Forced to their knees, hands behind their heads, disarmed, and thoroughly defeated. Not the objective he'd had in mind when he'd set off from the SGC the afternoon before. "What do you want from us?" Jack demanded, but no one bothered to answer. He shot assessing looks at his team. Teal'c had definitely taken a hit. Blood dripped down his upper arm and dropped to the ground next to Jack's achingly protesting, left knee. At least, if he understood Jaffa physiology, if one of them had to take a hit, Teal'c was their best candidate. On the other side of him, Jackson looked to be all right and Carter beyond him. They met his eyes with looks of their own. He knew they were expecting him to get them out of this mess.
He'd read the reports and knew with their help he'd done it before. He wanted to believe he'd do it again, but honestly, he didn't have any idea how to escape or better yet take the upper hand and force their captors into undoing whatever had been done to them. What had he been thinking when he'd led them here? Did he really think he was the sort of man who could defy the odds and come out on top every time? The man in those reports might have had what it took, but apparently he'd lost whatever that was when he'd lost his memory. He licked his lips and tried to meet the eyes of his teammates without flinching. He owed them that much.
Carter gave him a half-hearted smile. He thought of her like she'd been earlier in the night, full of life and optimism and breathtakingly beautiful in the soft moonlight. He'd felt perfectly content as though he could have happily watched and listened to her the rest of his life. Instead, he'd sent her off to bed and taken first watch because that was his job. And now he returned her smile with a cocky grin of his own and hoped she couldn't see the fear tying his guts in knots beneath it. Because that was his job, too.
They were roughly hauled to their feet and prodded along the path. The faces of their enemy were hard in the dawn's light and not one of them would meet his eyes. They herded them along an overgrown path that wound its way down the wooded hillside and eventually ended in a village of wood and brick houses sprawled along the valley floor. The two suns were high in the sky and sweltering hot as they were marched grimly into the town. The streets were deserted, but hard, scowling faces watched them make their dejected way through the town. They were led to what proved to be the city jail and pushed into one, large cell together.
Water in a chipped, earthenware jug, a few misshapen loaves of dry brown bread, and a handful of dried meat thrown down on a roughhewn table were the only provisions they were given. Not knowing how long these simple rations were to last them, O'Neill doled them out carefully to his dejected team. He gave a half-hearted kick to the table leg and plopped himself down against the wall. A fine layer of dust rose from the dirt floor around him and temporarily floated in the stifling air.
"What now?" Daniel asked quietly. O'Neill shrugged in return and neither of the other two voiced an answer. The silence ended suddenly with the sound of a key in the heavy wooden door. O'Neill struggled to his feet as the door pushed open, and a small woman entered the room with an armed escort of three large men.
The newcomers stared at O'Neill and his teammates for a few seconds without speaking, then the woman said, "You should not have returned."
"Oh?" O'Neill said, "and that would be because?"
"It can serve no purpose and has only brought harm to the one you call Teal'c," the woman said. Though she spoke harshly, her voice carried with it the smallest hint of regret or remorse.
"Well, see, the wisdom of returning was a bit hard for us to evaluate seeing-"
"Enough!" the woman interrupted him, "It is folly to continue this discussion. Your minds will be wiped once more, and you will be sent through the Circle to your world. Should you be so foolish as to return again, you will die!"
Daniel stepped forward slowly, his hands slightly out as though he were approaching an unfamiliar dog. "Listen. We mean you no harm...we've no desire to cause trouble. We'll be glad to go...but, we'd really, really like our memories back-"
The woman shook her head dismissively at his request and said, "That is impossible...if you were to remember what you learned here-we would be forced to kill you!"
"We haven't learned anything," Sam joined in the conversation. "What is it you're hiding? If you're afraid we'll tell others of your existence..." she shrugged her shoulders, "that doesn't have to be an issue. If you're afraid we'll continue to return-we'll gladly erase your Gate address from our dialing computers."
"But," O'Neill cut back in, "if you send us home like this...we'll be back." He stared intently at the woman, holding her gaze without wavering. "You'll leave us no choice."
