The Drift

by Diane Dru Botsford

  Sam gestured toward the image. “Is that how the Ancients made control crystals?”

  “Many variations of crystals were made for many purposes.”

  The image tunneled downward until it stopped in the very room they were in, platform and all, with one difference.

  Three crystals extended from the top. The traditional red control crystal nestled between a shorter indigo blue crystal and a flat, solid white one. The three crystals were connected by a series of transparent boards covered in thin lines — almost like circuit boards.

  A glint of light beneath the crystals caught Sam’s attention. She looked down through the platform’s translucent top. Deep inside the base spun an incandescent sphere, the center white-hot. Pockets of gas rippled across its surface. She’d seen something similar once before. “Sir, look familiar?”

  General O’Neill leaned in. After a moment, he shrugged. “Looks like a miniature sun to me. Wait a minute…” The general’s head shot up. “Carter, am I nuts or does that look exactly like that photo-tonic thing Yu used to power his force field and clone his guards?”

  “Photonic energy. Yes, sir. It’s very similar to the Ancient technology we found in Yu’s fortress. We didn’t see anything like this on Vis Uban, but — ”

  “Lord Yu’s acquisition of Ancient technology is only part of our problem,” Skaara said. “The recent accident which brought you here has triggered far worse difficulties.”

  “Difficulties?” the general echoed.

  Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Our problem?”

  “These same mechanisms created the Ancient plague. On Vis Uban and Elysium Pedion.”

  The general yanked Daniel away from the pedestal. “Jack, what are you doing?”

  “Saving your butt, Daniel. Thanks to thawing out an Ancient, the rest of us had the plague. Some of us got cured. Others — meaning me — got a snake in their head. Trust me, you don’t want a piece of this.”

  “O’Neill, it is not real,” Skaara said. “Even if it was, the crystal which caused the plague is long gone. The Ancients destroyed all the duplicating crystals when the plague began.”

  “All except the one Yu got ahold of.” The general let go of Daniel. “So, not real? Okay, then why the show?”

  “Wait a moment,” Sam said. “What do you mean by duplicating?”

  “You would call it DNA replication.”

  “Or cloning?” Daniel asked. “Like Lord Yu’s Dragon Guards?”

  “All powered by photonic energy.” Skaara waved a hand over the platform. The circuit boards disappeared along with the blue and white crystals. Only the red crystal was left. “Three of these platforms were built. As time went on, each was modified for a different purpose. The two on Elysium and Vis Uban were meant for genetic formations.”

  “Uh, excuse me.” General O’Neill raised his hand. “Does any of this have anything to do with Earth?”

  “More than you can imagine. The crystal was installed in a device deep within Earth’s outpost for geological transformations.”

  A sphere rose above the crystal, its blues and whites coalescing into the recognizable from of Earth. Or rather, Earth hundreds of millions of years ago when there had been a single land mass. A singular super continent.

  “Pangaea,” Daniel said. “But that was long before the Ancients lived on Earth, wasn’t it?”

  “Even then,” Skaara said, “they anticipated that they might, someday, wish to colonize your homeworld.”

  A white-gold light flashed toward the southern tip. The super continent broke up, its individual landmasses drifting apart.

  Sam reeled in astonishment. “The Ancients terra-formed Earth?”

  “Carter?”

  “I always thought continental drift was a natural part of our planet’s development.” She spun toward Skaara. “Is that what you meant by Earth ripping apart? We’ve somehow re-activated the outpost’s terra-forming device. Can’t we just shut if off by pulling the right crystal.”

  “It is more complex than that, Colonel Carter.” Skaara pointed at the empty white bracket. “On Elysium, this crystal was used to generate photonic energy. Lord Yu took this crystal, as well as the encoding boards.”

  “The photon emitter and cloning technology. What about the red one?”

  “The control crystal serves as a filter,” Skaara said. “It can be turned on or off and uses the sun to extract photonic energy. That energy can then be sent into the Earth’s crust to make mountains, oceans — ”

  The general whistled. “And rip the planet apart.”

