STARGATE SG-1: Do No Harm

by Karen Miller

  “Oh. Yeah. Right,” said Dixon. “You guys mined the stuff for a couple of weeks and you survived.”

  She stared at their barren surroundings. Only just. “Thanks for reminding me, sir.”

  “I should have realized this was a naquadah mine after looking at the UAV footage,” said Teal’c. He sounded deeply unhappy. “It is not advisable for you and Colonel Dixon to remain here.”

  “Hey,” she said, turning to him. “Don’t do that, Teal’c. The UAV footage was way below par. It showed bare patches all over the valley. And we’re only going to be here an hour or two, tops. Colonel Dixon and I will be fine.” She took his arm and shook him, lightly. “Come on. Let’s get in there and have a good poke around.”

  “In?” said Dixon, sounding dubious. “Is that wise, given our limited — or should I say non-existent — equipment?”

  Well. For a gung-ho Special Ops type he was certainly cautious. “I don’t see that we have a choice, sir. We can’t go back to Colonel O’Neill and say, Hey we found a mine and it looked really promising from the outside.”

  “Good point,” said Dixon, after a moment. “But we’re limiting our exposure to thirty minutes max and staying close to the entrance, because I’m not going back to O’Neill and saying, Hey we found a mine and it looked really promising and then Carter fell down a bottomless shaft. Okay?”

  “Colonel Dixon is right, Major Carter,” said Teal’c. “It would be foolish in the extreme for us to risk ourselves without need.”

  Technically she was the team leader, but they weren’t exactly wrong. “Okay, okay,” she sighed, then shook her head at them. “Anyone’d think I’d suggested we go abseiling in there.”

  Teal’c’s obdurate expression softened, fractionally. “I believe if you thought it would lead you to a scientific truth, Major, you would attempt to abseil into a sun.”

  “Ha, ha, Teal’c, very funny,” she said. Then, considering, pulled a face. “Although actually, I’ve always thought it might be kind of cool to blow one up…”

  “God,” said Dixon, clearly torn between horror and admiration. “And to think I thought people were exaggerating about you!”

  She wasn’t going anywhere near that one. “So. Are we ready?”

  Not paying attention, Dixon looked again at the mine’s entrance, then behind them at the gently remorseless fall of the valley down to the river and village below. “How the hell did they get the stuff out of here once it was mined?”

  “By tel’tac,” said Teal’c. “And using anti-gravity technology. Naquadah mines are often sited in difficult locations. The Goa’uld long ago grew adept at overcoming such challenges.”

  Sam rolled her eyes. “Lucky them. Unfortunately for us we’re going to have to come up with more conventional ways of shipping the stuff back home.” She tugged her flashlight out of her fatigue-leg pocket. “Okay. Let’s take a quick look around then head back to the village. We want to be there when the colonel returns.”

  On a deep, shuddering breath, her blood fizzing with anticipation, she led her team into the mine.

  Its pitch-dark interior fractured under the onslaught of their flashlight beams. The air was heavy and stale and pressed against their exposed skin with dry, dusty fingers.

  “I was kind of thinking there might be bats,” said Dixon, as they eased their way deeper into the preliminary chamber. “Since this is the next best thing to a cave. Or spiders, at least. But this place is as neat as my granny’s kitchen. I think I’m a little bit disappointed.”

  “Can’t begin to tell you how glad I am about that,” said Sam, feeling the dirt floor shift and crunch beneath her boots. And then she sucked in a sharp breath, because her stabbing flashlight beam had skewered a scatter of pick-axes… and an abandoned ore-trolley just past them. “Okay. This is more like it.”

  The trolley was one of many, as it turned out. Some of them still contained lumps of raw naquadah. Sam collected as many samples as she could carry and shoved them in the pack she’d brought with her, on the off-chance.

  “Incredible,” she muttered. “This is incredible. There’s more unprocessed naquadah in these trolleys than we’ve managed to obtain in three years of offworld missions. My God, for all I know this entire hillside is made of naquadah! It’s unbelievable!”

  Dixon cleared his throat. “Not as unbelievable as this.”

