The Drift

by Diane Dru Botsford

  Lee turned away from the hole. “We need to find a way to alter the force field so we can gain access to that device and shut it down.”

  “Let’s put one of the trainees back in the chair,” George suggested.

  Lee shook his head. “Based on how this whole mess started, I’d like to explore some other options first. There might be a way to redirect the field, bend it so we can get to the device. I just haven’t figured out how yet.”

  George found himself wishing — not for the first time — that Colonel Carter was up here and not down below. She’d have this entire mess figured out in an instance.

  Wishes and horses, he reminded himself. “All right, Doctor. Pull together whatever resources you can to shut that thing down. We’ve got less than twenty hours.”

  Daniel had been so surprised by the man’s disappearance that he accidentally breathed in some of the dust stirred up by the quakes. He began to cough uncontrollably.

  Jack started to pound his back, but Daniel waved him off.

  “We’ve seen this before,” Sam said. “On the Nox’s home world.”

  “The Asgard have some sort of cloaking device, too,” Jack added.

  Daniel swallowed a few times, finally calming down his cough. “I don’t think it’s the Asgard, Jack.”

  “Because? From what Thor’s told us in the past, the Asgard used to be buddies with the Ancients.”

  “This just doesn’t seem like the Asgard’s style.”

  “It’s possible we’re dealing with an entirely different race.” Sam turned away from the building and cocked her head as if listening for any more tremors. “Maybe they stumbled onto some kind of Ancient technology and don’t know how to use it.”

  “Hence the tremors,” Teal’c offered.

  Sam shrugged. “Without any equipment to measure seismic activity, it’s impossible to tell if that quake was real or — ”

  “Something we were made to imagine.” Daniel sighed. A gust of hot wind stirred up the yellowed prairie grass, creating mirage-like waves that stretched out as far as he could see.

  “Besides the sun, heat, and lack of snow and ice,” Sam said, “this place has a lot in common with Antarctica. Pristine terrains, windy air, both examples of nature in its extreme.”

  “But how did everything change so dramatically?” Daniel asked. No matter which direction he turned, there was nothing to see. The city, the hills, even the trees were gone. The only thing left standing was the low building about a half-mile off, its dark brown stone facade swallowing the harsh sunlight — almost like a black hole.

  A whimper caught his attention.

  Weiyan had sunk to the ground. She’d tucked her head between her drawn-up knees and wrapped her arms around them. Her shoulders barely shook, but Daniel didn’t need to be a mind reader to know how terrifying this must be. He knelt down beside her, placing a hand on her back.

  “I didn’t do anything.” Her legs muffled her voice. “I have tried to be good. I have tried — ”

  “It’s okay. We’ll get out of here.” He glanced up at Jack and then added, “Somehow.”

  “Don’t look at me.” Jack shrugged. “I’ve got nothing.”

  But Daniel did. He stood up. “I think we do.”

  “Daniel…” Jack narrowed his eyes. “Are you carrying weapons I don’t know about?”

  “No.”

  “Water?”

  “Well, no.” Daniel swallowed again, wishing that wasn’t the case.

  “Food?”

  “No, but — ”

  “Just stop.” Jack raised a finger warningly. “We have nothing.”

  “Pedion Elysium.”

  “’Pedy-my’ beg your pardon?”

  “Pedion Elysium. It’s a name, Jack!” Daniel raised his arms to indicate their surroundings. “If we have a name — ”

  Sam shook her head. “I’m sorry, Daniel, but I don’t see how it’s relevant.”

  “It’s not like we can gate home,” Jack added, “and get your books to figure it out.”

  Daniel dropped his head. They were right. The name was useless without knowing its context. It’s meaning. “There’s a reason we found that obelisk.”

  “Yeah, well, without water, food, or weapons,” Jack said, “the fact is we’re screwed unless our mystery host comes back.”

  “It is not my fault,” Weiyan mumbled.

  “It’s okay,” Daniel assured her. “No one said you did anything wrong.”

