PART SIX
Water, lapping languidly at the beach only a few feet away, was drowned out by her thrumming pulse, while the distant sounds of celebration faded completely. Somehow, Sam's hands ended up anchored in his hair as she angled her mouth to receive his kiss, match it and then beat it for fervour. He smelled of soap and man, an indefinable scent that only heightened her need for more. God! She wanted him. She also wanted to kick his ass, but that impulse was being channelled elsewhere and the tight coil in her belly happily transformed itself from anger into arousal.
He was heavy, but the sand shifted beneath her back to accommodate them. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she twisted to manipulate him fully into the cradle of her pelvis. That done, she moaned long and low when the bulge of his arousal settled exactly where she craved it. Legs tightening in an automatic response, she tried to clamp down on the spears of want that shot out from that contact. Meanwhile, he swept deep, plumbing her willing mouth while the stubble on his jaw rasped against her skin. She met him, sliding and twining her tongue around his, blindly egging him on and already aware that it wasn't enough.
She wanted more. No, she wanted it all; to hear him beg and return the favour until they both couldn't take it anymore. A part of her was aghast at the sudden madness that had deluged her common sense, obliterating it in short order, but it was a small part and easily silenced. Now, pure want tore into her with razor sharp talons and Sam whimpered, writhing against him.
His leaving was shockingly abrupt. One moment, he was a wonderful weight bearing her down and the next she was left adrift on a sea of confused, desperate need. His explosive, "Crap!" brought her head round to stare at him lying beside her.
The question burst out before she could stop it, "Why did you stop?"
O'Neill swore and covered his face with both hands before jerking upright to sit up. His brief, seething glance was full of incredulity. "Are you nuts?!" Then he closed his eyes and looked away shaking his head, "Forget I asked. Damn! You probably don't even know who your kissing, or care?"
That rather offensive statement didn't get a chance to be fully assimilated before he got to his feet and, snagging her elbow, dragged her up, too. "C'mon," he ordered gruffly, "you and Daniel need to sleep this off, pronto!"
"Hey!" she protested, yanking her arm free, "You kissed me, remember?"
She stopped, refusing to budge another inch and he turned back around, frustration etched on his face. "Okay, fine, you, Daniel and I need to sleep this off." Having said that, O'Neill gave an exaggerated bow and gestured her to precede him. "Now, will you get moving?"
Teal'c had followed Dr. Carter when she didn't return directly to the group, but instead skirted around them to proceed down the beach. Leaving Daniel Jackson with King Tauman, he kept her in sight and relaxed when she stopped to speak with O'Neill. Seeking a vantage point where he could keep all three of his Tauri comrades in sight, he ruminated on the pitfalls of being human, and there where many. Freedom from their dependence on the goa'uld symbiotes would come with a price for the Jaffa, he realised, if that joyous occasion ever materialised; chiefly, they would be susceptible to substances that could induce erratic and questionable behaviour in even the most sedate of people.
Dr. Carter's participation in the native dancing had surprised him. Before now, she seemed to carry within her a warrior's spirit. Finding out that it went hand-in-hand with a playful, inquisitive mind revealed under the influence of said substance was interesting, as was O'Neill's reaction to her actions. Teal'c understood and approved of his discomfort with having half of his team all but disabled. As a warrior and one-time leader of men himself, he could 'relate' as they would say. To him, O'Neill's reaction was appropriate; however, he was old enough to recognise there was another element to the man's anger, and that was before they began to do battle right there on the sand.
Taken aback, an eyebrow climbed as Teal'c tried to establish the cause of the altercation, only to feel the brow rise higher when it ended in a heated embrace. The Tauri were definitely an interesting race, he thought, as he discreetly turned his back on the couple entangled on the sand. Strangely, he could not find it within him to judge them harshly. He remembered all too well how such things can light a conflagration even when one fought to keep the embers dampened down. Shoving his own past back to the recesses of his mind where it belonged, Teal'c accepted that the passion and fire necessary to stand up to the goa'uld would come with some negatives. The Tauri had both in abundance if his team-mates were any indication.
Friends not team-mates, he amended, watching Daniel Jackson stagger towards him, calling his name as if they were brothers. Going to join the man whose beloved wife he had consigned to hell, Teal'c conceded that loyalty and forgiveness were other attributes his adopted friends displayed and, of that, he also approved and deeply appreciated.
Taking all of that into consideration, having to stand watch over them every once in a while was acceptable.
Sam felt like the world's biggest idiot—ever. Lying on a woven pallet on the floor of the hut, she was deeply grateful for the darkness that hid her manic blushes. What the hell had gotten into her? She never acted so…so…impulsive, foolish, rash, mindless. The list was endless as she continued to berate herself. That dumb dance had been bad enough, but what had she been thinking to confront the Colonel like that? What he must think of her now didn't bear thinking about. Unfortunately, she didn't seem capable of thinking of anything else.
She could just picture his glee as he typed out his report and handed it to General Hammond. Yeesh, she'd be lucky to be allowed to test the Stargate in the future, never mind step through it to go on missions.