  He and Teal’c had found a pile of skeletons. The remains were tangled together, so it was hard to tell in the kaleidoscoped light how many souls had perished here. She counted two skulls — five — eight —

  God. It’s a slaughter.

  Scraps of clothing still adhered to the bones. Strands of black hair. The flesh was mercifully vanished into the mists of time. Some of the skeletons seemed intact. A few of the skulls had been smashed in. Others seemed strangely melted above the hole where the nasal cartilage had fallen to dust.

  Sam looked at Teal’c, feeling sick. “Is that — were they killed by — ”

  “A Goa’uld ribbon device, yes,” said Teal’c. “Directed with enough intensity, the force of the beam corrupts the bone below the flesh.”

  Hathor’s vicious weapon, boring into her forehead. The obliterating, scorching skewer of bright pain… Shuddering, she looked away.

  Teal’c knelt beside the pathetic scattered jigsaw of bones. “At least two of these human were host to a Goa’uld.”

  “How do you know?” said Dixon, his voice hushed.

  With a surprising delicacy Teal’c reached into the jumbled tumble of skeletons and withdrew a lacy, reptilian-like spine. “The Goa’uld leave remains, as do humans.”

  “I thought the Goa’uld was absorbed into the host’s body.”

  “Not when host and Goa’uld perish in the same instant,” said Teal’c.

  Dixon nodded. “Gotcha.”

  “Whoever they were, they must have died in the war between Ra and Seth,” said Sam. “Wow. Daniel’s going to want to see them. He’s going to kick himself for deciding to stay behind in the village. Janet’s going to flip out over these, too. I’m feeling pretty flipped out myself. Okay…

  She’d brought a spare sample bag with her. Holding her breath, she eased the fragile Goa’uld skeleton into it.

  Colonel Dixon checked his watch, then aimed his flashlight further ahead. “Looks like this antechamber goes a good ways further in, Major. It’ll take us a lot longer than half an hour to explore it properly. I say we hit the pause button until we’ve arranged for some serious back-up equipment.”

  Frustrated, she nodded. “I know. I know. We need arc-lights, gas detectors, seismographs, fully rigged safety harnesses…”

  Dixon was grinning, the flashlight beam morphing his face into a fright-mask. “If this pans out it’s going to be a massive operation,” he said. “Aside from the naquadah there was gold in that shrine, remember, and diamonds. Trinium. Who knows what other unexploited resources there are on this planet, waiting to be discovered?”

  She couldn’t help grinning back at him. His excitement was infectious. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Oh it’s way cool, Major. It’s so cool it’s frigid. This is going to be the biggest treasure hunt in the history of mankind.”

  “We should leave,” Teal’c said abruptly, and picked up the pack she’d filled with chunks of raw ore. Being Teal’c, it wasn’t an effort. “There is little point in you exposing yourselves to the raw naquadah in this fashion.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” she said, reluctant. “I just hate to go when there’s so much more to see.”

  Dixon patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back.”

  Which was very true. More importantly, the afternoon was wearing on and it was going to be a tedious business, picking their way down the side of the valley to the village.

  “Okay. It’s been here three thousand years, I guess it’s not going anywhere in the next couple of days.”

  The moment they reached the outside world again she started sneezing. “Damn! Damn!�
� she said, when the paroxysm had passed. “What is going on, I never sneeze like this!”

  Dixon was staring. “Ah — Major — ”

  But she didn’t need him to tell her. She could feel it herself, a slick warm iron-tang trickle slicking her lips. Her nose was bleeding. And then she was sneezing again, so hard she saw stars… so hard she was thrown off balance. She took one wrong step backwards — slid across a single loose, unstable rock — and then she was falling.

  “Major Carter!” Teal’c shouted, lunging for her, but he was a split-second too late.

  Oh, crap.

  She had just enough time to register pain… just enough time to wish she hadn’t taken off her jacket… to think, I think the colonel’s going to kill me… and then the world disappeared in a supernova of pain.

  O’Neill got back to Mennufer from the gate less than an hour before sunset to find Carter in the village’s small grassy square, dripping blood, looking terrible. Dixon was with her playing doctor and nurse, Daniel was off to one side torn between concern and impersonating Spielberg again, and Teal’c was MIA.

