The Drift

by Diane Dru Botsford

He gestured at Huang. “If your goons wanna get Huang stowed on board, I’ll be on my way.”

  “In a moment.” Chen strode up to the F-302 and placed a hand on its belly. “We have long awaited — ”

  A low rumble followed by a good round of ground shaking stopped the ambassador from asking any questions about the fighter-interceptor. He flung out a few clipped orders to his men, they dragged Huang up the gantry and into the cockpit, and Jack hustled them down before they got a closer look.

  After strapping in his silent passenger, Jack hopped in. Another trembler shook the tarmac, sending rippled waves of heat across the asphalt. With a quick salute to Chen — and no complaints — he got the bird out of there as fast as possible.

  A half-hour out of Beijing, he finally let himself breathe, hence the radio-call to Hammond. “Ah, General? We felt a couple of quakes in Beijing before I left. How bad is it elsewhere?”

  “Bad enough, Jack. Sydney’s been hit, but we expected that. Australia’s less than five thousand miles off the coast. However, there’s been reports as far away as Russia.”

  Jack checked his watch. It was a cheap little Timex, courtesy of Airman Gerling. “We’ve got eleven hours left by my count.”

  “Affirmative. I’ve paused the explosives countdown to give you, Colonel Carter, and Dr. Jackson every spare moment I can, just — ” The radio fell back into a bed of pops and hisses.

  “General?”

  “Hurry back, son.”

  “Uh, roger that.” Jack signed off. He knew what Hammond really meant to say was, ‘Don’t screw it up.’

  Jack could do that. Couldn’t he? Even if he had to stick his hands inside a veritable funhouse of Ancient technology and let the machinery have a poke around his head? Sure, he’d do whatever it took to save Earth.

  Screw Sun Tzu and his little book of war. Fame and disgrace had nothing to do with it.

  An alarm chimed. He glanced down at a blinking red light over the proximity sensor. Probably a commercial plane heading toward Japan.

  Switching his grip on the flight stick, he adjusted the navigational computer. Normally, the aft seat co-pilot charted their course, but that seat was taken so he’d slaved the nav-com up front.

  He punched in a slightly tweaked setting. The computer beeped and a fat red error blinked across the screen. “Damn computer. Too many things to do.”

  “Lamentations will only hinder deeds.” The clink of metal cuffs from the aft seat reminded Jack he had a passenger.

  “So you do speak.” He re-entered his course correction and the nav-com display switched from red to green.

  “When words are necessary,” Huang said.

  “And was it necessary to get me and my team almost killed last year?”

  Huang sighed. “My Lord Yu believed it so, yes. I did not expect you to survive the encounter.”

  “Surprise!” Jack snorted. “Your slimy, snake-in-the-head, boom-box leader didn’t want to kill us. He just wanted see if we could kick Anubis’s butt once and for all.”

  “Anubis?”

  “Yeah, remember him? Cranky. Half-Goa’uld, half something else?” Jack held back on saying what. If Yu’s spy didn’t know Anubis had been half-ascended, there wasn’t any reason to tell him. “Wore a long robe with a hood. Looked like something out of Star Wars.”

  “Wore,” Huang repeated. “He no longer survives?”

  Jack grinned. “That’s right. We kicked his smarmy little ass. No thanks to your fearless leader, I might add.”

  The memory of how they’d stopped Anubis made the grin slide right off — sitting in that Ancient weapons chair, his brain so stuffed with data that he couldn’t breathe. And this time… What was it Skaara had said?

  Operating the chair would be a cakewalk compared to retrieving the crystal.

  Oh, joy.

  The F-302 sliced through a puffy bank of clouds backlit by the moon. Jack checked their position. Several hundred miles off the island of Maui.

  “How is he?” Huang said.

  “Anubis? Dead.”

  The cuffs clinked again. “No, I mean my master. Lord Yu.”

  “Your master.” Jack twisted around in his seat harness and pushed back his helmet to get a good look at Huang. “I don’t think he’s missing you very much.”

  Huang averted his eyes. “I am a Dragon Guard.”

  “You’re a clone. I’ve met your replacement.” Jack settled back into his chair. “Actually, I met several generations. How does it feel, knowing you’re just another in a long assembly line of carbon copies, not really meaning much in the grand scheme of things?”