  Skaara sighed. “If switched to its on position, yes, and while you have nothing to fear here on this plane…,” he ran his hand through the platform, “the device on Earth is very real.”

  Sam copied Skaara’s actions. Her hand went right through, as if nothing was there. She should be relieved, but she wasn’t. Not if Earth was in trouble.

  “Oma’s methods of teaching take many forms,” Skaara said.

  Daniel frowned. “Oma isn’t really here, is she?”

  “No. But you must understand that ‘here’ is not where you believe it to be.”

  General O’Neill took a turn waving his hand through the platform. “If this control crystal got switched on back on Earth, how do we shut it off?”

  “You are still on Earth, O’Neill.” Skaara waved a hand over the platform. The air rippled, revealing five silhouettes stretched out across the countertop. The forms coalesced and the silhouettes became the bodies of five people.

  Five very recognizable people.

  Sam stared at her semi-transparent body sprawled across the platform’s other edge. Her left arm covered Teal’c’s waist, her right rested on Daniel’s feet. The three of them — or rather, their bodies — formed a semi-circle around two other bodies, those of General O’Neill and Weiyan.

  Daniel gasped. “When the outpost’s floor collapsed — ”

  “Would someone please explain what’s going on here?”

  “My God, Jack. Look.” Daniel pointed toward the platform. The bodies had solidified, and in Weiyan’s case, a charred black version of the control crystal protruded from her stomach.

  Daniel glanced over his shoulder toward Weiyan and Teal’c who still sat on the floor by the wall. He looked back at Skaara. “If we aren’t — ”

  “Dead, Daniel.” The anger in Jack’s face stilled. “The word is dead.”

  “You remain very much alive.” Skaara turned his gaze toward Weiyan.

  “What about her?” Sam whispered.

  Skaara dropped his gaze. “Her father’s journey brought her to you, and now he must join you in saving Earth.”

  “Huang help us,” the general sputtered. “Are you nuts?”

  “What is happening?” Weiyan jumped up and ran over. Sam grabbed her before she could get too close.

  “Uh, Jack?” Daniel pointed toward the ceiling. In unison, everyone gazed upward.

  A ragged hole appeared in the ceiling above them. General Hammond peered down from its edge.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  SHUNYI PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL

  BEIJING, CHINA

  2004 AUGUST 18, 9:00 PM

  Huang knelt beside his cot, his right forefinger sliding across the floor. Though he had no lamp, no mirror, or window, his eyes had long adjusted to the dark cell. Raising his hand, he judged the room’s filth upon his fingertip. It would suffice.

  A downward stroke. A lower dash across his brow. Higher up, an inverted bracket.

  The wénshēn completed, he leaned back against his thin mattress. His daily devotion to Yu was a pale effort, but it was all he had to honor his lord.

  A ragged sob escaped Huang’s parched throat. The thought of never returning, of never seeing his lord and master was a bitter burden he would carry to his grave.

  A burden of knowledge.

  Knowledge of defeat. Of disaster. Of knowing his pride had allowed the Tau’ri to see through his plans to
help his Lord Yu.

  Huang’s stomach gurgled, feeling a hunger his soul no longer possessed. Each day, food would be brought. Each day, he would refuse sustenance except a single sip of water and a crumb to salve his basic urges. He deserved nothing more. His prison cell served merely as a living tomb. He would die here, and for once, he found himself truly accepting that knowledge. It brought him peace.

  Unbidden images swelled in his memory. Images of his life as a Dragon trainee with Lao Dan Shi. The steady thrum of Lord Yu’s fortress barrier came to mind. As children, they would run along its perimeter, the pulsing barrier’s hum an assurance much like the beat of one’s own heart. The Jaffa would smile as they raced past, indulging in joyous freedom.

  A whiff of dank air stuffed his nostrils, returning him to the present. The cell was warm, humid. For one brief moment, he decided it must be late summer in Beijing. The cherry blossoms long gone.

  His face became wet, sticky. Ashamed at his tears, Huang shut his eyes again and allowed the dark its due.

