“No!” Hunter’s shout split the night and Sam froze. Clearly she was as alarmed as Daniel was at the panic in the man’s tone. It was more than just concern at them wandering in where they weren’t welcome, though. It bordered on actual fear. Hunter took a breath and sat back, staring at the fire again. “No,” he said again, quieter this time. “Ain’t safe in the Shacks at night.”
“Why not?” asked Sam. “What happens at night?”
“The Snatchers come.”
“There is no safety in your home?” said Teal’c.
Hunter huffed a bitter laugh. “There ain’t no safety nowhere.”
“Then why do you remain there?”
He ignored the question, just fixed his gaze on the crackling flames, and said, “I’ll take you to Dix, but in the morning. In the daylight.”
“Hunter,” said Daniel, “our friend is back on the Amam ship. We can’t leave him there.”
“Going back’ll only get yourselves caught.”
“Maybe,” Daniel said, “but we don’t have a choice. We’d like to know if Dix can help us.”
“He will, but not in this. That’d put us all in harm’s way. Your friend… the Amam won’t hurt him none. You got time.”
“How much time?” Sam said. “How do you know they won’t hurt him?”
“’Cause your friend’s Lantean.”
“He’s what?”
“Lantean. The Snatchers won’t hurt him none, not till they’re done testing him.”
“Testing him?” said Daniel. “What do you mean?”
“Gods’ truth. There are those the Snatchers take from among their harvestings, and test with workings like the one O’Neill touched. If they’ve the gift to work such devices, then they’re taken to serve a purpose other than…” He swallowed and rubbed his hand over the center of his chest. Daniel saw Sam flinch, as if recalling the momentary pain she’d experienced.
“But to what end?” she asked. “What are they testing them for?”
“No one rightly knows. There’s camp-tales, though, but most of them are nonsense.”
“Tales?” said Daniel, unable to hide his interest.
Hunter sighed and rolled his eyes, as if being asked to recite a children’s story for the hundredth time. “There’re legends of a city that was once sunk beneath the ocean and lived in by a race of… I don’t know, some call ‘em gods. Seems that only the descendants of the gods — those of the Lantean blood — can restore the city and save us all.”
“But you don’t believe the legends.”
Hunter shrugged and threw some more kindling on the fire. “Don’t matter whether I believe it. What matters is that the Snatchers do. And so they search for Lantean blood, like that of O’Neill. Trust me, if he complies, then his fate’ll be better than any other.”
“Whatever that fate may be,” said Teal’c, “I am certain it is nothing good. The Goa’uld often select slaves to become their own personal attendants and treat them, for a time, as the Tau’ri may treat a cherished pet. They are still slaves however, and when their master becomes weary of them, or is displeased in anyway, the slave is dealt an unenviable punishment.”
As it always did, the memory of Sha’re was sudden, still painful after all this time, blessed by Apophis in the form of a symbiote in her head. He could almost see the unnatural flash of her eyes in the flames of the camp fire.
Sam pressed her lips into a thin line. “Trust me, Hunter, Colonel O’Neill is not someone who’ll ‘comply’ with the Amam’s wishes. And I sure as hell won’t be leaving him in their hands.”
“Nor I, Major Carter,” said Teal’c.
“You’re foolish to go back,” said Hunter. “It’s sure death.”
“Not really,” said Sam. “They can’t feed on me, remember?”
“The Snatchers have other ways of killing. You ain’t safe. Your leader man is.”
“We don’t leave our people behind, Hunter,” said Sam. “We’re going back for him.”
“Then we’re decided,” said Daniel. Not that there had never been any other option. “So when do we head back? First light?” But then he saw the grave expression on Sam’s face and realized she’d come up with another option — one he wasn’t going like very much.
“Not you, Daniel.”
“What?”
“Teal’c and I go back. You take my pack and go with Hunter.”