  “You would not understand,” Huang whispered, his voice barely heard above the whine of the aero spike engines.

  “Understand what?” That every time I lose a man and write up another casualty report, that I feel like I’m chipping away at a piece of myself?

  “How do you know about the Dragon clones?”

  Maui went by. He altered course again, deciding to take the F-302 over Alaska and then straight down into Colorado.

  “Yu told us all about them. In fact, when he did, your name never came up.”

  “By ‘us’ you mean SG-1? And yet, where is your team now? How is it you came for me alone?” Again, the cuffs clinked.

  When Jack didn’t answer, Huang added, “I know what it means to be alone, O’Neill.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, there are only two seats. Didn’t Yu teach you how to count?” He tweaked the flight stick, pulling them up another five miles to avoid any commercial flights. “Besides, I like being alone.”

  “’It is impossible for the brave to advance alone, or for the cowardly to retreat alone.’” Clink. “So says Sun Tzu.”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “I know the quote. If it matters any, your kid spouted off all sorts of Art of War crap during our, uh…” Shared illusion? Yeah, that experience didn’t need explaining.

  “Weiyan. You saw my daughter?”

  Off to the east, Jack saw the first hints of sunrise. Pink and yellow striated clouds hovered above the horizon. A reminder of what waited for them in Antarctica if they got back in time. “Where do you get off, leaving a kid like that? People like you should never be allowed to have children.”

  “I realize this. In ways you would never understand.”

  “Weiyan’s a brave girl, Huang. Despite you abandoning her.”

  “I see.”

  “You should,” Jack said, pointing out the starboard window. “You have the best seat in the house.”

  He nudged the nose north. At their current speed, they’d be over Alaska in about ten minutes.

  “Tell me of my daughter, O’Neill.”

  And there it was, the real reason Jack had opted to do this milk run solo. For Weiyan’s sake.

  “No thanks to you, she’s got backbone.” Jack told him everything. Including the fact that his daughter lay dying in a cold, frozen wasteland.

  And if Huang didn’t do his part in retrieving that crystal, pretty much everyone would follow soon after.

  STARGATE COMMAND

  19 AUG 04/0330 HRS MCMURDO STATION

  19 AUG 04/1030 HRS STARGATE COMMAND

  Daniel hurried out of the elevator and onto level 28, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He’d had two hours to nap, shower, dress in camo gear, and sling back enough coffee to keep him going for whatever came next. That, and ten minutes to stuff a few items in a pack. Not everything he packed was essential, but he’d had a last minute inspiration thanks to a side trip to the archives and a quick talk with Dr. Kevin Hopkins.

  Daniel ran toward the armory, the precious item stowed in his pack. Huang. He was going to meet a direct descendent of Sun Tzu. If circumstances weren’t so extreme, he’d have a million questions.

  He knew he should trust Skaara, but he was half-terrified. The plan relied too heavily on Huang and Jack working together. Daniel just couldn’t see that being a successful partnership.

  At th
e armory, he grabbed a pistol and was halfway to the gate room, when the master-of-arms chased him down. “General’s orders, sir.” He handed Daniel a P90 along with a sling and two magazines.

  Daniel shoved the magazines in a pant-leg pocket and took the rifle. He waved off the sling. He hated the idea of being strapped to a rifle. Shifting his pack to his left shoulder, he headed toward the blast doors, the P90 cradled in his right arm. The airman on guard slid his security card through the lock. The doors opened, revealing Sam over by the gantry, a P90 dangling from her chest.

  Her wet bangs told him she’d rushed through their two-hour window just as fast. The real Graham Simmons — or at least, he hoped it was the real one — handed her a scanner. Daniel wondered if she’d told the lieutenant about Skaara’s impersonation. Probably wasn’t a good idea, all things considered.

  Especially if it really wasn’t the lieutenant. Could Skaara still be around, keeping an eye on things?

  There was only one way to find out. Daniel headed over to join them. “Graham, how are you?”

  The lieutenant grinned. “I’m doing pretty good, sir. You?”

  It sounded like Graham.