  A golden light warmed his eyelids. He welcomed its memory. Companion, savior, the light had saved him from Antarctica’s treacheries. Huang thought back on his time in the Tau’ri’s frozen wasteland with a newfound appreciation. Ice-blue glaciers. Crisp, fresh air. His Antarctic travails had been a time of ferocious landscapes testing his every move.

  Though he also remembered the constant doubts, it was clear to Huang now that possibility had been in abundance. Each day a gift of life.

  The light faded. A memory too far out of reach.

  The darkness spoke. “The tree which fills the arms grew from the tiniest sprout.”

  A recollection? Perhaps. Though it did not sound like his teacher Lord Yu or even Shi, his brother.

  “A quote of Lao Tzu?” He squeezed his eyes tighter, searching heart and mind for the voice’s owner. “Many years have passed since I heard the words of the Tao Te Ching.”

  His voice cracked. It had been many months since he had muttered any word aloud. Quing’s visit… Yes, he had last spoken aloud to his ex-wife. Was that a month ago?

  A year ago?

  The memory spoke again. “Lao Tzu also said, ‘the journey of a thousand li commenced with a single step.’”

  Huang opened his eyes, prepared to meet only the cell’s black embrace. Instead, a young man stood before him. Swathed in a nimbus of golden-white light, his visitor could not be more than twenty, if that. Olive-skinned, with long plaits of jet-black hair, the youngster’s wide brown eyes stood out in contrast to his bleached-white robes.

  “Your journey nears its end, Huang Sun Tzu.” The young man smiled broadly.

  Huang returned the smile. “I am ready.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ANCIENT OUTPOST, ANTARCTICA

  18 AUG 04/2230 HRS MCMURDO STATION

  George peered down at Jack, SG-1, and Zhu’s daughter, their condition unchanged. In his head, he replayed every moment of Lt. Graham Simmons’ time at the outpost. From coffee to counsel, the visitor’s actions had fitted the young man to a tee.

  If it wasn’t Graham, then who was it?

  “I’m not imagining things,” he told Dr. Lee.

  “No one’s saying you are, General, but…” Lee shrugged. “I never saw him. I gave you coffee the first couple of times, and then — ”

  “Brooks and Gerling. I realize that now.” Beneath the force field, the rise and fall of his people’s chests was the only sign they were still alive. “Is it possible we’ve had an alien visitor?”

  Lee’s voice lowered. “Maybe an Ascended Being?”

  “If it was, then why the masquerade?”

  “Well, this was their equipment.” Lee pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “According to Dr. Jackson’s reports, they were Ancients first, right? Maybe one of them wanted to see what we broke.”

  “By impersonating one of our own?” With a sigh, George turned his gaze back toward the force field. “I’d have appreciated the visit if they just gave us the instructions on how to fix this mess.”

  The frown on Jack’s unconscious face deepened. He looked downright angry. Moving closer to the hole, George wondered what on Earth was going through his protégé’s head. On the other side of the illuminated platform, Teal’c jerked from side-to-side, his broad chest shuddered once, and then his shoulders sagged.

  As he quieted, George felt his own heart slow down in relief.

  “General Hammond?” Major Davis called out.

  “Report.” George turned his attention away from the force field. The Navy SEALS had packed enough C-4 on the Ancient Weapons chair to blow up the entire installation.

  “That’s the last charge, sir.” Davis beckoned Colonel Ferguson over. “Two Bell 212s are waiting topside to evacuate the last personnel over to Marble Point and then, McMurdo.”

  Ferguson hurried over and snapped to attention. He’d pretty much clammed up since his arrival. No surprise. The Ancient chair and the sight of SG-1 under that force field was enough to make anyone do the same. “At ease, son.” George glanced over at the archway where Ambassadors Zhu and Duebel stood, each lost in their own thoughts. “How many can fit on one of those choppers?”

  Ferguson slid a look toward Davis. Either the outpost spooked him or something else was going on.

  Davis gave him a nod. “Colonel, how many?”

  Ferguson returned his attention to George. “I can squeeze a good fifteen in, General, if there’s no equipment to carry.”