“Sam, no!” There was no way he was letting them go back there alone. The stakes were too high and the idea of the four of them scattered across this barren planet filled him with unease.
“Daniel, it’s the only way that makes sense. If we… if anything happens, you need to go find Dix and get a message home. You’re the one who’ll need to get help.”
The fact that she was right only deepened his dismay, because it would be all the more difficult to talk her out of it. “Then we all go to Dix,” he said. “We’re stronger together.”
“Daniel, you know we don’t have time for that. Any delay could cost the colonel his life.”
“But —”
“Daniel, it’s the only way. Consider it an order.” Her expression was resolute and Daniel knew it was useless to say any more. When Sam pulled rank on him, the argument was over. She nodded at his acquiescence. “First light, then. Teal’c and I go back to the ship. Hunter, can you take Teal’c’s pack with you? We’ll move faster if we travel light.”
Hunter nodded, and seemed genuinely torn when he said, “I’m sorry I can’t go with you, but I’ve a wife and a son.”
Teal’c bowed his head. He, of all people, understood the decision.
“It’s alright, Hunter,” said Sam, less fervent now that the decision had been made. “Go back to your family. And thank you for your help. We couldn’t have made it this far without you.”
Hunter nodded. “I can’t go with you, but I can still help you.” He picked up a stick and sketched a few lines in the dirt. “Here, on the side of the ship where the light rises, you’ll find an access hatch. Ascend two levels and you’ll find the cells where the Snatchers are likely holding O’Neill. Here. And here. The prisoners they hold there are valuable, so you should expect much resistance. It won’t be easy.” From the way he shook his head, Daniel could tell that he thought it would be nigh on impossible. “If… if you make it out, follow the tree line along the base of the mountain. You’ll find the Old Road. It’s broken up and hard to see, but it’s there alright. At the end of that’s the Shacks. You’ll be welcome in my home, Major Carter. And Dix’ll help if he can. I’ll wait for you.”
“Our thanks, Hunter,” said Teal’c.
“The gods’ grace go with you,” he said, but his tone was grim. He obviously doubted there was enough divine grace to cover what luck Sam and Teal’c would need.
Sam knelt down next to the roughly sketched ship schematics, focused and determined. “So, let’s go over these plans again,” she said, “and this time I have a few questions.”
The ceiling of the cell was dark and featureless, cold, just like the rest of this godforsaken ship. Say what you wanted about the Goa’uld, at least they had some flair when it came to decor. This place felt like it had not so much been designed, but rather it had grown from some gruesome embryo. The cell itself was ordinary, more or less. Not the sticky pods from which he and the others had escaped, but a room enclosed by an intricate mesh of bars. He’d been escorted past a heavy guard presence and could still hear the steady tread of the regular patrols in the hallways. Here, though, he hadn’t seen a soul for a couple of hours. At least they didn’t put me back in the pantry, he thought grimly.
Although they hadn’t fed him either, or given him anything to drink.
He’d made some obligatory attempts to find a way out, but the only thing he could see that even resembled a lock was too far out of reach. The Amam guards who’d brought him here hadn’t even appeared to touch anything, the netlike bars simply parting in front of them. Despite the latent talent he’d just d
iscovered for activating alien gadgets, Jack had been thus far unsuccessful in getting the bars to open for him. He thought back to Carter’s grimace when she touched the door panel earlier and her comment that it felt almost alive. It was not a pleasant idea.
It seemed that even the Amam had forgotten about him for the time being, which was just fine with him. Crazy hadn’t hurt him as such. In fact, the thing had seemed completely ambivalent towards his wellbeing. It had spent what felt like hours forcing Jack to try and activate an array of weird tech. Jack had tried his best to prevent the tests from being successful, but it appeared that the outcome of each one was out of his control: some had worked, some had not. He wasn’t sure what it meant. Then he’d been brought to this cell and left alone.
For now, he had no choice but to wait.
Wait for what? For rescue? Who’s coming back for you, Jack?
