For a moment, she thought Carter would refuse, but then the other woman nodded. “Wake me when you’re done,” she said, and took the seat Ai had vacated.
Sam watched her go, amazed again at the trust she’d earned, then shook herself and smiled at Ai. “Back to work.”
The moon was setting, a bright thin curve against the stars. The gods’ sickle, they had called it when he was a boy on Chulak, and told the tale of how the gods harvested the very stars, scything them from the sky in glittering clusters like grapes from the vine. Even before he become First Prime, he had known that the story was not literally true; once he had risen in Apophis’s service, he had understood it as a metaphor for the wars between the System Lords, whole planetary systems wiped out in a fit of pique. Now, leaning against the edge of the window in a Tau’ri palace, he wondered if there were not some deeper truth behind it, some metaphor for knowledge that preceded the Goa’uld. Danyel would know, or if he did not know, he would guess, and for a moment he missed those evenings spent in speculation. He closed his eyes, conjuring up the narrow house, the comfortable main room, the baby asleep and the adults relaxed around the remains of the meal, Danyel holding forth while Jack teased and Sam considered and he and Aset held hands, fingers clasped tight enough that he could feel the delicate bones.
That time was past. He turned away from the window, back into a room filled with lamplight, dozens of them placed in the niches and on the low tables. That was Aset, he felt sure. She loved light, loved lamps, and now she could demand all the oil she needed. There was no harm in it, and it made her seem Goa’uld, to indulge in such careless pleasure.
The door opened then, one of the palace servants bowing her into the room. They had found more suitable robes for her aboard Ra’s ship, vivid scarlet spangled with gold, and there was more gold woven into her heavy hair. Goddess indeed, he thought, in spite of himself, in spite of knowing better, and bowed deeply. She smiled in answer, but spoke to the hovering attendants.
“Leave us.”
They backed away, bowing, the last one closing the door behind him, and Aset came to take his hands. She shimmered in the lamplight, and she smelled of her favorite musky scent. She had been bathing in perfumed waters, Teal’c guessed, perfumed and strewn with flowers, and he wrenched his mind away from that thought.
“Is there any word?” That was Egeria, and Teal’c took a breath, her perfume almost overwhelming.
“Not yet. Though I would not expect an answer so soon.”
“I would.” Egeria gave him Aset’s smile, a wry twist of painted lips. “If they’re to survive — they have to act.”
Teal’c nodded. “Indeed. But it is too great a risk to send a messenger.”
“But they must,” Egeria said. “How else — we cannot aid them if we don’t know their plan.”
“We know what their plan must be,” Teal’c pointed out. “We have warned them that Ra plans to take the Stargate, and therefore they must prevent it. That is enough.”
“It’s not,” she said. “If we don’t know how they plan to stop him, we may inadvertently interfere. They have to tell us.”
A serpent of unease coiled at the pit of Teal’c’s stomach. What she said was true enough, but it was equally true that what they did not know could not be betrayed. “This is how we have always managed,” he said, and could not help the hint of disapproval in his tone.
She shook herself then, and it was Aset who answered. “You’re right, I know — though so am I! It’s just that I’m worried.”
“As am I.” Teal’c regarded her gravely. “We must not let our concerns drive us to make mistakes.”
“Yes.” Aset took a deep breath. “That’s so. And in the meantime —” She took his hand, smiling, and tugged him toward the gilded bed.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The air was still and smelled of the river and the muddy reeds. Overhead, the stars had faded, and the first light of dawn grayed the sky. Jack looked to the east, where the sky was lighter still, a hint of pink showing on the low-lying clouds. Time he got things started, he thought, and turned away from his jumper. The other Teal’c was waiting with Basa, along with the other Daniel and Vala. The team from the future — and there was a phrase he’d never expected to use — were already sweating in their armored vests, though it was the hair and the tattoo that made Teal’c look so odd.
“Ready to move out?” he said, to Basa, and Mitchell peeled himself off the jumper where he’d been leaning.
“Time?”
“Time,” Jack said.