  “That’ll do it.” He indicated the ambassadors. “Get them out of here. Leave me one chopper, but the remaining personnel should go now, including the SEALS and — ”

  “If you’re staying,” Dr. Lee chimed in from his computer, “I’d like to do so, too, General. There’s still a good thirteen hours left. Who knows? Maybe that Ascended Being will come back, or I’ll have a breakthrough with the device before we lose the western hemisphere.” He smiled feebly, but George appreciated the sentiment.

  And the reminder of what was at stake.

  “Sir?” Davis turned to face him. “Permission to stay as well. I’d like to help, if you’ll have me.”

  “Happily, Major.”

  An appreciative whistle came out of Ferguson’s mouth. He stuck a hand out toward the major. “You’re serious as a heart attack. You know that, right?”

  “Never more serious.” Davis shook his hand with a smile.

  George watched on as the two slapped each other’s backs, fully aware of the difficulties the major had faced in dealing with the more ‘by-the-book’ colonel. Camaraderie came in all colors. Sometimes, they mixed. Sometimes, they clashed. Somehow, Davis had managed to persevere, do what was right, and win Ferguson’s respect in the process.

  With a final slap to the major’s back, Ferguson stepped back and saluted George. “I was wrong, General. I thought all Davis did was tinker with budgets so those SG teams —  What I mean to say is…” He dropped his hand. “True fact, sir. We never would’ve gotten those birds out of the ice if it wasn’t for the major’s smarts.”

  “Dismissed, Colonel. And thank you.” George returned the salute. Ferguson gave Davis a nod and ran out.

  No doubt about it, Davis was long overdue for a promotion.

  Lieutenants Brooks and Gerling hurried in. George had sent them on what now seemed to have been a wild goose chase — searching for a ‘back door’ into the chamber below.

  “Find anything?”

  The airmen’s matched frowns told him everything.

  “All right. It was worth a try.” He rubbed his eyes, contemplating how he’d manage to stay awake in the hours to come. Simmons’ coffee would’ve come in handy right about now.

  So would an explanation as to who — or what — had impersonated the lieutenant.

  Gerling handed him a slip of paper. “This came in over the wire from McMurdo, sir.”

  George read the hurriedly scribbled note out loud. “Capetown, South Africa. 6.3 R
ichter along Antarctic Intercontinental plate. Emanating inland from shore. Aftershocks ongoing.”

  “We didn’t feel anything, sir,” said Brooks.

  “That’s Ancient technology for you.” Lee took the note and scanned it. “South Africa’s thousands of miles away. If the device has that sort of reach, Europe can’t be far behind.”

  In other words, it was time to move on to phase two. George turned back toward the airmen and ordered, “Assist Ferguson in escorting everyone topside.”

  Brooks dashed out, but Gerling stayed at attention. “Sir? Brooks and I would like to stay, too. I’m qualified to fly a Bell 212 chopper. General O’Neill deserves all the help we can give him, sir.”

  George sized the young woman up. “Permission granted. First escort our diplomats to the surface and then report back.”

  Gerling spun on her heels and strode over to the ambassadors. She spoke softly, presumably telling them, far more nicely than George, that they needed to get the hell out.

  Duebel got the message, following Gerling out of the chamber. Zhu, on the other hand, stayed stock-still.

  George girded himself for the inevitable confrontation. Of course she wouldn’t want to leave her daughter — no parent in their right mind would.

  He skirted the hole and approached her. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but there isn’t anything more you can do here except jeopardize your own safety.”

  Tears welled in Zhu’s eyes. “She is my child. Any hope — ”

  “We won’t stop trying until the very end. I promise.” He nodded toward Gerling.

  “This way, ma’am.” The airman took Zhu’s elbow.

  George headed over to the SEALS as they packed up their kits. “You won’t have room for those. Leave them here.”

  They exchanged glances, each as freckle-faced and wide-eyed as a pair of kids and George suddenly felt his age. It was high time he retired and he knew it. If Jack made it out of this alive —

  “General Hammond?” The taller of the two SEALS —Lieutenant Kalsner — pulled a palm-sized green metal box from his parka’s inner pocket. “Major Davis said we should leave the remote trigger with you. We set it to blow twelve hours from now. All you need to do is start the timer.”