  “What the hell?” he demanded, shouldering his way between the villagers clustered around his damaged major. “Carter?”

  She was seated on a carved wooden stool, her bruised and bloodied face pinched with pain. There was more blood on both of her arms, on her ripped black tee-shirt and her fatigues, which were torn in at least four places. Dixon was swiping an iodine pad over the viciously abraded skin of her right arm, making her wince and suck wind.

  “Carter!” O’Neill said again. “What happened?”

  She looked up, and beneath the blood and grime her pale cheeks tinted pink. “Oh. Sir. Hi.” Awkwardly she shrugged. “I had an accident.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” he retorted, ignoring the whispering Adjoans. “I just don’t believe it. I leave you alone for five damned minutes and you’re trying to kill yourself? What happened?”

  The edgy snap of his voice had the gathered Adjoans scuttling backwards. Daniel pulled away from his whirring digicam. “Easy, Jack. Sam’s okay, it’s worse than it looks, and you’re upsetting our new friends.”

  Take a deep breath, O’Neill. If you punch him you really will upset the locals. “Daniel, why have you turned treating Carter into a sideshow performance? Why the hell are you filming it?”

  With a sigh Daniel hit the digicam’s pause button, took him gently by the arm and nudged him aside three paces. “I’m not filming Sam, I’m filming the villagers watching Sam.”

  “Okay, sounds like semantics to me, but why?”

  “Because,” said Daniel, “when Sam, Teal’c and Carter came back and she was bleeding like a stuck pig, the villagers panicked. I thought it might be good PR if they saw us deal with her injuries. Jack, they’re acting like they’ve never seen medical treatment before. I don’t understand it. Even the most rudimentary civilizations develop an understanding of natural antiseptics, poultices, herbal — ”

  He pulled his arm free. “Daniel, so help me, unless you want to experience the joys of a herbal enema, just — ” And then he stopped, and replayed the comment. “Wait a minute. Came back? Came back from where?”

  “From finding a naquadah mine.”

  “A naquadah mine?” he echoed, and felt the hot, hard thump of adrenaline hit his blood. Yes! We’re in business.

  “We thought you’d be excited,” said Daniel, smiling at the nearest villagers. “But let’s not talk about that now, hmm? Let’s talk about Sam and how the people of Mennufer — ”

  “I don’t want to,” he snapped, repressed a sneeze, then marched back to Carter and Dixon. “You look like crap, Major. Maybe you should get back to the SGC and Fraiser.”

  Carter shook her head, then winced. “No, sir. I’m fine, truly. Nothing’s broken and I don’t need stitches. It’s just a lot of scrapes and bruises. And I bumped my head, but I was only out for a few moments.”

  Great. Another concussion. That made three now. She was catching up to him. He stared at Dixon. “You agree?”

  Dixon looked up from stuffing the used iodine wipes into a disposal bag. “Yeah. Pretty much. She’s got a couple of deep cuts but there’s no muscle or tendon damage. Everything’s still working. I reckon she can squeak by without any embroidery. Butterfly strips oughta hold her together. There was a fair bit of dirt in the wounds but I managed to get it all out.”

  “Yeah. Okay. Fine.” He took another deep breath. Damn. Blood and Carter were never a good combination. Of course blood and any of his team were never a good combination, but Carter… “So obviously, Major, you fell down,” he continued, forcibly derailing that particular train of thought. “Where and how come?”

  “Colonel O’Neill,” said a gentle voice. “I fear the fault is mine.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  O’Neill turned. Blinked. Khenti and his fellow Elders stepped out of the crowd. “Khenti. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

  Khenti halted before him and pressed his age-knotted fists to his chest. In his shadow, Sebak, Madu and Panahasi did the same. A voice and its echo, that was Khenti and his council of Elders. “I am not surprised, Jack. You are concerned with the welfare of your friend.”

  “I’m all right, Khenti,” said Carter. The tightness of her voice contradicted the claim. “You mustn’t blame yourself.”

  “Of course I must,” said Khenti. “As senior Elder I allowed you and your companions to place yourselves in harm’s way. I am deeply grieved to have failed you in this fashion. This is not the action of a true friend.”