"Then you leave us none. If you will not be gone and stay so, we will be forced to keep you among us, or..." she left her words hanging in the air between them. "It is most unfortunate you stumbled upon us...we thought the mind wipe...but obviously we underestimated your resilience and your persistence. In returning, you've shown only too well our wisdom in trying to eliminate the threat you bring to us." She turned and moved purposely to the door. Over her shoulder, she told them, "We will not keep you like this long. I will speak to the others...what we will do with you will be decided soon." Then she was gone.
"Helpful," O'Neill said behind her.
Carter turned away from the door and stared vacantly out the small, barred window. "They'll wipe our minds again...we'll be back to knowing nothing," she said desolately, her feelings about that clear in her words, her voice, and the slump of her shoulders. O'Neill moved to stand beside her. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder but failed to come up with anything useful to say. She shook his hand off and moved away.
For a moment, he stood like an ineffectual fool and then turned to assess Teal'c's injury. Their captives had ignored the wound, but whatever that thing was swimming around in the big man's gut, it had already stopped the bleeding and begun to close the wound. He fussed at it a few minutes anyway not wanting to face the others.
Was Carter right and they'd be mindwiped again? Though the major might not think so, he was inclined to believe that would be the least of the evils facing them. Mindwiped they might be allowed the freedom to live among their captors. Without it...it seemed likely their days would either be cut short, far too short, or stifled in this not-so pleasant cell. He'd read his file; he knew he'd spent time in a prison cell before. He couldn't remember it, but he knew from the clenching in his gut every time that door shut that he didn't want to spend a moment longer under lock and key than he had to. Better to be disoriented and permanently befuddled than locked up.
"Why did you have to give her the ultimatum, Jack?" Daniel demanded. "You know if you'd dropped the death glare and tried to reason with her..."
O'Neill had no answer. It has seemed the thing to do at the time, but Daniel was right. He should have kept his mouth shut and seen where that got them. Doubtlessly, if they hadn't played around with his head he would have known better then to throw down the gauntlet. He couldn't afford to keep bumbling along without a clue what he was doing. He shook his head mutely in Daniel's direction and was relieved that seemed to be all the explanation or apology Daniel needed or expected.
The woman hadn't lied. She was back soon enough for O'Neill. As she brought with her the mindwiping instrument, that was much too soon for Carter. Somewhere between arriving terrified and confused in the GateRoom and standing in this prison cell, she had learned a lot of things she'd forgotten and a thing or two she wasn't sure she'd ever known before. One of which was how important knowledge and understanding was to her. She desperately needed the feeling of security she'd slowly regained as she'd begun to learn things again, and she desperately wanted to hold onto it. Knowing it was all about to be ripped from her again was more than she thought she could stand.
The instrument was a hand device: a rounded, brown jewel woven into a golden webbing which encased the woman's hand like a shimmering glove. The jewel pulsed and gave off a golden light as the woman held it up to Teal'c's forehead. A soft hum filled the room. Emotionlessly, Teal'c looked into the woman's face and made no attempt to escape or fight her actions. Whatever the instrument did, it was all over in less than 30 seconds. The large man crumpled to the ground, and the woman turned towards the colonel.
O'Neill shook his head at her but made no protest. He quickly joined Teal'c on the ground. Daniel, who'd up until then kept silent, spoke up, "You don't have to do this...Sam and I will take them back with us. We'll convince our people there is no reason for us to return here before they can wake up...we can get all the information abou-" The woman raised her hand to him and his words faded away.
Carter backed herself into the far corner of the room. She bit back the pleas and cries which threatened to burst from her mouth and faced the pulsing, brown jewel as quietly as Teal'c. Her reaction was the only thing she had any control over, and she refused to give into the terror she felt.
Traiyana of Kylanar disliked what she'd been forced to do to the strangers. They were not the enemy, only explorers who for one reason or another had wandered onto her world and by their very presence threatened the safety and well-being of the Kylanarians. If it were within her power, she would once again have returned them to their world, but they'd shown even with their minds wiped they could find their way back again. The one called O'Neill had made it plain they would never be content to stay this way. They would always return looking for their past and for answers she could not allow them to find. Sooner or later their comings and goings would attract the gods, and her people would be lost. That could not be permitted.