Tension knotted in her belly and she flopped over onto her back with a puffed out sigh. It was beginning to feel like she was stuck in a nightmare where everywhere she turned, she came across a distorted image of herself, like fairground funhouse mirrors. Damn! This so wasn't what she'd envisaged when she'd joined the SGC. Then, she'd fantasised about wowing everyone with her professionalism, dedication, problem solving abilities and technical knowledge. She'd planned on being indispensable and not making waves.
God! Where had she gone wrong? Oh yeah, Colonel O'Neill.
It was true that he'd kissed her though and, if memory served, Daniel had been looking a little worse for wear when she and the Colonel had caught up with him and Teal'c. Did that excuse her making such an exhibition of herself, or for attacking the man who was essentially her commanding officer, sort of?
She didn't think so, and either way, she had a lot of explaining to do. The problem was she didn't know where to start. It was all a bit hazy. She'd been thirsty when they finished the trek back to the village, and when she'd asked for water she'd been brought some of the juice they'd been preparing for the feast. From the moment she'd drained the cup and asked for another, Sam had been riding an almost drugged euphoric high. Great, wonderful, just what she'd needed. Wouldn't Dad be proud?
Tired of the mental gymnastics that refused to offer up any helpful solutions, Sam gave up on sleep and sat up, hugging her knees tight to her chest. Being back in her uniform, minus the jacket, was a huge relief and she was grudgingly grateful for O'Neill's insistence that she change. She glanced towards his sleeping form, curled up on his side with his back to her. A foot away, Daniel was sprawled on his back, arms out-slung and giving out an occasional long snore. As for Teal'c, he was sitting straight-backed and appeared oblivious, sunk deep into his ritual kel-no-reem.
Searching for a distraction that wouldn't risk disturbing them, she recalled the device she'd found and eagerly reached out to grasp her backpack. Examining it by torchlight wasn't the most desired of circumstances, but it was better than sitting here going stir-crazy over things she couldn't change.
It looked innocuous on her palm and just like the 'pebble' Colonel O'Neill had labelled it. Then, as if it had been waiting only for the warmth of her skin, it began to hum. During the microsecond it took for her hand to obey her brain and drop it, the device emitted a high-pitched noise and a brilliant white light enveloped her.
Sam flung it away and scrambled back, feeling crisp, dry earth under her fingers. In the afterglow of that blinding flash, she saw it land amongst some tree roots. Tree roots? Jerking her head around, she gaped in disbelief. She wasn't in the hut anymore, but in the forest. How? A few feet away the flames of a fire flickered and spat, lighting the clearing she found herself in. The fire must have been lit by the person who had brought her here, Sam reasoned. Despite the firelight, it was too dark to see more than some vague shapes.
"So much for my thinking it's a communicator," she muttered to herself, getting up and dusting off her hands.
"It serves that function, too," advised a voice from behind her.
Sam whirled, reaching for her sidearm before realising it was still beside her pallet in the hut. Unarmed, she was left only with bravado. Lifting her chin, she demanded, "Who are you?"
"I am known as Janth," he told her, "and you are Samantha Carter, yes?"
He was in his late sixties and held himself with dignity. Pale hands were clasped over a long, dark tunic that reached almost to the forest floor. He was a dramatic figure, and with his grey hair set off by a widow's peak, he only needed a long flowing beard to give him a wizard-ish look. As he introduced himself, he gave a stately bow.
Pale blue eyes regarded her solemnly from under thick grey brows. Keeping a wary eye on him, she frowned, asking, "How do you know my name?"
"I have heard it spoken," he told her and then waved it off, "I will return to that later, if you do not mind. I have things I wish to tell you and am unsure of how much time is left."
Inexplicably, chills roughened her skin into goose-bumps while she tried to figure out how this man might have heard her name. Her logical, analytical side insisted he must have been picking up their radio transmissions; either that or the device had been active from the moment she'd found it. Whichever, or whatever was the answer, she wasn't going to get at it if she didn't agree to listen. Besides that, curiosity began to override alarm. More importantly, this man appeared a far better candidate for disabling a Stargate than the Tahatan's. This odd meeting could be the breakthrough they needed to get home.
While she mulled this over, Janth moved over to the fire, ostensibly keeping his distance and then folded himself into sitting cross-legged on the ground. Marvelling at his nimbleness, Sam mimicked him. "So, Janth, what's so urgent that you brought me here, or should I say teleported me here?"
He gave a slight smile, "Teleported is an adequate description," he agreed. "It was once my people's most common method of travel from one point to another and, as you surmised, communication. Still is for those if us here."
She filed away the fact that he was not alone, and said a little stiffly, "A little warning of what you were going to do wouldn't have gone amiss, Janth."
"That would have been the polite thing to do, I agree." Janth conceded with an apologetic grimace. "And my sincere apologies if you were startled. My excuse is that I was concerned that you might delay your agreement. You are in danger, Sam Carter, as are all of your friends," Janth warned without preamble. "I have acted this way in order to prevent another tragedy."