  “Good, good.” Daniel looked closely at his face, his clothes, his hair —

  “That’ll be all, lieutenant.” Sam grabbed Daniel’s elbow and pulled him to the far wall. “That isn’t Skaara.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Too many contractions.” She punched a few buttons on her scanner. A yellow light flashed on the display. She tapped in another series on the keypad and the light winked out.

  “Sam?”

  She flipped the scanner over. “Yeah?”

  “Any word from the outpost?”

  Sliding the battery case open and shut, she turned the scanner right side up and thumbed the ‘on’ button.

  “Got your eyes and ears?” he asked, only half-teasingly.

  “What?” She looked up from the scanner. “Oh, sorry, Daniel.” She stuffed it inside her tactical vest pocket with a frown. “I spoke to General Hammond a few minutes ago.”

  “And?”

  “Weiyan’s still alive, but the general doesn’t seem to think she’ll last much longer. Teal’c’s with her. Based on,” she hesitated, “past observations, she won’t ascend until she’s ready to, um… What I mean to say, is…”

  “Die?” He understood Sam’s discomfort. While he couldn’t quite remember the last moments before his own ascension, he’d regained painful memories of the radiation sickness. Flashes of dialogue with Oma, with Sam, with Teal’c. His last moments with Jack.

  I think I can do more this way. Please, Jack. Tell Jacob to stop.

  Had he done more? Had he made a difference?

  As if summoned by the memory, Jack strode in, dressed in camo, P90 hanging from his sling. Sergeant Walter Harriman followed him, waving a clipboard.

  “General,” said Walter, “the president left orders not to initiate evacuation to the Alpha Site. If I do this — ”

  “Last I checked, the president doesn’t have a crystal ball.” Jack yanked the clipboard from Walter, signed it, and handed it back. “Tell him I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’d rather have him fire my ass afterwards than take any chances.”

  “But — ”

  “Come on, Walter.” Jack tugged his cap’s bill. “Nothing beats an old-fashioned ‘I told you so.’ On the other hand — ”

  “If President Hayes is wrong,” Walter recited, “Earth will crack open.”

  “Like an egg.” Jack turned toward Daniel and Sam. “You two ready to go?”

  “Yes, sir.” Sam glanced up at the operations room. “We removed the lock on P3Y-702 from the dialing computer.”

  “Where’s Huang?” Daniel slipped his P90 between his legs so he could fasten his pack to his vest-back.

  “The doc’s making sure he eats a good meal before we leave.” Jack jerked his chin toward Daniel’s pack. “We’re only going for four, maybe five hours. Whatcha got in there?”

  “Nothing.” Daniel kept his face impassive.

  Jack waggled a finger at him. “You brought a copy of The Art of War for the guy to sign.”

  “Funny.” Daniel picked up his P90. “Is this necessary?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think Yu’s going to bother us.”

  “You know the cliché, Daniel. Better safe than sorry.” He turned toward Walter. “Dial it up, Sergeant.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The blast doors slid open once again. Huang, his wrists and ankles in cuffs, shuffled into the room with SG-13 right behind him — everyone except Balinsky. They were also dressed up in camo gear, including Kevin Hopkins who’d been drafted in the past twenty-four hours to be their new team member. Unlike the others, Kevin didn’t have a weapon out and drawn on the prisoner.

  Colonel Dave Dixon kept his M-16 trained on Huang as they made their way over to the gantry. Though Daniel had never met Huang before, he couldn’t help but notice how worn out the man seemed. Gaunt, hollow-eyed, his thin beard white and ragged. He didn’t see any resemblance to Yu’s current First Prime, Oshu until the man lifted his chin and stared up at the Stargate. Then the green flecks in Huang’s dark eyes matched Oshu’s exactly.

  The gate began to spin. Steam rose from the bulky red capacitors. The inner ring ground along its track, the sound echoing against the gate room’s cement walls. The ring slowed, stopped, and the first chevron lit up.

  “Chevron One encoded,” Walter announced over the PA system.

  The ring circled back around. A half-sob escaped Huang’s throat. “I never stopped believing.”

  “Quiet down,” barked Dixon.

  Daniel cringed. “Jack, is it really necessary to treat the man this way?”

