Nobody got a good look at me —”
“You hope,” Mitchell interjected.
Danyel ignored him. “And anyway, all us humans look alike.”
Carter opened her mouth to protest, and closed it again. If they were going to tell Egeria — and if they trusted her, they had to tell her; they needed all the advantages they could get — then sending a messenger was the smart way to do it. There was no risk of anything being garbled as it was repeated, or of a written message falling into the wrong hands. Plus there was a good chance that Aset didn’t read Egyptian, and sending a note in Goa’uld was just stupid. No, the best thing was to let O’Neill and his people handle this part of the plan, and hope they knew what they were doing. She looked at Mitchell. “In that case, Colonel, I’d like to talk to Sam. I’ve got an idea of how we can keep Ra from taking the Stargate.”
Mitchell nodded. “Go ahead.”
“You said within days,” Vala said, looking at O’Neill, and Carter stopped to listen. “How long do you think we have?”
“They won’t come tonight,” Jack said. “But tomorrow — it’s possible. So we get as many people away tonight ourselves, and we have the jumpers ready to take off at first light.”
“Why first light?” Daniel began, and then answered his own question. “For the Egyptians, of course. The true gods supporting us against the false.”
“Well, there is that,” Jack said, with a sudden grin. “But mostly I need my sleep.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Ai had helped them rig working lights in the back of the jumper — Sam’s own jumper, or so Sam thought of it, for all that Jack was the only one of them who could fly it — and was now curled in one of the front seats, drowsing if not entirely asleep. Carter slanted a glance toward her, and gave a little smile.
“Well, you can’t blame her,” Sam said, softly. “She’s had a busy day.”
Carter nodded. “Maybe we ought to send her back to the house and let her get some proper sleep?”
Sam considered — the idea sounded lovely, in fact, and just because she couldn’t take time to sleep was no reason to punish anyone else — but finally shook her head. “No, once we get these crystal paths mapped out, she knows where the jumper systems link in.”
“Yeah.” Carter sat back on her heels, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Inside the jumper, it was still warm, though the night chill was beginning to seep in through the hull. “I’m worried about burning out the crystals when the wormhole opens.”
“I think we’re better off trying to make the connection — tap the wormhole itself — after it stabilizes,” Sam answered. “I still think it might be better to use the time travel device as a power source. It’s self-contained, and we don’t have to worry about tapping the wormhole itself.”
“Do we really know how it works?” Carter asked. “Well enough to make that big a modification, I mean. And —”
Sam nodded. “It’s Janus. No, you’re right, I don’t want to fiddle with his work too much.”
“It never ends well,” Carter agreed.
They worked in silence for a little longer, tracing the jumper’s modified power paths, and finally Sam straightened, one hand going to the small of her back. “That’s the last of them.”
“Yeah. They should hold.” Carter worked her shoulders. “I wish I had a cup of coffee.”
“You sound like Danyel.” Sam settled herself against the wall where she had replaced the padding, and reached for the jug of water. “Sorry, I don’t even have beer.”
“That’s probably just as well,” Carter said. “I’m beat.”
“Me, too.” Sam passed the jug across, and Carter took it, drank carefully.
“What about the baby?” she asked, after a moment, and Sam sighed.
“I sent her and Tamit with the Queen,” she said. “They should be all right regardless — regardless of how long it takes,” she corrected, and knew Carter guessed what she had been going to say. “Not very comfortable for me,” she said. “I’ll have to pump and dump.”
“What?”
“Manually express breast milk. Otherwise I’ll hurt like hell.” She shrugged. “Fortunately Ellie’s getting big and eating real food some, so my volume is dropping. It’s not as bad as it could be.” She glanced at the other her, who was watching her with an expression of weird fascination. “Do you have children?”
“I’m not — not exactly,” Carter answered, and leaned against the padded hull. “Cassandra — I guess you’d say she’s my foster daughter. We found her on another planet, the last survivor, and a good friend of mine adopted her. After Janet, my friend, was killed in action, I kind of took over from her.” She paused. “Not that I’m needed all that much. Cassie’s grown now. She’s just finished college.”