Sam stared at him over the flickering orange and gold flames, "From who exactly? Your people or those things we encountered today?"
Sadness, as thick as a shroud, descended over the figure opposite her, "Those 'things' as you call them are my people. You killed two of my oldest friends today."
Unwillingly, Daniel swam back to consciousness, but only after the hand shaking his shoulder refused to heed his protesting moans and inaccurately swatting hand. Between the throbbing between his ears and the churning of his guts, it took some more vigorous shaking for him to actually crack open his eyelids.
Though blurred and glimpsed through mere slits, he still recognised Teal'c as his tormentor. "Tell, Jack, I'm taking the day off," he muttered and went to roll over. It was a bad mistake, as he soon found out when his abdomen seriously resented the pressure and let him know it in no uncertain terms.
He immediately rolled back with a groan, "Oh, crap! I think I'm gonna to be sick."
"There is no time to be sick, Daniel Jackson" advised Teal'c grimly. "Dr. Carter is missing and O'Neill appears to be gravely ill."
Reddened,bloodshot blue eyes made a longer appearance. "Sam's missing?" he asked as if hoping he'd misheard, "And how sick is sick?" Considering the lack of consideration he was getting, Daniel had a sinking feeling 'gravely ill' to a Jaffa was his idea of a death bed.
"I witnessed Dr. Carter disappear into thin air," said Teal'c, apparently uncaring of how unlikely that statement sounded "When I attempted to wake O'Neill to advise him of this, I noticed his body-heat is far in excess of normal; I was unsuccessful in awakening him."
"Help me up," Daniel demanded and held out a hand for the Jaffa to assist him to his feet.
Staggering over to Jack's pallet, he fell heavily to his knees beside it and bit back another groan when his head responded with an extra painful throb. He didn't need to touch him to know something was seriously wrong with Jack. His face was beaded with sweat, as was his hair and the visible portion of his t-shirt. Still, more as a ritual than anything else, he laid the back of his hand against that damp forehead, grimacing at the heat he could feel even before their skin made contact.
"Okay," he puffed out, "I need to get some meds into Jack to try and get the temperature down. Meanwhile you do what you can to find out where Sam's gone." He waved at the hut's doorway, "Do a perimeter search or something."
Hesitating, the Jaffa looked for a moment like he wanted to protest, but then he inclined his head, saying, "I will be back shortly. Do what you can for O'Neill."
There was a stunned pause. "Your people?" Sam echoed disbelievingly. "How is that possible? They weren't even human." She didn't touch the second part of his incredible statement.
"They were once," Janth countered, "and still are to some degree. Although less over the years since we were banished here."
"Excuse me," she queried, "banished?"
"If you have the patience to listen to an old man rambling, I will you how that came to pass.
"Well, sure, ramble away. I'm all ears." What else could she say?
He smiled, a sad distant curve if his lips, "Do not worry, I will endeavour to keep it short." Then an undeniably charming sparkle entered his eyes, "However, I should warn you it has been a long time since I have been able to converse with such a beautiful, intelligent person as yourself."
Never having learned the art of taking compliments well, Sam gave an uncomfortable smile and didn't reply, thankful when he continued without benefit of one.
"Also, I will start at the beginning to avoid confusion later." He paused to gather his thoughts. "A long time ago, my planet suffered through an epidemic that threatened our whole society." He waved a hand, "The disease was not fatal, but it did leave the body incapable of healing itself, or allowing the blood from a minor wound to clot. Hundred of thousands died from simple falls that should have been nothing more than a nuisance."
"I'm sorry," Sam interjected, feeling his pain despite herself. "We have a similar disorder on my planet. Although, for us it's a genetic disease and not a communicable one."
He inclined his head in acceptance of her sympathy. "We were an advanced culture as you will have guessed. I was a part of the medical teams assigned to finding a cure; however, despite our efforts we could not find one. A vaccine was eventually produced, but by then it was too late for a large percentage of our people."
That pale gaze turned inward, his thoughts visibly travelling to the past, "I worked day and night for many years. In the end I was desperate. My children were at risk, you see, and that desperation was my undoing." His voice turned heavy with self-recrimination. "In the last year, I performed several experiments that my leaders had already assessed and deemed too dangerous; they forbade me to perform them. An instruction I ignored."
"Genetic experiments?" Sam hazarded, not at all sure that she believed what she was hearing. Genetically splicing a mythical animal with human DNA was outside the realm of sanity, surely? She wondered if she was dreaming and actually pinched herself surreptitiously. It didn't work.
Janth refocused back on her, and said, "If you mean the manipulation of cells containing all information pertaining to life, then, precisely."
