Relativity

by Stargate

  Jade took her hand away from the bomb and found that it was shaking. With care, she extracted herself from the vent shaft and gathered up her lab coat, leaving the access grille open behind her. After a moment the anxiety subsided and she walked back along the dimly lit corridor, staying to the shadows. She was back in the infirmary before anyone had noticed she was missing, just in time for Doctor Warner to request her help with a lieutenant who had tripped and broken his wrist.

  Jade gave the lieutenant a winning smile and set to work dressing his injury with slow, deliberate care.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Nice jacket,” said Jack, with an arched eyebrow. “Armani?”

  Daniel’s lip curled. “Are you kidding? On government pay?”

  O’Neill frowned at Jackson’s neat attire, flicked a fleck of lint from the cuff of his service dress uniform and cast a look around the gate-room. An honor guard of Marines flanked the embarkation ramp, and behind them were a cadre of Secret Service agents. Kinsey had made sure he was directly at the foot of the ramp, leaving SG-1, General Hammond and Suj to one side. Military flags crowded around the edges of the chamber and waiting patiently for Kinsey’s word were a media crew with video and still cameras at the ready to capture the moment. “Look at this,” Jack said out the side of his mouth, “he’s brought the whole dog-and-pony show. I’m surprised he didn’t get a brass band down here as well.”

  “He tried to,” offered Carter. “Walter told me. But they couldn’t get security clearance in time.”

  “What? Did they think the Trust would sneak somebody through hidden in a tuba?” Jack blew out a breath. “Hey, I’m pretty good with a kazoo. You think Kinsey would go for that?”

  The inner ring of the Stargate rumbled around its axis as gusts of steam puffed from the support brackets. The mechanism ratcheted to a sudden halt and another of the orange arrowheads around the perimeter flared brightly.

  “Chevron six encoded,” Sergeant Harriman’s voice issued from a repeater on the wall.

  “Are you rolling?” Kinsey snapped at the camera crew. “Make sure you’re rolling. I want a profile shot of me against the Stargate when it opens.”

  Jack waited until the moment the seventh chevron was rotating into place and called out. “Oh, Mister VP? You’ve got something on your tie.”

  Kinsey looked down at his shirt just as the wormhole formed, ensuring that he was facing the wrong way when the dramatic flash of blue-white radiation lit the chamber.

  Daniel rolled his eyes. “Jack, I think it might be a federal crime to torment the Vice President of the United States.”

  “Decorum, people,” broke in General Hammond.

  “Yes, sir,” said O’Neill, coming smartly to attention

  Through the rippling pool of the open gate came Vix, Ryn and Koe, along with a couple of vigilant-looking types who had to be bodyguards. Kinsey recovered well and puffed out his chest. “Welcome to Earth,” he began.

  “Thank you,” said Vix, and walked right past him, coming to a halt in front of O’Neill and the others. The Pack leader gave Suj a measuring stare. “We came as you instructed. Have they treated you well?”

  Suj nodded. “As well as we would have treated them, if our roles had been reversed.”

  “A fair comment.” He nodded to Jack and glanced around. “This is an austere sight. Not what I expected.”

  “Well, we’ve got punch and ice cream in the meeting room. It’s not the Ritz or anything, but—”

  “Vix!” Kinsey called out the man’s name and moved smoothly to interpose himself between the Pack leader and the colonel. “I’m Vice President Kinsey. I’m the senior official here.” He shot Jack a poisonous look, which Jack returned as a smile.

  Vix looked at Kinsey, then to Suj, who gave him a shallow nod. With her endorsement, he finally gave the politician more than a cursory glance. “You rule the Tau’ri?” He said it with an air of obvious doubt. Vix reminded Jack of a steelworker or a farmhand, one of those big, leathery guys who’d worked every day of his life doing hot and back-breaking labor, while Kinsey seemed thin and spindly in comparison.

  “Some of them, in a manner of speaking,” came the reply. “I’m here to represent the interests of Earth and her peoples.”