Sam took another drink of water. She was hungry, too, but she’d finished her share of the day’s rations long before. That was something Ellie wouldn’t have, college, an entire world to travel. She’d spend her life here, the boundaries drawn by how far she could walk in a day, by the length of the Nile and the rhythm of the flood.
“You could come back with us,” Carter said. “All of you. We could use you, that’s for sure.”
Go back. Sam took a long breath, and let it out slowly. Go back — no, go forward, because this was not her time, not the life where she’d been adrift and miserable, but the world that was supposed to have happened. The world where her father had lived and her mother had died and she’d become this other person, a colonel in the Air Force, this tough, competent other self who sat next to her in an Ancient spaceship in the middle of the night drinking water that tasted of the pottery that held it. A world where she would be nothing, an inferior copy — the same mousy self she’d been before. “I don’t think that would work very well,” she said.
“It would be a little weird,” Carter said. Sam looked at her, and Carter shrugged. “OK, maybe it would be a lot weird. But we always need physicists, especially ones who can work with very strange things, which —” She waved at the jumper and the softly glowing crystals. “Clearly that’s not a problem for you.”
“That’s not, but there are other problems,” Sam said. “I haven’t been a physicist for five years. I’ve been an engineer, a mathematician, an architect — I’ve been helping build what’s going to be one of the greatest cities of the ancient world, and I’m happy doing it. I’m useful, and I’m happy. I don’t actually want to leave.”
Carter nodded as though she understood — and if anyone would, Sam thought, it was her other self. In this, at least, they weren’t so different after all.
“I’m going to be offered the George Hammond,” Carter said abruptly, looking down at her lap and then up as Sam must have looked blank. “The new battlecruiser. The only woman ever to command a starship.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Sam asked.
“Yes. Of course it is,” Carter said firmly. “But.”
“But?”
“It will be two years, maybe three or four. If I do this, it’s ending the old SG-1 forever. And it’s closing a lot of doors in my personal life that won’t ever open again. And I guess I’m a little…ambivalent.”
Sam settled against the bulkhead more comfortably. “Isn’t everyone? Always? Or maybe it’s just us.” Carter smiled at tha
t, as she’d meant her to. “You’ve got to do the thing you really want to do, whatever that is. Do you want the Hammond?”
“Yes,” Carter said.
“Then do it. Pay up the price willingly and be glad you had the choice.”
Carter nodded, glancing around the puddle jumper and out into the night beyond the tailgate. “Like you’re doing.”
“I’m glad you gave me the choice to come back. But my answer is no.”
“I think my answer is yes,” Carter said slowly. “Yes. I want the Hammond.” Her eyes focused somewhere beyond the wall, as though she were already seeing the distant reaches of space she’d travel, galaxies millions of light years from home, worlds replete with mysteries waiting to be solved. “I should tell Ai I’ve been to Atlantis,” she said. “I should tell her that what her grandparents did was worth it.”
“I expect she’d like that,” Sam said. She looked at the other face so like her own — alike and not. Less sun damaged, but with lines of stress beginning at the corners of her eyes, beginning to bracket her mouth. “Besides,” she said quietly, “don’t you think he’ll wait for you?”
Carter closed her eyes a second, a different smile transforming her for a moment. “I expect he will,” she said. Then she rummaged briskly in one of her pockets, pulled out an energy bar and held it up with a wordless question. Sam nodded, and Carter broke it in half, held out one of the pieces. The smell of chocolate and sugar was suddenly strong in the night air, and Sam took it eagerly. It had been five years since she’d had chocolate, even chocolate chips in an oatmeal-granola sort of base, and she took careful, tiny bites, savoring every crumb. The last time she’d had chocolate was with the other Daniel, her reality’s Daniel, sitting in the near-empty mess hall trying to figure out how to stay part of this — thing — they’d stumbled into. She could still see him clearly, floppy hair and heavy glasses and the absolute certainty that they were made for better things. We did it, you know, she thought, though she didn’t believe in ghosts. And you were right, we were, we are, better than we realized.
In the front of the jumper, Ai stirred, waking, and Sam looked at Carter. “Why don’t you take a break? Ai and I can run the first set of diagnostics.”
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