The Drift

by Diane Dru Botsford

  “Lucky me.”

  Sam headed back toward the monitors. “You see, sir? Piece of cake. With the right genetics, anybody can do it.”

  “Anybody,” said the general, his voice wooden. Distant.

  “Sir?”

  “I’m fine, Carter.” He squeezed his eyes shut again. “Anybody can do this.”

  BUILDING 155 — MCMURDO STATION

  18 AUG 04/1045 HRS MCMURDO STATION

  Teal’c gulped down yet another cup of Rooibos, thankful for the container of red leaf tea Hannah Presley had brought him. Though it was not a cure-all for his current circumstances, he found the soothing drink a suitable contrast to the heated exchange between Daniel Jackson, Major Davis, and the diplomats.

  The negotiations were little more than verbal sparring. One ambassador would jab. Daniel Jackson or Major Davis would parry. Time passed with little achieved, the ambassadors unwilling to compromise on any ground. It was obvious why all three of the diplomats had been sent to Antarctica.

  They were petty fools and cowards.

  Major Davis sagged back against his chair. “Our standing orders are to find weapons that will protect Earth against the Goa’uld.”

  “Weapons which have radically altered the balance of power on this planet,” Ambassador Zhu said, stabbing a finger on the table. “That balance must be — ”

  “An order which the UN Security Council supported,” Daniel Jackson continued, ignoring the woman. “If it wasn’t for the Ancients weapons platform, Anubis wouldn’t have been just a threat, he would have — ”

  Ambassador Zhu harrumphed. “Anubis is gone. There is no need for the weapons platform to remain here in Antarctica in violation of the treaty.”

  “Madame Ambassador, we need more time to study the chair before taking any chances it — ”

  “No more waiting. Certainly your scientists have had enough time now to determine the best means of removal.” Ambassador Duebel smoothed down the sides of his mustache, a mannerism of public grooming Teal’c found pretentious. “Per Article One, no weapons of any kind — ”

  “But, sir — ”

  “No!” Ambassador Juarez waved a finger at Major Davis. “The weapons platform’s presence violates the very spirit of the treaty. The Americans are fools to believe otherwise.”

  Teal’c clenched his jaw in disgust.

  Beside him, Daniel Jackson sighed. “You really believe that? After everything we’ve done to protect you?” He pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That chair is the only reason — ”

  “You keep bringing up the same argument,” Ambassador Juarez roared. “This only proves my point. Americans abuse Earth’s resources as if — ”

  “Enough!” Teal’c leapt up and faced the enemies of his friends. The three ambassadors froze in their chairs.

  Daniel Jackson glanced in his direction, began to shake his head, and then stopped. “I think Teal’c would like to add something to our discussion.”

  Teal’c gazed steadily upon the ambassadors, allowing his stature to create a moment’s pause. Would it also allow him to impress upon them what was at stake?

  Finally, Ambassador Duebel shrugged. “Though Mssr Teal’c has no say in these matters, I am willing to hear his perspective. Objections?”

  “It matters little,” Ambassador Zhu said with a tilt of her head, “but we will allow him the courtesy as a guest.”

  “This is a waste of time,” Ambassador Juarez murmured.

  Teal’c turned toward the Argentine Ambassador. “Then I will be brief.”

  Ambassador Juarez opened his mouth to speak.

  Teal’c stepped closer. “I have served this world for more than seven years. I will have my say, Ambassador.”

  The man’s face went white and he shut his mouth.

  Satisfied, Teal’c returned to his chair. “I wish to speak to your accusations that the Americans are fools — ”

  “That is none of your concern — ”

  “You are wrong, Ambassador Zhu. It is the concern of every being in this galaxy. Your territorial disputes mean nothing to me nor to the Goa’uld.”

  Once sure the Chinese ambassador would hold her tongue, Teal’c pressed on. “These Americans you denounce as fools, it is they who have sacrificed hundreds of lives in defense of this world. Sacrifices that have included many men and women I named friends. To call them fools dishonors their memory.”