  “We need grain,” Vix said bluntly. “Are you going to trade it to us,” and he looked back at the Stargate, “or are you going to waste our time?”

  Kinsey showed a plastic smile. “Making new allies is never a waste of time. I’m sure we have much to offer each other.”

  “Definitely,” added Ryn, from behind the other man. “This meeting represents a historic opportunity for the Pack.”

  “That remains to be seen,” said Vix.

  Jack’s lip curled as he watched Kinsey place a comradely hand on Vix’s arm, the gesture ringing falsely. “I asked your people here, because I have a heartfelt hope that we, the people of Earth, can help you overcome the trials that you currently face. And in turn, I believe that you will be able to enrich our culture, and help us in our ongoing battle to rid the galaxy of the threat of the Goa’uld. If I can do that, I will sleep better knowing that I was able to forge a bond between our two nations.”

  Daniel shot O’Neill a look and Jack knew exactly what he was thinking. He’s already making this look like it was all his idea.

  Kinsey gestured ahead. “Please. If you’ll come this way? We can get to know each other better.”

  “If you insist.” Vix spared Jack a nod and followed Kinsey’s little circus, with Suj and the other Pack following behind.

  “We’re not going to let Kinsey have them to himself, sir?” said Carter quietly.

  Hammond answered before Jack could frame a reply. “I believe this meeting requires a military presence, no matter what the vice president thinks, don’t you?”

  “Couldn’t agree more, sir,” said O’Neill. “I think Major Carter and Doctor Jackson should also bring their insight as well.”

  “But we’ll have to tread carefully,” said Daniel. “We can’t let Kinsey walk all over this, but at the same time we can’t undermine a representative of the American government in front of a potential ally. They’ll see it as weakness.”

  “This is going to be a fun day, isn’t it?” Jack noted, with fake delight. He glanced at Teal’c. The Jaffa had not spoken since they arrived in the gate-room, and he had kept himself to the edge of things during the arrival. At first O’Neill thought it might be the big guy’s attempt to minimize any reactions from the Pack toward his former life as a First Prime, but now he gave him a second look Jack could tell he was distracted by something. He stepped closer to his friend. “T? What’s up?”

  “I will not join you in the briefing room, O’Neill. I… I have concerns.”

  “About the Pack and their whole anti-Jaffa thing? I’m not going to have them freeze out one of my guys. Hammond was right before, they’ve gotta learn to hate the game, not the player.”

  “No,” Teal’c shook his head. “This is a different matter.”

  Jack folded his arms. “Let’s hear it.”

  Teal’c frowned. Jack knew the look. The Jaffa didn’t like it when he didn’t have all the answers. “While the Pack are on base, there is an ongoing security patrol in progress, correct?”

  “Yeah. The Pentagon set up the directive after that thing with the Ashrak assassin…”

  “I will join them.”

  The seriousness in the Jaffa’s eyes gave Jack pause. “Come on, big guy, what’s going on here? If you think the base has been compromised, then say it. We’ll get Hammond to lock this place up.”

  There was a long moment before Teal’c spoke again. “I am not certain. I have…a ‘gut feeling’.”

  Jack frowned. “All right. You go do what you have to do to get your head straight, or go get some Pepto Bismol from Doc Warner, whatever works. I got enough to worry about today without adding a jittery Jaffa to the list.”

  “It is probably nothing,” Teal’c said as he walk
ed away; but O’Neill had known the man long enough to realize that his ‘nothing’ often meant ‘something’.