With that clarified, he continued. "Long ago in our most ancient history, there was a creature that some came to believe a mere myth. Still, stories abounded about it; I was only interested in some aspects, however. According to legend it had unheard of healing abilities, as well as the ability to be genetically compatible with other species. I managed to procure a quantity of… 'genetic' material from a less than reputable source. To give them credit, it turned out to be the complete code; however, I had no intention of creating a live organism, so I separated the attributes I did want—"
"Gene splicing," cut in Sam, and seeing his questioning look, she shrugged, "It's outside my field, but there's been enough progress in recent years to make it newsworthy back home."
He continued, "There was a lot more involved as this took place over many years, but to simplify matters, I will only say that, since my experiments were unsanctioned, I tried the results of my work on myself first."
Despite her scepticism, Sam's brows rose, appreciating the risk he'd taken, "I bet that was interesting," she said, and then sighed, compelled to admit bluntly, "Look, I'm not saying I don't believe you, but this all sounds a little…" she grimaced, "out there to me. Also, I really don't know why you're telling me all of this?"
He'd mentioned danger, but given she was struggling to accept any of his story, even that was losing some impact. To accept the latter, she would have to accept the former and she wasn't sure she could. The Tahatans worshipping some local predators and feeding them, inadvertently assuring the beasts stayed in the area, was a lot more feasible to her than what Janth was suggesting.
Her attempt to get him to cut to the chase was unsuccessful. "I am telling you this because I believe you to be a young woman of integrity and courage," Janth said irritably, "now, if you will let me finish you may find things become clearer."
With his precise, formal speech patterns, he reminded her of one of her more exacting college professors. Suitably reprimanded, Sam held up her hand, "Okay, you're right. Sorry! Please continue."
Sparing her an impatient glance, Janth got back to the story he was trying to recite. "My experiment appeared to work without side effects, and we widened the sample to include the dozen or so colleagues involved with me at the time." He heaved a sigh, and his hesitation suggested the story was about to get a lot darker. "I remember that time as if it were yesterday. We were so happy, certain of our success and oblivious to the outside world with its stories about monsters, murder and maiming. As soon as we felt able, we presented our findings to the medical council and it was only when we were apprehended shortly after that we realised that of which we had been unaware—"
"You were the murderers?"
He nodded sorrowfully, "Worse, our numbers had grown. I had not managed to isolate and remove the creature's ability to mix with other species through the transfer of life code into a new environment. Eventually, all of us were rounded up and banished to an isolated, unpopulated planet." His gesture took in the primal forest surrounding them. "The idea being that we would not be able to spread the problem any further."
Sam was confused, "But there's a Stargate here. Why didn't you just dial it up and leave."
"The device of which you speak was brought here by the same ships that brought the Tahatan's," Janth told her. "By then, we were fully aware of the monsters we had become and did not wish to go home."
"And the Tahatans?"
Janth's long, pale face went tight for a moment before age and despair returned. "I am ashamed to say that after we ravaged their oppressors, we developed a truly ungovernable hunger for flesh. We tried, but no other creature on the planet would suffice. Originally, I had dismissed those ancient myths as nothing more than tales to scare children." Spreading hands that shook, Janth finished, "I was wrong."
"You call that wrong?" Sam queried sharply, "Are you kidding? Try appalling, monstrous." Tossing up her hands, she exclaimed in disgust, "Janth, you have these people sacrificing themselves to you. You let them believe that you are their gods and then kill them."
Whether she believed in bizarre experiments resulting in the ability to shape-shift, or not, she'd smelled death in those caves, sensed it. Heck! Maybe these aliens were a bunch of psychos sent here so as not to cause trouble at home with their crazy beliefs about being monsters, only to find monsters already here and tame them enough to feed their delusions. That wasn't a comforting line of thought. Being as inconspicuous as possible, she did a scan of the area for possible weapons in case she needed to defend herself.
"I do not refute your accusations," he replied, "Most of the year we spend in stasis, technological cocoons that sustain us and keep us asleep, as well as preventing us from harming others. This method of surviving has kept us alive over hundreds of generations, far past the point we should have died. However, twice a year we awaken, maddened with starvation, and feed."
"You look okay to me," she shot back.
Across from her, Janth shook his head sadly, "This is not me, but a false presentation of my physical form. If I were truly with you, I would be overcome with hunger and transform into a monster. That is unacceptable to me."
"Yeah, well, that goes ditto for me," Sam, still refusing to believe, got to her feet and strode over. When she reached out to touch him, she truly expected to feel a real person, but her hand passed through him with barely a ripple. "You really are a hologram," she murmured, taken aback.
"I wish you no harm, Sam Carter."
She rubbed her brow feeling a headache brewing behind her eyes as the information he'd force fed her over the last, however many minutes whirled and refused to settle into a logic she could accept. With one hand on her hip, she held the other one up, semi-apologetically, "Shape-shifting is the stuff of horror stories, Janth, and while I love a good sci-fi as much the next gal, this is just too much for me to believe. I'm sorry."