  “Forget us Americans for a moment,” said Major Davis. “What about the Russians? They’ve sent several teams through the gate. They know firsthand — ”

  “The Russians have become American puppets,” said Ambassador Juarez.

  “Puppets,” Ambassador Zhu added, “who are rewarded in a manner you refuse to share with others.”

  Teal’c observed the exchange of glances between Major Davis and Daniel Jackson. He knew what rewards the Chinese ambassador spoke of. Rewards she had yet to openly ask for. If O’Neill believed them unworthy of the F-302 fighter jets, Teal’c trusted his friend’s judgment. O’Neill was not Apophis or some other Goa’uld demanding blind trust. His trust had been earned.

  And yet, if the Americans gave the Chinese the plans to the F-302s, would they not have one more ally?

  “Puppets and fools,” muttered Ambassador Juarez. “The Russians and Americans deserve each other.”

  “And so you would dishonor their deaths as well?”

  All three ambassadors suddenly found the table in front of them to be of great interest.

  Daniel Jackson leaned toward him and whispered, “I think the ambassadors get your point, Teal’c.”

  “I do not think so. Indeed, in their attempts to discredit the Ancient weapons platform, they not only dishonor those who have given their lives to protect this world, but its inhabitants as well.”

  Ambassador Duebel crossed his arms. “Do not presume to understand what Earth requires, sir.”

  “It is you who does not understand. Many countries have sent representatives to train with General O’Neill in the use of this technology, including your own. They do this to defend Earth. All of Earth. Should you not honor these people by seeing what it is they do before dismissing their efforts by dismantling the weapons platform?”

  The ambassadors remained silent. Ambassador Duebel picked at his pant leg, while Ambassador Juarez stared at a wall, the lines on his face deepened by his scowl. Major Davis had found something worth removing from his sleeve while Daniel Jackson used the moment to clean his glasses.

  Ambassador Zhu arose from her chair, awarded Teal’c a glare, and then went to the far window where refreshments had been set up. Outside, the sunless day cast a colorless pall over the base.

  “We have somehow digressed from the subject at hand,” Ambassador Zhu said as she retook her seat, a glass of water in hand. “The chair must be moved, and further, China remains emphatic that our people should know the details of the Stargate Program. Allow us to decide what is right and what is wrong.”

  “To use your own words, Madame Ambassador,” said Daniel Jackson, “we’ve somehow digressed from the point of this meeting. These negotiations — ”

  “Remove the weapons chair from Antarctica or there will be no negotiations.” She turned away in her seat, a clear sign of dismissal.

  The Chinese ambassador played at a game, nothing more, Teal’c reminded himself. He reached into his pocket and took hold of his tretonin as a distraction. The cool glass and metal vial served to remind him of the greater picture. For the Jaffa to find the freedom from the Goa’uld he enjoyed, they needed these Tau’ri to cooperate.

  “Ba’al would support your demands to dismantle the chair,” he finally said. “As would Moloc. Amaterasu.” He kept his voice low. Deliberate. “Perhaps even Lord Yu.”

  Ambassador Juarez whirled toward him. “Quiénes son?”

  Teal’c leaned forward, his face neutral. “I speak of other System Lords who would happily see the Ta
u’ri destroyed. They wait, patiently, believing themselves far superior to your planet’s abilities.”

  “How well you have been indoctrinated by the Americans,” said Ambassador Zhu. “More ghosts under the bed to scare us?”

  Major Davis interrupted. “If the Chinese really think the chair should be removed, why send one of their own for training?”

  The two other ambassadors gaped at Ambassador Zhu.

  “Is this true?” asked Ambassador Duebel.

  The Chinese diplomat merely shrugged. “She is there only to placate my government and the IOA.”

  “A political appointee who just happens to have the ATA gene?” Major Davis asked.

  Zhu bowed her head. “An unnecessary exercise.”

  It was then Teal’c saw an advantage and took it. “The Chinese do not strike me as a people who waste time on the unnecessary.”

  “I must agree with our alien visitor.” Ambassador Duebel rose. “In fact, I wonder if China has a specific place they wish this weapon moved.”