  “Speak for yourself.” General O’Neill jabbed a finger at Weiyan. “You — ” He strode toward her, the anger in his face visible, almost tangible.

  “You were in the chair when the floor was ripped out from under us. What did you do?”

  A slight tremor started up, the sound like the faint roar of an engine running off in the distance.

  She jumped up and away from Jack. “I tried to do what you asked. I tried to be a good trainee.”

  Daniel returned a hand to Weiyan’s shoulder for support. Being on an alien planet was one thing. Dealing with Jack O’Neill could be enough to send her over the edge.

  “Technically,” Sam offered, “Weiyan was half out of the chair, sir. It’s possible she triggered some sort of safety protocol. We don’t know enough about the outpost’s technology to be sure.”

  “Indeed,” Teal’c added. “It might only have been a matter of time before such a thing occurred.”

  Jack raked a hand through his hair. “Why now? We’ve had dozens in that chair and nothing happened.”

  “And why the memory lapse?” Sam asked. “We didn’t remember being in Antarctica before we got here until — ”

  “She showed up.” Jack jerked a thumb toward a subdued Weiyan.

  At least she’d stopped panicking. She’d taken up watching the four of them talk. Daniel supposed it must be pretty much like watching a game of tennis.

  A thought occurred as he focused on the horizon again. Shortly after his return from ascension, he’d read a report from one of SG-1’s missions that might have something to do with their situation. “Jack, when we were transported here — ”

  “Don’t ask me.” He waved a hand at their surroundings. “I’ve never seen this place.”

  “Yes, but did the process feel familiar at all?”

  “Familiar as in how?”

  “Like the time you and Colonel Maybourne went through that portal?”

  “The Furlings’ technology,” Teal’c said.

  “Maybourne’s little paradise?” Jack grimaced. “Nope. This was different.”

  “Different how?”

  “Well, for one thing, I didn’t forget who I was.”

  “Good point.” Daniel did a three-sixty, taking in the desert landscape once more. “Well, one thing’s for sure… Whatever technology got us here could be even more useful than the Stargate.”

  “Stargate?” Weiyan asked.

  “Daniel.” The general sliced a hand across his neck. “Clearance levels. Need to know. Hello?”

  “Oh.” Daniel spun toward him, his mouth gaped open. “It’s a little late for that.”

  “Yeah. I suppose it is.” Jack exchanged a glance with Sam. “Look, Miss — ”

  “Weiyan, please.” She gave a slight bow, her earlier fear of General O’Neill apparently subsiding. Just like the tremors. Daniel strained his ears for a moment, but didn’t hear anything. Hopefully, they’d seen the last of any seismic activity.

  “Are we on another planet?” Weiyan asked. “One built by those who created the weapons chair?”

  Daniel thought back on that city with its extraordinary architecture and its people. People who’d walked right through them. “Sam, what was that? A hologram?”

  “I really don’t know, Daniel. They’d need an enormous power source to create something that complex.”

  He gestured toward the now non-existent city’s one remaining relic. “What if it’s housed in that building? Shouldn’t we take a c
loser look?”

  “He’s got a point, Carter.” Jack shoved his hands in his pockets. And yanked them out again as if they’d been burnt.

  Neither Sam nor Teal’c noticed — their attention was turned toward Weiyan — but Daniel had. “You all right?”

  “Yep, terrific.” Jack thrust his hands behind his back. “Let’s go take a look at that building.”

  Daniel pushed up his sleeves. It wasn’t getting any cooler. “If nothing else, we could get out of the sun. Maybe we’ll find more answers inside. Maybe there’s more to this Pedion Elysium — ”

  Jack snorted. “Would you stop with the Elysium thing? It’s not going to help.”

  Sam grabbed Daniel’s arm. “We don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. That building could come down on top of us if there’s another quake. The last thing we need to do right now is make assumptions.”

  “Colonel Carter is correct.” Teal’c knelt down and scooped up a handful of the pale brown soil. “As General O’Neill indicated, we have no resources with which to determine our location.”