Teal’c looked at Mitchell. “Sergeant Basa believes he has a man on duty who will let us in the side gate undetected.”
“The guard is a man of mine, one I trained from a boy,” Basa said to Jack, who nodded.
“Is that going to work?” Mitchell asked.
“We relied on inside men last time,” Jack said. “It tended to work. Besides, if the gate doesn’t open, I imagine Colonel Carter’s already provided you with something that will bring down a wall.”
Vala smiled broadly. “As a matter of fact…” She held up several packets of C4.
“And for the armory door, too,” Jack said.
Teal’c nodded, massively competent as always. “If all goes as planned, I believe we will have little difficulty securing weapons for Sergeant Basa’s men.”
“And if it doesn’t go according to plan?” Mitchell asked. “No offense, but how often does that happen?”
“I do not believe that it will materially affect the outcome,” Teal’c answered, with a sudden smile.
Mitchell nodded. “Good enough for me.”
“The main thing,” Jack said, to Basa, “is to protect Pharaoh in case we fail. Make sure Sergeant Irer knows his job is to keep him safe. And yours is to keep the Jaffa too busy to attack the house.”
“Yes, O’Neill,” Basa said. “Be sure of it.”
They clasped hands, and Jack nodded again. “OK.”
He watched them form up, not the neat formation of his cadet days, but a differently disciplined line. One of Hor-Aha’s servants hauled back the gate, and Teal’c and Basa and Basa’s men vanished into the fading dark. Teal’c’s staff weapon, Jack thought. A couple of P90s, every zat he’d kept around the house, which was exactly three of them since Ellie was born, plus spears and bows and slings. And that was his fault, for not keeping a proper armory here, just like the whole attack was his fault. If he hadn’t talked Hor-Aha into letting them go look for a new symbiote for Teal’c, everything would have been fine. Except that Teal’c, his Teal’c, would be dead.
It was not a useful line of thought. He closed it down and walked back to the puddle jumpers, lined up as though on a flight line. Carolyn Lam turned at his approach, and held out a thermos and a stack of pottery cups.
“Coffee?”
It was instant and awful, tasting of the fire, and he closed his eyes in momentary bliss. “Too bad Danyel isn’t here.”
Mitchell took a sip from his own cup, and made a face. “I don’t know, he’d never stop complaining.”
“Not until he finished the thermos,” Jack said. “OK, kids, have we got any last questions?”
There was a resounding silence, even the Ancient woman shaking her head. She was the real unknown quantity, Jack thought. Not that he really believed she was going to betray them, or at least he didn’t think she was going to do anything that would help Ra, but her jumper was a flying wreck. Carter and Sam had gone over it, swapping out as many damaged crystals as they could manage, but it was still going to be a beast to fly. At least they all had a decent number of drones to work with, and Ai had to be a better than average pilot, or she never would have gotten the thing here in the first place.
“One more time,” he said aloud. “Sam, you’re with me, Carter with Ai, Mitchell with Dr. Lam. We’re going to wait until just past sunrise, and then we’re going to head for the pyramid. We’re going to take turns uncloaking — uncloak, recloak, change position as q
uick as you can — and then I’m going to get on the loudspeaker and tell Ra he’s parked in no-parking zone and has two minutes to move his car.” Ai was looking blank, and Jack stopped. “I’m going to tell him he has two minutes to begin preparing for lift-off, or we Ancients will express our disapproval. I don’t think he’s going to leave, but it’s worth a try. If it doesn’t work, then we redeploy. Ai, Dr. Lam, you’ll attack the mothership, I’ll handle any death gliders, and see if we can’t change his mind.”
“A mothership carries a lot of gliders,” Mitchell said.
“We’re invisible, remember?” Jack looked around, projecting a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. One puddle jumper against a flight of gliders — even with the drones able to follow a target on their own, it would be a hell of a fight. “They’re more likely to run into one of us by accident than to actually shoot us.”
Dr. Lam looked a little relieved, but he didn’t think either Mitchell or Carter was buying it. “And the Stargate?” Carter asked. “If Ra tries to take it, who stops him?”