He hated that little voice. It had been his constant companion on Edora too, until eventually he’d answered its persistent questioning.
No one. No one was coming for him.
That was what he’d thought and then his team had gone and proved him wrong. And he’d been angry. He’d been angry. What a truly ungrateful son of a bitch.
There was a time, long ago, when everything in his life was solid and certain. A time before Charlie and the sound of the shot that had cracked his world apart. He’d known his purpose and his duty then, and, yes, there had been times when he’d landed in situations to which hell had seemed an attractive alternative, but that was all on him. That was part of serving, part of the choice he’d made. Then everything had changed and he’d ended up with nothing. In those days, he was nothing. Until the Stargate. Only then had he realized that purpose and duty hadn’t deserted him after all.
Sometimes, though… Sometimes he woke and felt nothing but old. And it was those times that made him wonder whether this was his game anymore. Did he still have the heart for the fight?
Edora. The place had tested his commitment and he’d come up wanting. Some days he truly wished he was back there, back to the simplicity of farming and fishing. Some days he wished there had been no rescue, that Carter hadn’t been smart enough to find a way home. Some days he thought he could’ve lived with that.
Yet right here, right now, being on this godforsaken rock at the ass end of the galaxy made him realize how wrong he’d been. Maybe it was that old school Air Force ego kicking in, but all Jack could think about was how much he was needed elsewhere, and what might be going wrong without him and SG-1. He had a duty, to his people and to his team, to make it through this. He wouldn’t forget that again.
This wasn’t Edora. And this time there would be no rescue, because he’d ordered it so. Hopefully, Carter, Daniel and Teal’c were already on their way to see Dix, whoever he might be, and hopefully Dix would help them find a way off this miserable world.
If he made it out of this, he’d try and pick up their trail and follow on behind — no, when he made it out of this. Because right now Jack knew that he was the only hope he had.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dawn crept into the sky, a vague brightness through the shroud of mist. Whatever sun stood at the center of this solar system, it brought little light and almost no warmth. Sam thought it would have been almost useless as a guide in most circumstances, but Hunter had said where the light rises, and that much, at least, was distinguishable.
They packed up their rough camp in silence, but when she suggested they get rid of the debris from the fire to hide their trail, Hunter shrugged and shook his head. “They won’t track us here. They don’t hunt in places like this.”
“Why not?” asked Daniel.
“They have easier ways.”
Sam stepped forward and touched his arm. “Hunter,” she said, “if we can, we’ll take them down for you.”
Hunter only smiled, a beaten expression, and said, “You won’t defeat them. There are always more.” Then he headed into the forest, gesturing for Daniel to follow.
Sam, Daniel and Teal’c spared each other a moment, one that had passed between them many times. A look exchanged, a nod, a few brief, meaningless words that didn’t — couldn’t — capture everything they’d want to say if this was the last time, if one of them, or none of them, were coming back from this. The words couldn’t be said out loud so they settled, as they always did, for the nods and the looks, and then they moved out.
The way back to the ship was harder than their escape had been the night before. That had been an all-out run across the open scrubland towards the forest. This time, Sam and Teal’c kept to the tree line when they could, making use of the sparse cover it offered, but it meant a harder uphill climb, with fallen branches and twisted roots to bar their path. The ever-present mist didn’t help.
“Major Carter, do you believe that Hunter is being truthful in saying that the Amam will not hurt O’Neill?” asked Teal’c, as they hoisted themselves up and over a large rocky mound.
“Why would he lie?” replied Sam, though she’d harbored the same doubts. She focused on her footing, not wanting to consider the possibility of what might be happening to the colonel right now if Hunter was lying.
“I do not know. But his tale of a flying city would make his word seem less than reliable.”
“He said himself that he didn’t think those stories were true.”
“He did.”
“And Daniel would say that myths like that tend to be more elaborate versions of something that once was fact.”
“He would.”