  The airman with the rifle waved her to one side as the procession of new arrivals came down the corridor, and Jade dutifully stepped into a doorway to allow the group to pass. The Secret Service agents and the handful of USAF military police officers buffered the members of SG-1 and the four representatives of the Pack. She scanned the faces of the people from the Wanderer, blink-clicking still images for storage in the implant’s memory core. Later, if the opportunity presented itself, she might take the time to go over them one by one, and compare their identities with what data they had back at the Holdfast. Hard information on the Pack was sketchy, and after what had happened in the chaos of the collapse, there had been little time to investigate them. She tried to turn away before she caught sight of the others, afraid that she would stare; she was too slow. Daniel Jackson glanced at her and he gave Jade a nod and a half-smile. She returned it, slightly surprised that it came so easily and so truthfully. Jade covered by staring down at the clipboard in her hand until the rest of SG-1 were gone. A tingle of fear churned in the pit of her stomach. She had the horrible sensation that she would be discovered if they looked at her for long enough, if they stared at her and concentrated. It was the secret terror that lurked in the heart of every spy, that somehow her false disguise would peel away beneath their combined scrutiny. It took a distinct effort for Jade to walk away and not look back to Jackson and the others. She wanted to know them, to be able to speak with them and see them for who they were; but extended contact risked exposure, and exposure meant failure.

  Jade walked on, back to the infirmary. The bomb would explode in just over four hours, timed to coincide with the conclusion of the treaty meeting.

  Sam found herself sitting directly opposite Ryn, and she tried her best to give the man a polite smile, but he had a look about him that made her wonder if he was really paying attention to the meeting at all. Ryn’s manner seemed different from the first time they met, his brusque and slightly arch tone now muted. She put it down to nerves. After all, previously they had been on the Pack’s turf, and now they were on SG-1’s. Perhaps Ryn was just one of those people who couldn’t hack an away game. She sighed inwardly. Great. I’m picking up the colonel’s habit of making ice hockey references. Carter glanced around and caught Koe’s eye.

  He nodded to her. “The boy from the canal is well,” he said, in a low voice. “I thought you would like to know.”

  “Yes, thank you. I’m glad to hear it.”

  At the head of the table, in the seat that General Hammond usually took as his own, Kinsey tapped his finger on the wood and cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, addressing the camera crew by the window as much as the rest of them, “today marks a historic moment. The coming together of Earth and the tribes of the Pack.”

  “We prefer to be known as clans,” said Suj.

  “Clans, of course,” Kinsey smiled, moving smoothly over the woman’s correction. “Our explorers have told us of your incredible technological marvels.” He nodded off-handedly at O’Neill, Carter and Jackson. “We hope you will be willing to share them with us.”

  Before he could take another breath, Vix dug in a pocket and produced a flat oval plate that shimmered with strings of text. “These are our needs and our offer.” He slid the device down the table to Kinsey, who looked at it with mild alarm.

  “I see,” said the politician, although to Carter it was clear he couldn’t.

  “You can read the Goa’uld language?” asked Koe.

  Kinsey pushed the device towards Daniel. “I have people to do that for me,” he replied.

  Jackson picked up the plate and Sam leaned closer to get a better look at it. It resembled a palmtop computer, but the construction of it was an odd mix of metallic frames and flexible membranes. Daniel found control icons and paged through the data. “It’s soft,” he said to her. “Feels like it’s made out of some kind of gel.”

  Carter spotted bubbles moving through the matrix behind the screen. “It’s got a liquid component.” She looked at Vix. “You use fluids in your computing devices?”

  “Some,” he replied. “That unit is of Calaian origin, and liquiform processors are a Calai technology.”

  “I’ve never seen that before,” Sam admitted.

  “Fascinating,” said Kinsey, drawing the room’s attention back to himself. “We have much to learn from one another.”

  Jackson was silent for a moment as he reviewed the data. Suj had already given them a rough idea of what the Pack wanted and the slow nodding of Daniel’s head told Sam that he wasn’t finding anything that raised a red flag; but Carter couldn’t keep her eyes off the data device. If this was an example of the hardware they had available to trade, she couldn’t wait for the opportunity to find out what made it tick.

  “So,” said Kinsey, steepling his fingers before him, “let’s talk about a treaty.”

  The elevator doors rumbled open and Teal’c stepped briskly forward, one hand resting on the grip of his P90, the other directing a flashlight beam into the darkened corners of the maintenance level.

