The Guards lined up Jack and Tertius some distance apart from each other and hustled back in one hell of a hurry. For a moment nothing else happened, and Jack seemed to be held in place by sheer puzzlement. Suddenly he teetered as if drunk. The accompanying gasp from the crowd went up like an explosion, only to fizzle to breathless silence. Craning his neck Daniel nudged the acolyte in front of him. The man shifted a few inches, cleared the view.
Ablution with scented water, Dr. Jackson's foot! His mission objective had just changed.
"Holy crap!"
Having watched the ground disappear from around the small round tiles where the two men stood, Teal'c shared the sentiment. Two large, ring-shaped segments of the floor had rapidly sunk out of sight; he could not tell how far or by what mechanism. Truth was, he did not care. However it had been effected, the drop was too deep for anyone to survive a fall. At the center of one chasm O'Neill balanced precariously on a stone pillar. Twelve meters to his left, Tertius was in the same predicament.
A ripple of panic and confusion spread down the line of archers, but the initial shock passed and they settled back, watching, waiting. As was his companion.
"What do you intend to do, Major Carter?"
"Short of mounting an air rescue, you mean?" Her voice sounded tight and terse with restraint, and she refused to take her eyes off the scene below. "We can't do a damn thing right now, Teal'c. Their best chance is for us to go through with this exactly as planned and hope nobody knocks them over in the meantime. It'll be up to Daniel and the boys downstairs to get them off these things."
She was correct. Teal'c returned his attention to the unfolding events, trying as best he could to ignore the small figure of a man standing perched above an abyss.
Within the tower, movement could be discerned now. Filing around the golden idol from both sides came the priests, led by Kandaulo. They descended the steps and in a slow, dance-like pace dispersed into a semi-circle, flanking their High Priest. When all motion had subsided at last, Kandaulo raised his hands.
"Ye who are faithful, behold!" Light and clear as glass the old man's words drifted across the courtyard. "Behold the heretics! Behold the traitors! Cut off from communion with you, by their deeds and by the holy will of the Lord Meleq!"
"Bull!" hissed Major Carter. "Your will, you vicious old goat!"
"But Meleq is merciful. They shall be purified by his holy fire, and so their souls be penitent, they shall be redeemed. Pray for them! Pray so that Meleq may appear and cleanse them!"
A murmur sprang up from the crowd, gradually gaining in volume and solidifying into a chant, until Teal'c could make out the words.
Submit, oh child, that thou mayest be cleansed from thy transgression.
Submit, oh child, that thou beestpurified in Meleq's fervor.
Submit, oh child, that thou shalt be consumed by the blessed Mysteries ofMeleq.
Submit, oh child, that thou mayest be cleansed...
It was repeated endlessly, tonelessly, mindlessly by a congregation who seemed to have fallen into a trance. To the Jaffa, fear was kek, weakness, a kind of death, but if asked, he would have admitted that this frightened him. He began to understand how Hamilqart could recall so little of the Purification he had witnessed years ago. There was no rational thought left; these were people who had surrendered control to the one conducting their chorus. Kandaulo must have craved this status. The power of it was truly intoxicating.
The chant continued unabated. Suddenly Major Carter tensed.
"What in the name of... Teal'c! Look!"
The dark chasms encircling the pillars had begun to glow with a faint, scarlet light that grew in intensity, just as the chant had. He conceived an impression of gazing into a pair of giant eyes, gleaming spitefully as though they knew of the helpless lives trapped in their pupils. Teal'c dispelled the notion. It was unproductive.
"What is causing this, Major Carter?"
"At a guess, lava rising into the shafts."
"Would it not melt the walls and the pillars?"
"Not with that kind of surface. Check it out." She handed him her binoculars. "Seem familiar?"
Indeed. The surfaces were as smooth as those Daniel Jackson had described at Peflasco Blanco and Kerkouane.
"The Tyreans didn't build this obstacle course. The technology is way beyond them. My money's on Baal," Major Carter murmured. "Teal'c, can you see Daniel?"
"He is still in the same position."
"Right. Plans have just changed a little. We need to
A shrill whine broke through the drone of the chant, and they both recognized it.