  Sam sighed. “Or, any way to get home.”

  “Indeed.” Teal’c flung the dirt down and stood up.

  And yet… Daniel mouthed the words Pedion Elysium to himself. There was something there. Something just out of reach. If only —

  “O’Neill!” Teal’c pointed toward the distant building.

  A golden-white curtain shimmered into life just above the building. The curtain broke into three, no, four ribbons of undulating light. Streaks of a darker gold emanated downward, all pointed toward a glowing white object forming in front of the building.

  “Holy crap,” Jack said.

  “It’s like the Aurora Australis,” Sam said. “Only, instead of green or red, it’s more like a golden-white.”

  “In the daytime?” Jack pointed at the undulating gold-white ribbons.

  “It’s possible photonic emissions from the upper atmosphere are combining with solar wind particles, sir.”

  The white-outlined form began to glow.

  Jack stepped up beside Daniel. “Anyone you know?”

  He had a point. “You think it’s an Ancient?” Daniel asked.

  The emerging coruscated white strands reminded him of his once-mentor Oma Desala. Of Shifu. And of someone else. Another Ancient. Another Ascended Being he should remember, but couldn’t. A face so obscured it made all of Daniel’s other recollections of his time as an Ascended Being amongst the Ancients seem like easy memories.

  “Jack, this could be our ticket home.”

  “Yeah, possibly,” Jack said.

  “Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c said, coming up to stand on Daniel’s other side. “If the Ancients remain removed from human affairs as you once explained, how can you be certain they will assist us now?”

  The glowing strands elongated, reaching up toward the ribbons of golden white light overhead. The two energy sources intertwined, creating a blindingly bright light show.

  “Nice parlor trick,” Jack said.

  “The Ancients don’t play tricks,” Daniel said.

  “Tell that to old oily-faced. Don’t forget, Anubis is ascended, too. Or at least, he’s some half-assed version.”

  “Anubis is dead.” A twinge in Daniel’s shoulder reminded him of when Jack shot him a few months ago when the half-ascended Goa’uld hijacked his body. “There’s no way that’s Anubis.”

  He edged closer.

  “Who is Anubis?” Weiyan asked.

  A thunderous crack erupted overhead with all the power of a sonic boom. Daniel looked up as green lightning tore through the ribboned lights and shot upwards and smashed against the sky. After a moment, a black tear appeared at its epicenter. A ragged edge of nothing.

  The wind picked up. Weiyan crouched low. Jack, Teal’c and Sam leaned forward. Daniel found himself doing the same to keep from being blown backward. Above the building, the gold and white strands bent toward the gaping hole in the sky. The maw widened, the stream of lights swallowed into its jaws.

  And then, it disappeared.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ANTARCTICA

  48 years earlier…

  “Four hundred and twenty-two.” Huang dipped his forefinger in the ash pot. It was the only words he permitted himself upon rising from each slumber. The only words he allowed to mark the passage of time. He pressed his finger against the wooden panel beside the stove and swept downward, the short slash joining the many of others of his exile.

  Four hundred and twenty-two days. A useless, but necessary task since discovering the Tau’ri hut upon the frozen shores. At times it seemed the sun would never reappear. Other times, it seemed to never set. He silently reprimanded himself. He should be grateful to have found the Tau’ri’s long-forgotten domicile.

  When he’d originally set out to return to the Chappa’ai so that he might warn his master of the being of light, a blizzard had so blinded his passage that he had become lost. It was only after many hours of wandering that he stumbled upon the abandoned wooden hut and discovered its contents. Within he found crates of food, furniture, and a fully equipped kitchen. Along the back wall hung frozen carcasses of blubbery, flippered creatures.

  Most importantly, he’d found black and white papers bearing images of men. Tau’ri men. Some pictures had the men on skis, others showed them standing beside massive dogs bearing collars.

  Where the men had gone was unknown. Huang could only assume that the being of light had taken them.