  Three men in duty battle gear followed him warily. They carried their weapons at rest, although the tension radiating from the Jaffa warrior was clearly making them apprehensive. The patrol leader, Lieutenant Everitt, drummed his fingers on the holstered Beretta pistol at his belt and looked at Teal’c without trying to make it too obvious.

  The Jaffa stopped and turned to face him. “You have a question, Lieutenant.”

  Everitt nodded. “Yeah, I do. We already ran a sweep of this tier an hour ago, and it was clear, no-one here but an airman shifting boxes. With all due respect, you pulled us off our patrol pattern to come back here.”

  Teal’c detected a slight air of annoyance in the man’s tone. He was well aware of the effect he had on members of the Tau’ri, that some of them found him difficult to accept because he had no rank or official status within their hierarchy; but he did not have the time or the inclination to consider the lieutenant’s issues with taking his orders. Almost from the moment he had risen that morning, Teal’c had been ill at ease. An irritatingly indefinable sensation gripped him, a tension, a tightness in his nerves like the echo of adrenaline rush after a battle. Something did not feel right, but definition of what that something was escaped him. It was as if there was a shadow just at the edge of his vision, but whenever he turned to give it his full attention, it was gone; a sound heard distantly, too faint to be sure if it were real or just the wind. It nagged at the Jaffa, like a splinter beneath his skin. “Search the tier again,” he said firmly, unwilling to voice such ephemeral concerns to the airman.

  “But weren’t you down here once already as well?” Everitt pressed. “The guy working here, Fong, he said you—”

  “Search it again.” Teal’c didn’t raise his voice, he just gave the lieutenant a steady and unblinking stare.

  After a second, Everitt broke his gaze and looked at the other men. “You heard the man. Do it again. Walker, go with him. Albrechtsen, you’re with me.”

  Teal’c was already walking away, musing on his disquiet. In the past, as a host bearer for a larval Goa’uld, the alien symbiote granted him some measure of preternatural acuity, an awareness of threat, a sharpening of senses beyond those of ordinary men. That time was long past now, the creature dead and his body’s immune system bolstered in its place by the tretonin enzyme— and yet still a measure of the creature’s unique biochemistry remained in him, imprinted on Teal’c’s genetic structure. Was it some remnant of that he felt now, pushing at the edges of his mind? The Jaffa forced the thought away. If these feelings of unease continued, he would have no other choice than to submit himself to the SGC’s medical team for an examination, to be sure that there was no other influence acting upon him.

  He walked slowly and carefully, examining every dark corner, each place where a threat might lurk. Before
, Teal’c had ignored his better judgment and walked away. Now he realized that his first instincts had been correct. Something had been down here, something that left a trail he could only faintly detect, and the more he considered it, the more certain he became.

  And there. He spotted it instantly, halting in place with such suddenness that the airman following him gave a sharp gasp. There were a series of ventilation grilles set close to the floor, and one among them was resting slightly open. Teal’c moved around it in a semi-circle, dropping into a crouch. The sense of wrongness was stronger here. He could almost smell it. The Jaffa panned the flashlight back and forth, but there were no obvious signs of any tripwires or traps connected to the vent. He lowered himself and leaned close to the securing bolts that should have held the vent in place. The tops had been sheared off by a force of great strength, the steel twisted and torn so that the hatch could be opened. A cursory search would have missed such a small detail. “Get Everitt,” he told the airman. “Now.”

  “What is it, sir?” said Walker.

  Teal’c released his grip on the P90 and pressed himself flat to the concrete floor; the grille was just large enough that he could press through the space and into the vent shaft beyond. He heard Walker speaking into his radio as he snaked forward. The Jaffa moved with care until his entire bulk was inside the shaft. Immediately, he was aware of the glow, a small cold pool of color an arm’s length above him. Teal’c turned his flashlight on the object fixed there and what he saw made his jaw harden. He extended a hand and ran it over the surface of the flower-shaped device. It was cool to the touch and it gave a little under the pressure of his fingertips. A thin sliver of crystal served as a display, and on it a march of digits were slowly falling.