The one-note litany was hypnotic, and Jack almost gratefully latched on to the noise of the ring transporter. Five more minutes, and he'd have believed in out-of-body experiences and taken a step forward. Five more minutes, and he'd be toast anyway. The red-hot mass beneath him climbed steadily. He'd be dead before it reached him. Before long the heat would make breathing impossible. Which would conclude his Purification, he supposed. He'd been thinking soap and water, but the all-time knock-out purifier was fire, wasn't it?
Jack measured the distance to the outer rim of the pit again. Three meters, give or take. Piece o' cake if you could take a running leap, which he couldn't. He'd have to jump high and hope to hell he'd catch the edge and not slip off. At which point somebody would come along and stand on his fingers. If this was to work, he'd need a diversion. His gaze strayed up to the roof. He'd seen faces there earlier, he was sure of it. Teal'c and Carter.
Hey, Carter if you're up there, how about pulling an idea out of your... Any part of your anatomy'll do, Major seriously, I don't -
This probably wasn't a good time to think of Carter's anatomy.
The introductory whine had silenced the chant and given way to the whup-whup of the rings arriving. For some reason he'd believed that Baal would make his entrance through the `gate. A ring transporter carried nasty implications, but they'd just have to cross that mothership when they came to it. Settled smack between the two pits, the rings filled with a brief flare of brilliant energy and whupwhupped out of existence, leaving behind a group of six men.
Only five Jaffa. But if you were a god, you didn't need much of an escort, right? Especially if you were a universally beloved god.
"Behold the Lord Meleq!" Kandaulo bleated somewhere behind Jack.
If it's all the same to you guys, I'd rather not...
The crowd broke to their knees, first the acolytes, then everyone else, and somebody was a heartbeat late because he was distracted. For a second Jack caught sight of Daniel, head cocked, hand curled to where his lapel would be, in an unmistakable pose: radio call. Then Daniel's face disappeared too. But something would be happening. It had to.
Give me a diversion, kids. Give me a fighting chance. A fighting chance...
Something happened alright. Meleq... Baal... turned to inspect the unlikely pair of stylites. Without ever meaning to, Jack had memorized every line of that face, every twitch of muscle, every suave nuance of voice. Now he got the refresher, shimmering through three meters of roiling air. Dark, narrow, patrician, and every instinct he possessed screamed at him to simply keel forward. He'd vaporize instantly. Nothing left to revive, and no time to even feel it. It'd make a change.
"Who are you?" The eyes flared. "Who are you to defy the Lord Meleq?"
No recognition. None at all. The brutal irony of it pinned Jack into place. He hadn't mattered. It hadn't mattered. Not to Baal. Merely routine, the casual placement of a dagger, another drop of acid, and what's for lunch? A minor nuisance, mildly entertaining perhaps, because it squealed, but forgettable. In the end, a waste of time, a broken toy, broken thing.
The blank face angled away, fixed on Tertius.
"Examine your hearts and pledge yourselves to the Lord Meleq so you may be redeemed," Kandaulo intoned.
And how did they figure that? Levitation across the pit, into the welcoming arms of Baal?
Suddenly Jack thoug
ht he understood how all the other heretics had died here. They'd killed themselves. Better to take a little step off the pillar than to give up your soul to that.
"Pledge yourselves to the Lord Meleq so you may be forgiven," chorused the priests.
Forgiven?
"What the hell for?" he shouted.
Baal spun around.
"Vow!" yelled Daniel, virtually the same moment he heard Sam say it on his radio.
The women over in Ayzebel and Kelly's comer were on their feet almost before him and the Phrygians, bursting into deafening howls. Behind them, the Temple Guards flinched. Robes flying, Daniel leapfrogged over the acolyte in front of him and raced across the open space and towards the pits. A staff blast streaked over his head, followed by the tinny chatter of a submachine gun. One Jaffa went down. The others overcame their surprise way too fast, two firing at the roof position and two aiming their weapons at the twenty-odd men who came rushing at them. Too many targets. Some would die, but most would make it.
"You!" Daniel hollered at three Phrygians about to overtake him at a dead run. "Stay with me! I need you!"