  “Is this true, Madame?” Ambassador Juarez’s chair toppled backward as he jumped up. “Your country holds rank on the IOA. Did you intend to have the weapon platform for yourself?”

  Ambassador Zhu’s chin lifted in cold defiance. “I resent what you imply.”

  Ambassador Duebel once again smoothed his mustache. “We imply nothing, though there is merit in reconsidering our positions based on this newest information.”

  “I agree,” Ambassador Juarez said.

  Ambassador Duebel faced Major Davis. “Could a tour of the Ancient outpost be arranged?”

  “Absolutely,” said Major Davis, a relieved smile on his face. “When would you like to go?”

  Ambassador Duebel shifted his gaze to Ambassador Zhu. “Now, if that’s possible.”

  “Just give me a few minutes to arrange a chopper.” The major headed toward the door, but then stopped. He turned back. “How many should I say will be going?”

  “I will go.” Ambassador Juarez joined Major Davis at the door.

  Ambassador Duebel favored Teal’c with a smile. It was open. Honest. Possibly even apologetic.

  “We shall all go.”

  ANCIENT OUTPOST

  FERRAR GLACIER, ANTARCTICA

  18 AUG 04/1050 HRS MCMURDO STATION

  Jack studied the faces of the IOA trainees. The ‘anybodies’ Carter had referred to earlier. They stood in various forms of attention against the wall opposite the weapons platform. Oval origin patches on their red-fleeced pullovers marked them as Europeans, Russians, and Americans. Ten military, two civilians, the trainees ranged from a sixty-something retired U.S. Army vet to a Chinese girl barely out of her teenage years. A dozen genetic freaks in all, each one with the genetics to kick-start the Ancient tech.

  Anybodies. Just like him.

  A couple of them coughed, a few scuffled their feet. A last check of his clipboard, a forced smile, and he called the roster, hoping to God he’d remember who was who.

  “Okay,” he said as cheerfully as he could, “who’s first?”

  Ten hands shot up. No surprise, all the military folks had volunteered. The two civilians just stared at the weapons platform, a matched pair of terrified grins plastered on. One was an Italian, a guy by the name of Michael Castellano, with a ponytail long enough to use for rock-climbing. Then there was the Chinese girl who looked too young to be there. Lanky limbs, long hair pulled back. Too fresh-faced. The girl reminded him of Cassie when she was sixteen.

  General Hammond strode into the room. As Jack met his gaze with a nod, the general joined Carter and Lee behind the chair. The brainiacs kept futzing with the Mark II, but so far, so good.

  Jack returned his attention to the trainees. He waved at a young man with dark-hair and a serious buzz cut. “You first.”

  “Thank you, sir,” he said with a French accent.

  “Name?” Grabbing his clipboard from the platform, Jack gestured for the nugget to take the hot seat.

  “Sub-Officer Andre Charpentier.” He slid into the chair.

  “Sub?” Jack asked. “As in submarine?”

  “Oui. I serve aboard the Améthyste, a nuclear-powered submarine.” He reached for the armrest controls. “The rank is not unlike a sergeant in your nation’s — ”

  Jack stopped him before he could palm the controls’ gel packs. “Listen, Carpenter — ”

  “It is Charpentier.” He stretched out the last few syllables as if he was talking to an infant.

  “Yeah, whatever. I’m not sure how things operate — ”

  “General…” This from Hammond.

  Whoops. Jack kicked his normal self to the back of the bus and tried again. “Sgt. Charpentier,” he said, emphasizing those elusive last syllables. “Go ahead. Put your palms on the controls, nice and — ”

  The chair activated, tilting back as he followed his instructions. “Like so?”

  “Sweet.” Flashing Charpentier an encouraging grin, Jack turned on a small boom box Carter had set up for him behind the chair. A perfect mix of P90 reports, zat fire, and a few staff weapon eruptions to boot. The noise bounced off the walls in a melodious cacophony of battle.

  Yep, he missed that sound.

  Charpentier bolted from the chair. “I cannot!”

  “What?” He shouted over the sound effects. “I haven’t even told you what to do yet.”