"I tell you the truth for you to do with it as you will," he returned. "Tomorrow night is the full moon and then you will find out, at your own cost, that I speak true." He held up a hand to silence her when she would have interrupted. "I have tried to intervene and failed. This time it will be different. Paranoia and madness have distorted those I tainted with my curse. They fear the influence you may have had and do not intend to wait for a sacrifice to be offered—"
"You guys are going to attack the village, aren't you?" All of a sudden, Sam felt sick. Whether she believed the things she'd seen in the caves were people turned monsters, or simply a wild, indigenous predator, the outcome of such an attack would still be nightmarish. "That's not fair. The Tahatan's have done nothing to you except honour you. They're a peaceful people."
"So they are," he agreed, "However, now you have shown them that we can be confronted and killed."
Seeing where this was going, Sam went white, guilt preventing her from making an argument. Janth did not wait for a reply, "My brethren fear an attack while we sleep and will not be swayed from nipping such lethal notions before they can take hold."
Spinning on her heel, Sam made a beeline for the device that brought her here. "Send me back, Janth, now!"
"I will do so, Sam, however, there is one more truth that I must tell you, and you must listen."
Wondering what else he could possibly have to say, Sam turned and braced herself, saying tersely, "Go on, I'm listening."
The image of the elderly man hadn't moved. "There is a very good reason that we have forbidden entry into the caves to all but those to be sacrificed. None who enter must return, not if we are to prevent this curse from reaching out to infect the innocent."
"Is that why you disabled the Stargate?" It was a wild guess, but it made sense given what he'd already told her.
"That was done without my knowledge or permission. Unfortunately, a few of my colleagues acted out of panic, thinking more of you would arrive. I truly wish it were otherwise, because it has led to more disaster." His pause was heavy with meaning, "I'm sorry to say this to you, my dear, but you have to kill the man you call Colonel."
PART SEVEN
Sam re-materialised inside the hut and found the situation very different than the peaceful, slumbering scene she'd been yanked from. Dawn, a mere promise glimpsed through the tree canopy when she'd been talking with Janth, was clearly approaching as light filtered in through the hut's woven walls. Directly ahead, Teal'c lowered his staff weapon, rose from his defensive crouch and inclined his head to say, "It is good to see you unharmed, Dr. Carter."
Daniel, wan and pale was staring at her, blinking as he had a habit of doing when he was disconcerted, and appeared to be midway through coaxing a cupful of fluid into the Colonel. "That was some grand entrance, Sam," he deadpanned and quirked a brow, "Care to share?" His expression said what he hadn't—that he was delighted to see her.
Hearing her name spoken, glazed dark eyes opened and on seeing her, O'Neill seemed to relax a little. Daniel's prod for details barely registered. The Colonel's flushed, feverish face had her stomach clutching with fear. "What's wrong with him?" she asked, coming over after tossing the device back onto her pallet. As soon as she was able, she was going to secure it to make sure nobody else could get transported elsewhere. Hunkering down next to a kneeling Daniel, she resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.
"We're not entirely sure," Daniel admitted, getting back to the Herculean task of getting O'Neill to cooperate and drink. "I'm guessing it could be an infection from that bite earlier, but the wound looks great to me, better than great, actually." Putting the now empty cup aside, he tacked on pointedly, "He's better than he was, and I was going to say at least he's conscious, but I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that as a patient he's easier unconscious."
"I'll be fine," grumbled O'Neill with a dark look at the archaeologist for the inference. "I've had my rabies shot," he quipped, "This is just some pain in the ass bug is all."
After summarily dismissing his illness, he struggled up, shrugging off Daniel's attempt to keep him prone, and pinned Sam with a fever bright gaze that nevertheless warned her that her explanation had better be good, and fast. "Where'd' ya go?" he demanded simply.
"Uhm…" Oh Jesus! Where to start? Taking a leaf out of Janth's book, she sucked in a breath and started at the beginning. "I woke up and couldn't drift back off, so I decided to take a look at that alien device I found outside the caves." They followed her glance back the device in question. "Almost as soon I touched it, or rather, laid it on my hand, I was transported to somewhere in the forest." She paused, "And there was someone waiting for me at my destination."
Half an hour later and sitting with his back propped against a wall, Jack felt stronger, enough that he was embarrassed that he'd had to have his head held while meds were poured down his throat—twice. The trembling weakness in his limbs had subsided, but he was still feeling woozy and light-headed. Admittedly, that could just as well be due to the story Carter had just relayed. "Excuse me! Are you telling me I'm going to turn into one of those things?" He scowled, "What is this…House of Horror week?"
"According to Janth when I pressed him, there is a fifty-fifty chance. Apparently it doesn't always take, or the body fights it off and wins."
Daniel was looking blank, too blank, carefully blank. He sucked on his upper lip and then shot Sam a look. "Did this Janth look like he was…" he shrugged, "…I don't know, all there?"
"Oh come on! What kind of a dumb question is that?" jumped in Jack, "Of course the guy was a wacko!"
"Hey! I'm not saying any of this is true. I reacted and thought the same way you are now." Carter spread her hands and gave Jack a direct, challenging look, "I'm not necessarily buying into any of this, just passing it on as it was told to me, okay."