  Turning away from the blackened marks upon the wall, he lit one of the many oil lamps he’d found around the square hut and hobbled over to one of the hut’s few windows. His toes had healed many days ago, but walking was still a challenge.

  He gazed at his reflection in the window through weary eyes. Cracked lips. A straggling beard that warmed his face and throat. Though it was not a First Prime’s proper appearance, it was a truth he had come to accept with one exception.

  Raising the ashen finger to his forehead, he drew the wénshēn of Lord Yu between his brows. Another daily ritual. Another means of seeking solace amongst the failure of his lot.

  He peered out the window toward the shoreline. Many days ago, long sunsets had splashed wild colors across the sky, followed by an endless barrage of darkness and a night sky full of stars. The night’s black had now turned to a red-tinged blue, the scattered clouds almost purple. Barely a sliver of the sun was above the far horizon, but it was a start. Soon daylight would come again and he would have to make a decision. A decision that gave him great unease.

  Satisfied with the soot-stained tattoo, he returned to the stove. The last of his fresh meat simmered within the pot. He had learned through trial and error of the need to hang the mournful-eyed creatures for several days before cooking them. The brains he could cook upon taking down the legless beasts, but the meat tasted more of fat than meat if not aged.

  To remain or to go? That was the decision he must reach before the ice thinned again. If he stayed, he would need to hunt soon, a difficult challenge as he’d lost his staff weapon months ago, while attempting to cross the thin ice that separated the hut from the glacier that held the Chappa’ai.

  Four hundred and twenty-two days.

  Huang sank onto a wooden chair by the stove, soaking in what heat he could to disperse the hut’s cold air. Had too much time passed to warn Lord Yu? Would his master consider him dead?

  A pounding at the door. He bolted to his feet, staring in horror. Had the being of light come back?

  Voices shouted from outside. Men’s voices, in a language he did not know. Huang grabbed the lamp. If necessary, he would use it as a weapon.

  The door burst open and three men stumbled in, all dressed in great orange coats, their hoods lined with black fur.

  Huang raised the lamp menacingly. “Stay back!” he yelled in Goa’uld, his tongue thick from lack of use.

  The men pulled back their hoods. All three wore beards though the tallest of the
three kept his short around his long face. In unison their hands raised in surrender, the tall man speaking to him again in the mysterious language.

  “Bie guan wo!” Huang warned them to stay back again, this time in the tongue of his Tau’ri ancestors.

  The tall man’s eyes widened and he smiled. “Wo de shang di, ni shi zhong guo ren!”

  You’re Chinese!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ANCIENT OUTPOST, ANTARCTICA

  18 AUG 04/1830 HRS MCMURDO STATION

  The floor buckled as George scrambled for cover. He dove for the computer table. As he slipped underneath, another jolt pushed upwards. His head smacked against the metal underside and then he dropped like a ton of rocks. To his right, computer monitors crashed to the ground, their screens shattering upon impact.

  Wall panels rattled. Ice from the ceiling pelted the ground. A scream from the outer chamber pierced the tremor, but unless George wanted to get himself killed, there was nothing he could do until the tremor ended. The airmen and marines assigned to the outpost would protect the civilians and diplomats until this was over.

  If it was ever over. The last time George had been in an earthquake was during basic training at Vandenberg. The Air Force base had shook for a moment or two, but this latest tremor just kept on coming with no end in sight.

  Round after round of ice and snow dumped onto the force field covering the hole in the ground. Each time another round hit, the energy field glowed and sparked.

  Behind all that snow, he got a glimpse of Dr. Lee. Head tucked in, the scientist belly-hugged the Mark IIs as if his life depended on it. George scrambled from under the table to help — the damage those naquadah generators could cause would make the earthquake seem like a picnic.

  He’d made it half way toward Lee when the quake stopped. A light dusting of ice and snow fell on his face and he wiped it off. Lee still clutched the Mark IIs.

  Threading his way through the broken equipment scattered across the ground, George knelt beside the scientist and laid a hand on his back. “It’s over, son.”