  That had Carter sitting up a little straighter. “I’m sorry? I don’t understand. I thought you said it was all right to explore the valley.”

  For the merest moment Khenti’s gaze shifted. He almost looked… guilty. Then his expression smoothed and he was the austere village leader once more. “There are places in the valley where the people of Mennufer do not tread. Places that have significance to us… but only us. As you and your friends are strangers here, I did not believe you would face danger. I was mistaken. I humbly crave your pardon, Sam.”

  And then the gathered villagers gasped, as Khenti stiffly lowered himself to the grass before her.

  “Oh, no,” said Carter, more distressed now than she seemed by her injuries. “Khenti, don’t — you shouldn’t — ” She looked up, her eyes wide in appeal. “Colonel — ”

  “Khenti, no,” O’Neill said, stepping forward, acutely and irritably aware of Daniel’s whirring digicam, capturing every moment for later dissection. He put his hand under Khenti’s arm and lifted the old man off his knees. “Seriously, Khenti, you don’t kneel to us. We’re the visitors here, we’re your guests. What happened to Carter was an accident. We don’t blame you. And you don’t ever kneel to us. You got that?”

  Khenti bowed his head, gracious dignity personified. “You are kind, Jack.”

  “No, I’m not kind,” he muttered, repressing the savage urge to shake some sense into him. “I’m human, just like you. And human beings do not kneel to each other. Not where we come from.”

  “I think where you come from, Jack, is a very strange place.”

  Khenti, you have no idea. “It has its moments.” He turned again to Carter. “So what happened, Major? Can you say?”

  He could see in her eyes that she was editing her answer. Sifting through the sequence of events and reworking them in light of their audience.

  Crap. I could kick Daniel for turning this into street theatre. I need to know what really happened, not the Alternate Reality Readers’ Digest version.

  Now Dixon was deploying a flock of butterfly strips on Carter’s worst cuts. Carter breathed slowly and deeply, the scrapes on her arms glistening reddish-brown from the iodine. Useful stuff, but it stung like a bitch.

  “Major?” he prompted. “You went exploring. And?”

  She shifted her focus outwards and nodded at him. “Yes, sir. And I fell.” She pointed to the distant, tree-scattered slopes. “U
p there.”

  He stared. “You fell off the mountain?” Wonderful.

  “Not on purpose. I was sneezing and lost my footing.”

  “Sneezing?” He felt a nasty little prickle on the back of his neck. Coincidence. Just coincidence. “And that’s it?”

  “Well, we did find some great… scenery.”

  He met her gaze squarely. “Yeah. Scenery. Daniel mentioned that.”

  Behind the pain, her eyes glowed with excitement. He glanced at Dixon and saw the same repressed emotion. “It’s pretty cool, sir,” she said. “I’d love to show it to you.”

  And I’d love to see it, Carter. “Sure. Sounds great.”

  “But not for a day or two,” said Dixon. “Concussion and hiking aren’t a good combination.”

  “Really, Doctor Dixon?” he snapped. “I had no idea.”

  “Sorry, sir,” said Carter, her expression contrite. “Maybe Teal’c can take you.”

  “Yeah, maybe he can. And speaking of Teal’c, where’s he got to?”

  “He was… feeling a little queasy, sir,” said Carter. “Needed a few moments out of the sun.”

  Teal’c didn’t get sunstroke. Which meant… “His gut’s acting up again?”

  She nodded, understanding his shorthand. Now her eyes showed him worried resignation. “Yes, sir.”

  In other words Teal’c had let himself go overdue on his kel’noreem. Damn. “But he’ll be okay?”

  “He said so, sir.”

  And if he said so he would be. Good. But this wasn’t the first time Teal’c had let his body overstress itself by deferring the meditation ritual that kept his system in balance. Having felt the unpleasant effects himself once, it pissed him off bigtime that Teal’c would risk his health. But he didn’t let his irritation show.

  “Great. Now I think we should get you back to the — ”

  “Forgive me,” interrupted Elder Panahasi, stepping a little closer. He pointed, quivering with barely-contained excitement. “But I must know what it is that you do here. What is this brown liquid you have put on Sam’s wounds?”