“We do,” Sam said, firmly. “I’m more confident in the crystals on our jumper. And Ai’s is definitely out.”
Carter looked as though she wanted to protest, but finally nodded. “OK.”
“Copilots will handle communications,” Jack said. He’d rather do it himself, and probably would, but the other pilots would have enough to worry about. “Anything else?”
Mitchell shook his head. Ai said, “Thank you, Colonel O’Neill, for letting me fight with you. We have owed the Goa’uld this for a long time.”
“You’re welcome.” He could see the light gathering on the horizon, the limb of the sun pushing up out of the east, far beyond the river. “All right,” he said. “Time to go.”
Danyel attached himself to the crowd of servants entering the palace gates, head down, the basket he’d offered to carry for an older woman tucked under one arm. None of the Jaffa looked twice at him, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind them.
“Where can I take this for you?” he asked, and the old woman smiled and pointed.
“The kitchens, my son, if you’d be so kind.”
He carried it the rest of the way, accepted a small loaf of bread for his kindness, and extricated himself as quickly as he could. Dawn was breaking: he needed to find Teal’c and Aset before the attack began. At least the kitchen staff had been able to tell him where they were quartered, and he knew the palace. He threaded his way through the halls, trying to look as though he belonged, fetched up at last at the door of what had been the Queen Mother’s rooms. There were Jaffa on guard, of course, and he bowed deeply even before they could bar his way.
“Your pardon, but I have a message for the Lady Egeria.”
The senior of the two gave him a wary look. “Wait here,” he said, and disappeared into the room. A moment later, the door opened, and the other Jaffa gestured for him to enter.
Aset was looking splendid. Danyel blinked in spite of himself, seeing the scarlet robe, the gold in her hair and on her arms. And on her hand, too, the golden finger-stalls and disk of a Goa’uld palm device. At least Ra trusted her that far, he thought, and made another bow.
“Lady —”
She lifted her hand. “Leave us,” she said, to the Jaffa, who bowed and backed away, closing the door again behind him.
At her side, Teal’c relaxed fractionally, his hands easy on the staff weapon. “It is good to see you again, Danyel,” he said softly.
“Is everything all right?” Danyel asked. “Are you all right?”
“We are,” Teal’c said, but he shot a quick glance at Aset as he spoke.
“Has O’Neill’s attack begun?” That was Egeria who spoke, her voice resonant.
Danyel nodded. “At sunrise. He’s coming with the jumpers —”
Egeria lifted her weaponed hand. “Kneel.” A beam of light shot from the palm device, slamming him against the wall. Danyel rolled, shaking his head, but a second beam pinned him in place, driving him to his knees.
“Aset!” Teal’c stepped sideways, swinging his staff weapon to cover her.
“Be silent,” Egeria said, and in that instant the door slammed open. Out of the corner of his eye, Danyel saw the sweep of Ra’s formal robes, and then he was forced to the floor.
“What’s this?” Ra demanded. “You are meeting with traitors —”
“Meeting, my lord?” Egeria’s voice was richly amused. “Indeed not. I offer this one as a gift for you. This is Danyel Jackson, O’Neill’s minion.”
The pressure eased at last, and Danyel shoved himself back to his knees, shaking his head to drive away the pain behind his eyes. Teal’c’s staff weapon was trained on him, but the Jaffa looked a fraction less impassive than usual. We got it wrong, Danyel thought. Somehow we got it wrong, and this isn’t Egeria, not the real one. And now — we are so screwed. He glanced around the room, wondering if there was a way to make Teal’c shoot him — not fatally, he hoped, but enough to keep Ra from questioning him —
“Do not attempt it, Danyel Jackson,” Teal’c said, light snapping at the tip of the staff weapon, and Egeria lifted her hand again, holding him frozen.
“Shall I share what I have learned?”
Ra smiled slowly. “By all means. You intrigue me, Egeria.”
She bowed her head in regal acknowledgement. “Thank you, my lord. It is as you expected, O’Neill is planning a preemptive attack, and it will begin today —”
There was an explosion outside, from the direction of the pyramid. Jaffa shouted in answer, and Ra’s head snapped around. “What is this?”