In other words, don't shoot the messenger; Jack wouldn't normally, but he still hadn't forgiven her for the twenty minutes or so of hell she'd given him when he'd become cognizant enough to be told she'd been zapped off to God knows where. The relief he'd felt seeing her standing there, all bright and disgustingly chipper, had been almost as debilitating as the damn fever. Adamantly, he said, "There is nothing freakishly supernatural about me getting sick. Despite having the constitution of an ox, it does happen occasionally."
"Teal'c, you know better than we do about the kinds of technology that are out there," said Daniel, bringing the Jaffa into the debate, "Have you ever heard of anything like this?"
All attention swung his way. Sitting cross-legged with his staff weapon laid across his lap, Teal'c's dark eyes turned inward. Moments later, he shook his head, "I can think of no such ability in any of the races with which Apophis engaged in battle. Indeed, if such an ability was known to the goa'uld, they would have been seeking it with great fervour."
"In other words, no," summed up Jack with deep satisfaction, and in a small part of himself, incredible relief. "That settles it. The guy was definitely a few—"
"Not necessarily, Colonel," Carter interrupted.
He didn't let her, "When I start scratching behind my ears and chasing my tail, among other things, feel free to do whatever you feel is necessary," he bit out. "Until then, Doc, we'll go with the assumption that werewolves, vampires, and any of the other things that supposedly go bump in the night are pure fallacy, okay?"
She didn't back down, "I was merely going to say that we shouldn't underestimate the threat to the village, and ourselves, from Janth's colleagues. If nothing else they could have advanced weapons and maybe a few more of those creatures at their command."
There was an uncomfortable pause. Jack felt like an idiot for biting her head off. "Oh, well, in that case, sure. I agree."
"We should inform King Tauman of the threat to his people," pointed out Teal'c. "And offer our assistance in defending the village."
"I agree," said Daniel, taking his glasses off to tiredly rub at his eyes, "And isn't that going to go down well?"
Daniel Jackson was wrong. Unless of course, and as Teal'c suspected, he had meant the opposite when he'd suggested the news of an attack would be well received. The Tauri, he noted, had an almost compulsive urge to complicate simple matters, in their speech particularly. This habit of saying one thing while meaning another had initially confused and, secretly, irritated him, but less so now as he recognised it as a mechanism for gathering the strength necessary to perform a difficult task. He would meditate. O'Neill and Dr Jackson would use sarcasm. He found a Tauri phrase to suit—each to their own.
Standing close enough to O'Neill to assist if he stumbled, without appearing to expect such an occurrence, he watched the tattooed priest who had returned while they slept, whirl about, ranting and gesticulating wildly. In his opinion the man needed retraining, and possibly gagging, but he made no move towards him. Free speech was a concept foreign to him, but not to O'Neill who, despite appearing to wish he could take forcible action, would not do so except to respond to a direct threat.
There was honour in that and Teal'c respected it.
Finally the priest wound down enough for Dr Jackson to attempt to placate the agitated gathering. The whole community had turned up for this meeting, held in the centre of the village while the morning sun began its climb up the sky. Scanning faces, huts, trees and the small part of the beach he could see with its azure water, Teal'c recalled his first impression of this planet being that it was a paradise. He'd been wrong and appearances were dangerously deceptive.
They needed to leave here and if an attack on the village drew enough of the beasts from their lair to be killed, then all well and good. It would make an attempt to find and retrieve the missing crystal much easier. Teal'c wished no harm on these people and would do his utmost to prevent any from happening, but he was still aware of the necessity of repairing the DHD.
Of course, that was assuming they would prevail in such a battle. The myth that the beasts had defeated and killed a goa'uld, and his or her Jaffa, was not reassuring. The outcome would depend on numerous factors; how many of the beasts there were left and any weapons that Janth's people possessed, just as Dr. Carter had suggested. He sought her out and caught her watching O'Neill with worried eyes. Turning his head, O'Neill caught her too and, flushing, she jerked her gaze elsewhere. O'Neill appeared unable to follow suit as swiftly.
Eyebrow rising at the byplay, he tuned back in to the meeting. He had been paying enough attention to keep abreast of developments and was aware that Dr Jackson had made little headway in convincing the Tahatans to stand up to their false gods. Tauman was stricken into silence at having welcomed strangers into their midst, ones who had soon after brought doom to his people. There was weeping amongst the women; children who would usually be full of curiosity and laughter were subdued and visibly afraid.
The men were afraid as well, but as usually happened, that fear was turning into anger directed at the wrong outlet. The priest spun on Dr Jackson, getting too close. O'Neill and Dr. Carter reacted instantly, bringing up their weapons to defend him if necessary. The decision to intercede was not made lightly, but having made it, he acted on it immediately.
"You sacrifice your old people, and the crippled, to false gods." His voice carried effortlessly over the rest. "Do you not realise that all of you are already marked for death? Who among you can say that you will never fall into either group?"