The men slowed, reluctant and unsure, but they obeyed. Daniel threw himself on the ground, skidding right up to the chasm around Jack.
"Hold on to my legs, and for God's sake, don't let go!"
From the corner of his eye he saw Flavius break his step for a second, pick up the principle, and race on to the second pit. Baal and the Jaffa had got the idea as well, but they were on the wrong side. The priests fluttered behind them like a spooked flock of purple geese. Daniel felt fists snatch his calves and ankles, just as one of the Jaffa readied a zat. If Jack got hit...
"Jack! Now!"
He slid forward until his entire upper body hung in the air, scorching heat making his eyes water and lashing his face. The spinning blue discharge from the zat'nikatel sizzled towards the pillar and missed by a whisker. Jack came flying at him like a demented trapeze artist, and Daniel forced himself not to notice or think of anything but those hands reaching for his. If he didn't catch, if he -
Strong fingers clasped his forearms, and he managed to lock his own grip just before 190 pounds of Jack O'Neill lost momentum, dropped, and damn near wrenched his arms from their sockets. The fists around his legs started pulling, slowly reeling them in. Then Daniel's upper half was back on deck, and two of the Phrygians grabbed hold of Jack and hauled him over the edge.
The rescuee was drenched in sweat, appallingly filthy, and didn't exactly smell of roses. "Cool catch," he croaked.
"Thanks." Rubbing a maltreated shoulder, Daniel grinned. "Before we do this again, can you lose some weight?"
"I'll take it under advisement. Fetching costume, by the way. Very -"
"Convertite, Phrygii!" bawled a voice from the roof near the tower. "Decepiebamini! Cum potestate diving non jam contendite!"
"What the
"He's telling them not to -"
"I know what he's telling them, Daniel! Who is this guy?"
"Commodus. Leftover from the Neolithic, as you can tell. Friend of Sam's."
"Uhuh... Carter's getting kinda sloppy in her choice of friends."
"What on earth is that idiot telling them, Teal'c?"
Tertius' would-be rescuers had engaged a group of fifteen Guards and were the only ones still resisting - not counting the women who did their best to obstruct the opposition in the western sector of the yard. Tertius stood trapped amid slow death, and the archers, seconds ago ready to loosen a first volley, had lowered their bows. The indecision on their faces mutated to dread as they stared down at Baal.
Arms spread and looking straight at them, the bastard postured between those red chasms, playing god. His remaining Jaffa seemed under orders to cover him and to stop the rescuers, but otherwise not to get involved. Meanwhile more and more Temple Guards pushed their way through a shell-shocked, cowering crowd and towards the skirmish around the pits.
"Commodus has told the Phrygians to turn back and cease to defy the divine power," replied Teal'c. "It would appear that Professor Kelly's theory is correct."
"Terrific!" Sam got to her feet, cover be damned, and ran over to the archers. "Baal isn't a god! If you don't fight he'll kill your people... He'll kill Tertius!"
"He is Baal! He is Ahura-Mazda! He saved us by bringing us here!" one of the men shouted back.
"And now he -"
Teal'c fired a staff blast at the so-called god, but the discharge ineffectually fizzed around the protective force-shield Baal was wearing. If anything, it had succeeded in proving Commodus right.
"Don't!" she yelled. "Draw the fire from the Jaffa, maybe we can give Tertius a chance that way! I'll concentrate on the Guards!"
She skidded back behind the parapet, up to her ankles in bird shit, snapped the selector switch on her gun to single-shot and started picking off Guards, trying not to kill them. It wasn't those guys' fault. Seven were down when Teal'c cried out.
"Major Carter!" He was pointing at a tiny figure leading four more people towards a typically direct solution of Tertius' pit problem.
"Dammit, sir! No!"
Jack dodged the bright streak of a staff blast, slipped in a trail of blood, and barely avoided a tumble, bracing himself with one hand. The trail came from the body of a Phrygian soldier who'd encountered a Temple Guard. The man's sword was still there, and he probably wouldn't mind.
Snatching up the weapon, Jack ran on towards the eastern side of Tertius' pit, Daniel and the three Phrygians close behind him. It had taken a bit of hollering, but at least they were moving now. Just as well. Tertius looked dizzy and panicked, and who could blame him? By the time Jack had got off his perch, temperatures had been distinctly on the uncomfortable side.