“Lord!” A Jaffa captain came skidding up. “The ha’tak is taking fire from invisible ships.”
“Ancients,” Ra snarled. He looked at Egeria. “So O’Neill was one of them all along.”
She dipped her head. “Yes, my lord.”
And that was wrong, Danyel thought. Maybe there was still hope, if she was still lying — or maybe she was just humoring Ra, hoping to earn his favor.
“Bring him to the peltac,” Ra said. “We will meet this attack directly. And you, Egeria, will stand with me and watch my triumph.”
“It will be my pleasure, my lord,” she answered. She was still smiling as she released her hold, and a pair of Jaffa wrestled Danyel to his feet.
“You know, you really don’t want to upset the Ancients,” he began, and Egeria turned on him.
“Be silent! If you know what’s good for you, you will say nothing.”
She swept out in Ra’s wake, and Danyel cast a look of appeal toward Teal’c. Come on, he thought. Come on, give me a sign, give me a hint, here, let me know what game we’re playing — Teal’c shouldered his staff weapon, and motioned for the soldiers to drag him away.
Jack eased the jumper into the air, trying to relax into the Ancient interface. The displays lit obligingly, speed, attitude, course, weapons array, everything right where he wanted it on the heads-up, and he tried not to glare at it. In the tactical screen, he could see the other two jumpers rising to join him, forming up in echelon off his left — well, left pod, not wing, but it would do. They were all visible for the moment, high enough already to catch the first of the light, and he nodded to Sam.
“Time to cover up.”
She reached for the communications board. “Colonel Mitchell, Colonel Carter. Jack says it’s time to engage the cloak.”
It really wasn’t what he was used to from his copilot, but it would have to do. Disappear, he thought, frowning at the controls, and a light blinked on. “Does that mean —?” he began, and realized that the other jumpers no longer appeared in the standard displays. They were there on the tactical, though, right where they were supposed to be, and he looked at Sam.
“Are we invisible? It’s hard to tell from in here.” He thought the light brightened, but he pretended he didn’t see it.
“I’ll ask,” Sam said, calmly. “Colonel Mitchell, can you confirm that our cloak is working?”
“Sure is,” Mitchell answered. “And so’s Ai’s. How about ours?”
“Looking good,” Jack said. “Or, rather, not looking like anything, which is good…”
“We can’t see you either,” Sam said.
“Next stop, the pyramid,” Jack said, and tipped the jumper into a wide turn, heading north and east, following the river. The rising light glinted off its calm surface: they were too high to disturb the water even with a breeze. He glanced at the tac screen again, checking the formation. If he had more experienced pilots, he’d have them in close and tight, ready to give chase or offer support, but Dr. Lam was no real pilot, and Ai was an unknown quantity in combat. At least they had Mitchell and Carter to suggest tactics, but he was under no illusion about how useful that was likely to be. Like trying to defuse a bomb while wearing hockey gloves…
Ahead he could see the pyramid, capped by Ra’s ha’tak, lights flashing slowly along its massive sides. The glider bays were sealed, and there were no signs of charged weapons: good news, he thought, and nodded to Sam.
“OK, Sam. It’s show time.”
She touched the controls again. “Colonel Mitchell, Colonel Carter, are you ready?”
“Ready and waiting,” Mitchell answered, and Carter echoed him a second later.
“On my mark,” Jack said. “Two… one… now!”
As he spoke, he pitched the jumper up, sent it soaring over the tip of the ha’tak, looped down to drop the cloak and fire a single drone. He swung away immediately, but not before he saw the drone explode short of the ha’tak’s hull: the mothership was shielded, Cloak, dammit, he thought, and the light reappeared. The tac screen showed two more hits, but no damage, and then another jumper — Ai’s, he thought — flashed into view. Another drone exploded against the shield, and he swung the jumper up and out of range, telling it to uncloak as he went.
“Turn on the loudspeaker,” he said, and Sam nodded.
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