There was silence. Then the priest stood at his full height and with the fire of a zealot clear in his eyes, said, "Tangola made us with his own hands. We are his from our first breath and our death sustains him. The young and healthy live without fear as long as that cycle remains unbroken and we observe custom."
"You lie," Teal'c countered baldly, "How can you not fear the first signs of age to appear on your face and bodies, or a fall that damages you?"
Dismissively, he turned from the priest and addressed King Tauman, "You are all slaves and if you ever want to be free you must listen to my friends." Seeing the first glimmer of hope in that elderly face, the only one in the village, Teal'c offered up something of himself to strengthen it. "I, too, once worshipped a false god that enslaved my people. I am free and yet my people are not because they are afraid. Even so, I fight to free them even now."
"We can help you," Daniel Jackson inserted earnestly.
"If you let us," added Dr. Carter.
"Gods cannot die!" The priest all but howled.
"Exactly, you moron," O'Neill snapped, "Those things bleed and die. We killed two of 'em down there. What does that tell you about your so-called gods?"
Having all said their piece, they had no choice but to wait for a judgement. They didn't have to wait long. King Tauman rose to his feet, graceful despite his age and walked into the centre to stand in front of O'Neill. Shifting uncomfortably, the Tauri commander nevertheless returned his solemn gaze. "What you say about the gods hurts and saddens me, Colonel Jack," he said softly. "But only because I have sent many beloved ones down to the marae, believing they were returning to their creator."
"You didn't know otherwise," returned O'Neill, "But now you do, don't you?"
"You will stand with us against the demons?"
"They're not demons," O'Neill stated unequivocally, "just big fur balls with teeth and, yeah, we'll stand with you."
The air itself seemed to tremble on the edge of a precipice. King Tauman nodded, "Then we will make a stand," he slid a glance towards Teal'c, "and fight for our freedom."
Teal'c bowed his head, acknowledging the courage it took to turn your back on a lifetime of belief, shaken at times or not.
They discussed the option of simply tossing a few grenades into the cave mouth. It would certainly have been the easiest and safest option. The problem was they needed that crystal now more than ever following a report from a regretful General Hammond that their attempts to procure crystals had failed. Without knowing precisely which one it was that had been taken, they needed them all and removing them shut down the wormhole. In other words, they were on their own.
The good news was that they were able to send a list of requested supplies— chiefly ammo and explosives, more grenades, claymores and C4, and surprisingly to General Hammond, pick axes, spades and various other tools.
Trained reinforcements would have been nice, but in the absence of a guarantee of returning home, Jack didn't even ask.
SG-1 and the village men dug pits, lots of them, with sharpened stakes hammered into the bottom. The sounds of chopping wood, staff blasts to create craters in the ground and implements hitting the earth rang out a cacophony of industry. The women and children gathered firewood until there were mountains of sticks threatening to topple. In between that task, they fetched and carried water to the thirsty. Other men skilled in the art of tool making, made fresh spear heads and poles to attach them to, as well as sharpened the pile of machetes at their feet.
Dosed up with Penicillin, Jack did a final check of the stakes at the bottom of one pit. Satisfied the trap was as deadly as it was supposed to be, he grasped the rope that would let him climb out. Aware that if he fell back he'd get impaled, he ignored the sweat pouring down his back and the trembling weakness in his arms, and monotonously hauled himself up, only to be met near the top by a strong, female hand. She'd done that a few times during the day and always just when he wasn't sure if his strength was going to last out.
Grasping it, he let Carter take his weight and felt himself effortlessly pulled to safety. The move caused them to brush up close for a second before they could step apart. Feeling the imprint of that supple body long after they separated, Jack took the water bottle she offered him and thanked her with a short nod.
Blue eyes, bright, brisk and with only a trace of concern watched him take a long draught of the refreshing water. "I've rigged up a series of claymores around the outer perimeter," she told him. "And set up the C4 just inside in case we miss any, which we probably will given they're unlikely to attack in groups."
He squinted into the lowering sun, vaguely surprised that dusk was falling. "Are the women and kids inside?"
She nodded, completely unaware that her gold hair shone like an angel. Moreover, an angel with a light dusting of fresh freckles over her nose after catching the sun. Tamping down an urge to tip up her chin and count them, Jack felt a flush rise up from his neck and turned away to hide it, pretending he was checking on the rest of the village.
He obviously hadn't hid it fast enough. "Are you okay, Colonel?" she asked.
Turning back with a sigh, he said, "I'm fine. Stop your fretting." Handing over the bottle, he followed his next impulse, "And call me Jack."
He'd surprised her. Their eyes met and he could clearly see the light of astonishment, followed by pleasure come into hers. "Thank you. I will," she said and unwittingly bestowed a smile on him that had his heart tripping. God! She was one gorgeous woman, and strong, capable, smart, courageous and passionate, particularly about saving lives. He'd been an ass to pre-judge her like her had.
"Good." Uncomfortable with the sense of something growing, swelling between them, he nodded and left it that.