“I don’t think we have any reason to doubt Hunter’s word.”
“Indeed.”
She stopped in her climb and turned to face him. “Why would he lie, Teal’c?”
“I am sure he did not.” But Sam knew what Teal’c wasn’t saying: perhaps Hunter hadn’t lied, but perhaps he didn’t know the Amam as well as he claimed. She picked up her pace, more eager than ever to get to the ship.
By her watch, it took them a further half hour to reach it and they headed around it counter-clockwise, as per Hunter’s instructions. It unnerved her to be so close to the enormous vessel and she fought the prickly feeling that the thing was somehow alive and watching them. In truth, it probably gave them more cover than if they’d approached their intended point of entry in a direct line from the forest. This route also gave Sam a chance to scrutinize the hull.
“This thing hasn’t moved for decades,” she said, running her hand along the pitted surface that looked like no metal she’d ever encountered. “Look at how high the moss reaches. I wonder why they’d want to stick around on a planet like this. What’s here for them?”
“The vessel may no longer be able to fly.”
But Sam was thinking of the dark hints that Hunter had dropped, about the Amam’s feeding habits and them having easier options than hunting. She wasn’t sure what he meant, but it didn’t sound like anything good. The sooner they found a way off this planet the better.
For that, they had to find the colonel first. Up ahead the ship curved around and from Hunter’s diagram, she knew they were close. They rounded the hull and found the opening he’d spoken of: a narrow aperture covered by a mesh, about three-feet square, which led into a dark vent. It wouldn’t be comfortable, especially not for Teal’c, but it would do the job. Sam pulled out her pocket knife and began to work the mesh free.
Hold on, sir. We’re coming for you.
Hunter walked with the steady lope of a man used to crossing large distances by foot and Daniel allowed him to range ahead while he followed more slowly. Out in the daylight, away from the murk of the Amam ship, he could see him better and took the opportunity to study their new ally. Hunter was young, but his skin was weather-beaten and his body lean and wiry. Just like Aedan and his people, Hunter looked hungry, his youth already ravaged by the hard life he lived.
They walked downhill through the scraggy forest, its pine scent intensifying the lower they got and the denser the trees became
. Daniel was no expert in forestry, but from the amount of dead wood rotting on the ground and the uniform height of the new growth, he could guess that this whole forest had burned at some point in the past — probably when the Amam ship had landed, back during the war Elspeth Burne had described. He wondered if there were bodies beneath the loamy soil, the bones that Aedan claimed they still found everywhere. The thought made him shiver in the cold morning air and he tugged his boonie lower, sticking his hands into his pockets.
Behind them, the Amam ship crouched against a mountainside that disappeared up into low cloud. The ship seemed to merge with the rock, its weirdly organic hull covered in lichen and clumps of scraggy grass. It almost looked like an abandoned crash site, except that there didn’t seem to be any damage to the ship.
“Hunter,” Daniel called, keeping his voice as low as possible.
Hunter turned, stopping and waiting for Daniel to catch up. “You doin’ alright?”
“Yeah.” He gestured back toward the ship. “Does that thing ever move?”
“Nope. Told you before, it don’t fly.”
“Because it can’t?”
Hunter shrugged. “Just know it don’t.” He jerked his head in the direction he was walking. “Nearly at the Shacks now. C’mon.”
He headed off again and this time Daniel kept pace with him. The descent was steeper here, the ground sometimes rocky, and occasionally Daniel thought he saw patches of some kind of paving. Probably the Old Road that Hunter had mentioned. He’d also spotted what looked like metal girders, twisted and misshapen, and the rough signs of structural foundations. There had been buildings here once.
After a while, Hunter reached out and touched his arm, slowing him as the ground levelled off and then fell away steeply ahead of them. The forest grew sparser again, and here and there Daniel noticed stumps where trees had been recently felled, ax marks biting deep into the blond wood. People foraged here, he guessed.
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