Egged on by shouts from the priests who were flapping on the tower steps, four Guards decided their colleagues could take care of Flavius and his men. They pulled out of the engagement on the inside of the chasm and made for the newly arrived SAR team, wildly determined to keep at least one sacrificial lamb where it was supposed to be.
"Come on, Carter!" he growled. "Some cover would help."
Even as he said it, he heard the report from the P90 and the Guard in front stumbled and dropped, his right thigh a bleeding mess. No way she could have missed the body mass, so she wasn't shooting to kill. Good. The next moment staff blasts soared up at the roof, tearing junks of masonry out of the parapet. A brief burst of return fire, submachine and staff weapon, then it died down. They were okay. They were changing their positions.
Unfortunately, the Guards didn't care.
"You!" Jack grabbed the sleeve of one of the Phrygians. "Take one of your pals and keep those clowns entertained. Daniel, you're with me! Bring the other guy!"
Behind a veil ofheat, the slouching form on the pillar straightened up again, shaking its head as though to clear it, and you could see the amount of effort it took. Suddenly Jack doubted whether Tertius would even be able to make the jump.
"Phrygii!"
Okay, so he would make it. If he could produce a bellow like that, he could jump that pit and land on his feet on the other side.
"Phrygii! Pater loquens! Decepiebamini per illum!"
Tertius' accusing finger left no doubt as to who had deceived them. Protected by the force-shield and his Jaffa, Baal posed before a terrified audience, enjoying a display of how the other half died.
"Deus non est! Est Goa'uld! Audite Phrygii, pater vester loquens!"
At Tertius' words a roar erupted from the rooftops, and the Jaffa appeared worried all of a sudden. Maybe they should be.
Phrygians listen, your father speaks!
Dad had proclaimed Baal to be a false god. Question was if the boys believed dad...
The answer came as a melodic whistle, almost as though the air itself had started to sing. The entire first volley from Carter and Teal'c's side of the roof was aimed at Baal. Nine arrows went wide, one hit some ancient priest in the six as he was scrambling for the safety of the towe
r, and five struck home, slow enough to penetrate the force-shield.
Among the wails of the priests, the Jaffa opened fire at the archers, which was rewarded by a second volley from the opposite roof. Two Jaffa literally got it in the neck. The pincushion that was Baal writhed on the ground and reached across the arrows protruding from its chest and for a bracelet on his right arm. Jack stopped dead in his tracks. Now. One shove. Nothing left to revive. Now, before the ring transporter -
And Tertius would die too.
Vengeance is mine...
He dropped the sword, turned away, and dived for the ground at the rim of the chasm. "Daniel! Weigh me down!"
"Jack, let me -"
"Your shoulders are shot."
Tertius staggered atop his pillar, the motion looking rubbery in the heat. "I can't -"
"The hell you can't! Trust me!"
A clumsy, uncoordinated heap of Tertius took off and careened through the air, so low that Jack could barely catch one hand. A very sweaty, slippery hand. He stretched, desperate to get hold of Tertius' left, felt himself slide. Behind him whup-whupped the transporter, and someone's full weight landed on his legs, stopping the slide and giving his knees an amazing amount of grief. He tuned it out, concentrated on that exhausted face staring up at him.
"Hang on, goddammit! If you let go, I swear I'll come after you and break your other nose."
Silhouetted by the black and red glare beneath, an arm flew up, fingers locking with Jack's at last.
Dr. Kelly relieved a passing acolyte of his torch, and it proved a very useful weapon. She brandished it at two Temple Guards and some bewildered Tyreans and finally managed to escape from the maelstrom that funnelled towards the archway.
Good God! They'd dragged her halfway across the courtyard.
As soon as this glowy-eyed Baal impersonator had fallen over, people had started to panic, scared witless of the divine retribution. Entirely absurd of course. Proper deities didn't end up looking like hedgehogs when confronted with a few arrows. At the most, the retribution could have amounted to a raised forefinger. Naughtynaughty, children!
Stargate SG-1: Trial by Fire: SG1-1 Page 23