She felt it too and jerked a thumb towards the village proper. "Well, I'd probably better…"
"Yeah, you go ahead, I'll be along shortly." He'd follow when their kiss, the one that scorched him from the top of his head right down to his toes, stopped trying to do a rerun in his head.
She gave him another smile, briefer if no less potent and turned to go.
Watching her go, he had no idea what possessed him to blurt out, "West deserved an ass-kicking."
She halted and spun back, "Excuse me?"
Eyes wide, she looked like she was struggling to believe he'd said that about a superior officer. He could have told her he could give her a run for her money on not following orders and insubordination. He shrugged, trying to pass off the moment as less important and ground breaking than it was. "The Air Force lost a fine officer when you resigned. I just wanted you to know I see that now." Pausing, he grimaced, "For a while, actually, I was just too much of a stubborn dumbass to admit it."
She reached for composure, found it and cloaked herself, but didn't try and hide how moved she was. He admired her even more for that. He was a coward when it came to emotions. "That means a great deal to me, Jack," she said, the words having more impact for being simple and unvarnished. "Thank you."
The scream was so unexpected, and alien to the emotions currently charging the air between them, it took a second to sink in. Sam went pale, "Did you—?"
"Yeah," he confirmed, "C'mon."
Together they sprinted towards where the sound had come from. Jack was cursing and praying they hadn't been misled about Janth's monsters preferring the dark of night. Pelting across the centre of the village and skirting the hut full of women and children, they caught up with Daniel.
"Any idea what the problem is?" he asked him.
Daniel just shook his head and they carried on. "Be careful of the explosives," Sam shouted over to them both as they approached the tree line opposite, "Let me lead."
Dropping back to let her do exactly that, it wasn't long before they arrived at the point where everyone had gathered. They approached from the opposite side and found that everyone was staring up at a tree, at something that could only be seen once they rounded the twisted trunk. Teal'c was already there and for once he wasn't impassive. The grim expression on that tight, dark face gave Jack the heebie-jeebies more than the scream had done.
Oh crap! What now?
They rounded the tree together. "What is it?" he asked Teal'c and looked at the same time. What he saw pole-axed him. "God, No!"
Daniel began to retch. Sinking to her knees, Sam gave a moan of distress. Tula's lifeless, bloodied body was roped to the tree that lay directly in the path from the cave to the village. It was like seeing a flame wink out. In death the little girl had found horror and it remained in sightless eyes staring out of a waxen face.
"The body has been mauled to look like one of the creatures killed her," said Teal'c in a monotone. "Perhaps the killer wanted us to think they are already here and we cannot see them, hence undermining our attempts to convince the villagers they are not gods, or demons."
"Either that or they wanted to leave a placatory message for the creatures. After all, Tula was with us inside the caves. She saw what we did." Face tight with rage and oblivious to the streaming tears that made tracks down her cheeks, Sam rose to her feet with both fists clenched. "I'm going to kill that bastard. I swear, he'll feel every second of the same pain and fear he inflicted on that innocent girl."
Jack felt the same rage suffuse him. It didn't take a genius to guess who was responsible. Only one of the Tahatans had spent the day performing rituals, eyes burning with hatred as he watched the village prepare to defend itself. The priest must have decided a stronger approach had to be taken.
Sick sonavabitch!
Sam was shaking, no, vibrating with murderous wrath. He understood, but now wasn't the time. "Cut her down and wrap her in something," he ordered Teal'c, and then grasped Sam's shoulder to force her to look at him and not the dead child. He had to shake her once to achieve that aim.
"Sam!" he demanded, voice sharper than he would have liked.
Blue eyes swimming with horror and baffled rage latched onto his. "We saved her, didn't we?"
His throat went tight, "You did."
"For this?" her voice cracked, asking him to help her understand
Everything that had happened the day before had come about because of her determination to protect a child from monsters waiting in the dark. None of them had known that another horror waited for the kid in her own village. The sense of uselessness, fate and failure was exactly what the bastard had wanted them to feel; Jack would have sworn to it.
"We're not psychic, Sam. None of us knew he'd even come back, never mind had this planned," he told her. "If we had, he'd be dead now and Tula would be safe with her parents."
She was stiff as a board under his hands and he wondered if she'd splinter apart if he let her go. Bitterness flooded her face, "Shit happens, right?" Then shaking herself, she stepped back and his arms dropped.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked her in all seriousness.
"I'm fine," she lied. "And I'll be even better when all of this is over." She met his concerned gaze squarely, "For the record, I'm warning upfront that I won't be leaving here until he's dead."
She didn't say, by my hand, but it was inferred. Nodding, Jack didn't tell her over his dead body. Defending yourself in battle was a galaxy away from murder, even when it was justified. He knew that from personal experience. He also knew she hadn't come across that particular darkness yet, and didn't intend for her to find it here; he'd kill the bastard himself first.
Tula was gone, carried in Teal'c's arms. Leaning down to grab Daniel's arm, Jack hauled him up and included both of them when he said, "C'mon, kids, like it or hate it we've got a battle to finish preparing for. Justice will have to wait a little longer."
TBC