  “Chevron Two encoded.”

  “I never stopped hoping,” Huang whispered.

  Dixon raised his M16 directly into the old man’s face. “I said, quiet down.”

  Daniel shared an uncomfortable look with Kevin.

  Huang stepped around Dixon’s rifle. “So long. I have — ”

  Ka-chink.

  “Where’s Siler?” asked Jack.

  “I’m here!” Siler ran in, backpack in hand. He buckled it onto Jack’s vest. “Sorry, sir. Took a moment to find — ”

  “I’ve got it from here.” Jack handed his pack to Sam and turned around. Keeping her face neutral, she secured it to his vest-back.

  “Chevron Six encoded.”

  Startled, Daniel looked up at the gate. The first six chevrons were lit up. He’d been so caught up in the tension in the room, he hadn’t heard Walter announce Chevrons four and five. A half-second later, the seventh one locked into place.

  “Chevron Seven locked.”

  The Stargate’s brilliant blue kawoosh erupted and then settled into place. Huang’s mouth dropped open, he took a step back, right into the butt end of Dixon’s rifle.

  “Don’t move until we tell you.” Dixon looked at Jack. “We’re ready, General.”

  “Thank you, Colonel.” Jack pushed down on his ball cap. “We’ll take it from here.”

  “You’re joking, right?” Dixon glanced at Huang and then back at Jack. “This guy’s shenanigans almost got a whole bunch of our people killed. Since when do we play buddies with the enemy?”

  The gate room shuddered, sending ripples across the event horizon. The quake didn’t last long, but it was enough to make Dixon’s eyes widen.

  “Since we started monkeying with gadgets way out of our league.” Jack raised two fingers toward gate. “Move out, SG-1.”

  “Daniel!” Kevin Hopkins called.

  Daniel stopped and turned back toward his old roommate.

  “Good luck,” he mouthed.

  With a nod of thanks, Daniel stepped through the gate, hoping that luck would be enough.

  P3Y-702 AKA KUNLUN/ELYSIUM PEDION

  19 AUG 04/0405 HRS MCMURDO STATION

  19 AUG 04/
1105 HRS STARGATE COMMAND

  Sunrise greeted Daniel as he followed Sam through the gate and out the other side. A rose-colored wash of light blanketed the valley below, the planet’s usual heat camouflaged by an early morning breeze. He climbed down the steps, scanning the valley for any signs of life, be it Lord Yu, his Jaffa, or even Skaara.

  A sense of déjà vu teased him, and for a moment he wondered if they were still in the device’s throes. Then he caught sight of the SGC’s abandoned dig from a year ago. White flags flapped in the breeze, their ends attached to ropes surrounding the various trenches dug by team archaeologists. A few trees wilted in the barren dirt. On a hill off to the left loomed the three-story tall Zhenmushou statue.

  At the valley’s other end stood the chamber. Its high brown walls almost colorless against the rising sun.

  A thwap from the event horizon. Jack stepped through, his hand on Huang’s elbow. It didn’t stop the old man from dropping to his knees in awe.

  Jack gently pulled him back up. “Carter, my lower pocket.”

  “He’s not going to be much help to us cuffed,” Daniel said.

  “I hope you’re right,” Jack said as Sam slipped behind him.

  Huang’s eyes never left the Zhenmushou. “My ancestors… I must pay my respects.”

  “Not going to happen,” Jack said.

  Huang dropped his head. “I understand.”

  “I hope that you do.”

  “Come on, Jack. I think the three of us are enough to keep him from causing any — ”

  “Got it, sir.” Sam handed a key ring over to Jack.

  He bent down and unlocked Huang’s leg cuffs, then his hands. The cuffs clanked against the gate’s stone platform as they dropped. “Happy now?”

  By the time the sun had risen above the horizon, they’d climbed down the hill and headed toward the chamber. Meter-high obelisks lined the half-dirt, half-paved walkway, their Ancient letters worn away by age. Daniel hoped one day to come back, to study the obelisks and figure out if they matched the ones he’d seen in their vision, dream, or whatever it had been. Though Skaara had shared what had caused the plague, he’d left out specifics. Daniel still had a lot of questions.