  Charpentier stepped down from the platform, flinging a hand at the boom box. “How do you expect us to concentrate with that infernal noise?”

  “Okay! Okay!” He punched the sound off. Carter gave him a bemused grin and then returned to tinkering with her gadgets.

  Jack faced the trainees. “Hear me out, folks. If and when you’re called on to operate this chair, the enemy will attack without hesitation. You will have backup. You will have people protecting your six — ”

  “Our what?” asked one of the German trainees. Jack was pretty sure his name was something Merkel. Peter or Paul or one of those saintly names.

  “He means your rear-end.” This from Ryan Hall, the gray-haired army vet. Hall was a bit too smug for Jack’s liking, but what choice did he have?

  Jack took a peek at his watch. Eleven hundred hours. Lunch couldn’t happen soon enough.

  “We’re ready for the next trainee, sir.”

  Thank God for Carter.

  “Okay, folks.” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s try this again. Who’s next?”

  A sea of raised hands answered his call. They were an enthusiastic bunch, that was for sure.

  He pointed at the Eastern European gal. “Okay, you. Name?”

  Thin, blonde, and with pretty much the saddest eyes Jack had ever seen, the trainee stepped forward. “Private Dora Vukovich, sir.”

  Jack checked the list. “You’re from — ”

  “The Republic of Serbia.” Vukovich raised her chin.

  “Climb on in.” He gestured at the chair. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Vukovich sank into the chair, rested her hands on the gel-controls, and the lights flashed on. As the chair tilted backwards, she closed her eyes. “I am ready, General O’Neill.”

  “Good job, Vukovich. I’m going to turn the boom box back on, okay?” When she gave him a quick nod, he flipped on the sound effects.

  The chair remained active. So far, so good. Time to see what she’s really made of.

  Jack stepped in front of the chair and waved his hand in the space over her head. “Now… Think about Earth.”

  Vukovich’s eyes snapped open. “I do not understand.”

  “Just imagine you’re in space, looking down on the planet.”

  Bingo. Earth came to life in all its holographic glory. A shiny blue marble with a honking big land mass centered near the southern pole.

  “That is not Earth!” a trainee called out behind him. “Have you never seen a globe or even a satellite photograph?”

  Jack shut off the boom box and whirled around. It
had been a girl’s voice. With a Chinese accent. He jabbed a finger at the culprit. “Pipe down because you’re next. Name?”

  “Weiyan Shi,” the girl managed to squeak out.

  “Civilian?”

  The girl bobbed her head nervously.

  “Okay, Shi. I’m guessing you were too busy to pay attention in General Hammond’s briefing.” Jack scowled at the trainee.

  Merkel raised his hand. “The Ancients representation of Earth is from long ago. From when the continents were as one.”

  “At least someone took notes.” Maybe too many notes. Jack tucked that observation aside and flipped the battle symphony back on. He turned toward Vukovich. The hologram of Earth still hung in the air, nice and solid. “You’re doing fine, Vukovich. Now imagine there’s some other someone up in space with you. Some big bad goon — ”

  “No. I will correct the display.” The girl squeezed her eyes shut.

  “That’s not the point.” Jack glanced up at the global display. The midsection bulged outward. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I will prove the civilian wrong. Not just anyone can serve in the Serbian army! I am not an idiot.” Vukovich’s face reddened as she kept up the strain of whatever-the-hell she was doing.

  The platform began to vibrate. Nothing huge, but enough to put Jack’s teeth on edge. On the head’s up display, the sphere became an egg, then a cube. The land mass stretched upward with what could have been a lopsided version of Europe — including the old Soviet Union — spread across the top half. The whole thing looked like a fun house version of Earth.

  Carter stared at the display too, her brow furrowed. “Sir, you might want to get her to stop.”

  “Yeah, look, Vukovich. That’s enough.”

  “Ništa. No.” She gripped the chair’s arms.

  The platform’s vibrations intensified. And then, something fell on Jack’s head.

  Ice dust… From the outpost’s ceiling.

  Someone yelped. Jack quickly glanced toward the trainees. One of the trellised panels had fallen on the Chinese gal.