She slipped the device off of her hand and surveyed her handiwork. Others slipped into the room. She turned to Darail. He gave her an understanding nod and a small smile. He had disagreed with the decision to use the device, but he would stand by her nonetheless. She nodded her thanks and then frowned down at the bodies.
"He cannot remain," Darail said motioning to the Jaffa. "We will never be able to convince him what he carries within him is natural to our people...we must kill him or send him away."
Traiyana nodded. She had held her voice and eyes steady when she'd threatened the prisoners, but murder was not something she or her people would find acceptable. "The Circle, then." She turned to some of the men awaiting her orders and said, "Send him with a week's provision of water and food through the Circle. Not to the place they came from. Find some other combination that will open and send him there. If he cannot find his way back to where he came from, he cannot bring others back with him." It was the best she could do.
She motioned a young, pregnant woman forward. "Talyn, pick one of them," she told her. "It will be hard to keep it from him, but he must always believe this is where he belongs. That he is your husband and the father of your children. You must let go of the memories of Rutar and accept him into your lives as though he has always been the man with whom you share your life. Otherwise..." she let the words hang between. Things had not been easy for Talyn since the death of Rutar. Everyone did what they could to keep her and her child fed and clothed, but it was a hardship for the whole village. This would be, Traiyana hoped, a good solution for all of them. Provide Talyn and her children with a husband and father and their village with more able workers. If only the strangers would accept their place among them.
"I...must I do this?" the young woman asked. She didn't hide her despair at the prospect of replacing her husband with one of these strangers, but Traiyana did not yield to her plea.
"Choose, Talyn, quickly. Before I must put them under again. Choose, take one of them home, and burn his clothing. When he awakens, send for me. I will have an answer for him as to why he remembers nothing." Reluctantly, Talyn nodded toward the younger of the two men. Men took hold of him and carried him off to what he must come to believe was his home. Talyn turned to her.
"What shall I call him? I won't call him after Rutar. I won't."
"No. No, of course not," Traiyana agreed. They wear their names on their clothing. His is Jackson. Let's at least leave them that much." Talyn bowed her head in acknowledgement and somberly followed the men to her home.
"These two then, Traiyana?" her husband asked.
"We'll join them together."
"Are you sure that is wise, Healer?" one of the others asked. "Surely, it would be better to separate them."
"Wise? Perhaps not. But they should not wake to their emptiness alone. There is no one else to take them. I believe it is safer to do it this way than to send them through the Circle. Here we determine what they relearn. We tell them who they are, what their lives mean. I have decided. This is how it will be." She watched the men carry the pair out, knowing all that needed to be done would be done. She sighed.
Darail stepped to her side and stood beside her. She was grateful for his support and his presence. Deceit and violence were not part of the job description of the village healer, but they had fallen to her anyway. There was no one else willing to make the decisions to protect their lives against the danger they all feared would follow the intruders through the Circle. To every generation there was given one leader to step up and stand in the gap between the light and the darkness. She'd discovered to her dismay that she was the one. It did not sit lightly on her shoulders.
"What will you tell them then? When they awakened confused and robbed of all they were?"
She threw him a beseeching glance but did not reprimand him. If the position she found herself in was not one she felt comfortable in, how much worse for Darail who had bound himself to a healer and found himself instead the husband of the village leader; who had sought a wife to warm his bed, share his heart, and mother his children and instead found himself having to be the conscience of the king.
She shrugged. "Food poisoning, perhaps? Or a toxic pocket of gas they were exposed to in the caves? Does it matter? They will have only our word to go on. If we all assure them the explanation is reasonable, how will they know otherwise?"
"So you really believe that others they left behind will not follow them here?"
"It doesn't matter. Let them come. They will find nothing to alert them we are here. We've eliminated the problem," she assured him with far more confidence than she felt. She would have sworn this first group of travelers would have found nothing as well.