Chapter 4

Teal'c looked over the destruction of his home with a face of stone. His god had done this. Apophis had done this. Because Teal'c's son had dared to be gifted with the power of the gods.

"Rya'c is safe. As is his mother." Teal'c did not turn or acknowledge the voice of his mentor. His home was burning. Finally, after a moment of silence, he spoke.

"The power of Apophis comes in a jewel upon his hand. My son's power comes from within. It is Apophis who is false." He felt his symbiote stirring within his stomach pouch and had to resist the urge to plunge his hand into the pouch and pull the snake from its depths. He had to nurture the snake or he would die. He had seen the death that awaited the end of his symbiote on the day Cronos reached into his father's prim'tah to crush the Goa'uld larva within. If Apophis had succeeded in the murder of his son, Teal'c wondered if he would have done it anyway. Probably not. First he would have needed revenge.

"Come Teal'c, before they return," Bra'tac insisted and finally Teal'c moved. Apophis had not succeeded. Forewarned, his family had fled.

"We will take them to Ra," Bra'tac continued, "He accepts those who hold the inner power."

"I will not save my son from one false god to give him to another," Teal'c answered firmly.

"No," Bra'tac agreed, "But it's a place to start. Hide him among Ra's people; they are used to the power and will not spurn you. I have spies among them." After deep consideration, Teal'c had to concede to his mentor's plan.

"I will take them to Abydos," he said, "But I will not submit to Ra's rule."

"Just worry about getting your family to the gate," Bra'tac insisted, "I will get you passage through the Chappa'ai. After that you are on your own."

''''''''''''''''''

Daniel had never liked cover stones. They were generally large and heavy with the weight of phantom blood that had nothing to do with the stone's memories and everything to do with Daniel's own. This stone was no exception. Beneath the crushing weight of Cheyenne mountain, locked within depths so deep that Daniel still needed a calming pill to reach the bottom, it sat alone, its mysteries inscribed down its surface awaiting the one who could finally understand.

Daniel stared at the inscription with the intensity of finely honed senses. Not even the stench of remembered blood could overcome his concentration once he was in deep enough. Now only the symbols danced within his head, replaying themselves over and over. He had seen them before.

He knew he had seen them, somewhere, but for once his perfect memory failed him. They weren't Egyptian hieroglyphs, despite the rest of the writing in the stone, yet they were familiar. Lightly, he reached out with his hands, trying to gather a picture of the stone's essence, of the carvers from long ago. The memory was long; the stone remembered sand and wind and sand again. Daniel got a brief image of a metallic ring, hovering like a ghost beyond the cover stone.

He had gotten that before, the first time he touched the stone. No one had mentioned a ring to him, and long standing caution kept him from mentioning it. Either they had this ring and didn't want him to know, or they didn't. Either way, speaking would not help. The ring did not help with his translation, despite the way it provided new glyphs, whispering over his vision in brief flashes. Like the glyphs on the cover stone they were familiar. And like these glyphs they were utterly unfathomable.

Once more Daniel closed his eyes, as he had for the last two weeks, and tried to run them through his head, like a computer seeking familiarity in the shapes. He ran them by all the languages he had learned, seeking similarities, but so far he had had no luck. Those images that did appear similar were too scattered, giving only the illusion of knowledge without any practical applicability.

"Stargate…" he whispered, feeling something ancient and utterly alien emanating from the stone, "Stargate…" Finally, he lowered his head in weary frustration. He felt close, so close, like if he just turned slightly and reached out he'd have it. He was missing something up close and obvious. Turning away abruptly, he went for the coffee. Absently he noted that it was the middle of the night. He should be going to bed, not drinking more coffee; he should be refreshing his mind for a new look at the puzzle. Instead, he reached for the coffee pot, only to find it was empty.

Blearily he stretched, considered defeat, and then took up the empty pot to fill it with water from a nearby fountain, nodding absently towards one of the ever present guards. This one was obviously bored, reading a paper with only half an eye out for trespassers. Daniel glanced towards the paper as he waited for the coffee pot to fill then turned away, only to turn back again. For one brief second, he had thought he had seen one of the symbols. He didn't see it now, only a series of star constellations, something to do with the zodiac he thought. Then he blinked and something clicked.

Forgetting about coffee, letting the water slosh carelessly he leapt towards the paper for a closer look. The stumbling sleepiness from before left him as his limbs filled with the fresh excitement of discovery. He was halfway into the room, grasping the paper before him before he realized he had just snatched it out of the bored guard's hands. He turned back with a befuddled apology, not even waiting for the guard's permission to keep it before he ran back towards the glyphs. It all made sense, the puzzle pieces shifting in his mind to fit together at last. It was all in the stars. A star gate.

'''''''''''''''''''''

Senator Kinsey watched the news with a barely contained scorn. The media had leapt upon the mutant phenomenon with gluttonous lust, devouring every angle with all the finesse of a ravenous hyena. Scientists came on to try and explain the genetics behind the developing abnormalities, deluded prophets champed for their chance in the limelight to dramatically predict the end of the world, the newest mutant celebrities played in the tabloids and there was always the savage violence perpetrated by the anti-mutant groups, or in turn by the occasionally destructive mutant.

"They're not even human!" one woman declared, pulling her children close with a protective shudder, "They're saying they're evolved into something else. I don't think our same rights should apply to someone who isn't human." When asked what she would do if one of her own children were to develop a mutant ability, the woman became angry, refusing to accept the possibility. Her children would not become freaks.

"They're, like, the new gays," another person insisted from amidst a pro-mutant rally, "I mean, they can't help the way they're born, and they can't change it, you know, but, like, there's all this hatred towards them, especially with the church. And some people are a bit afraid, you know? But the real monsters, really, are all those guys out there hurting people. Killing kids, hurting them, just for being different. They're the freaks out there, not the mutants."

"It's all a government conspiracy," another interviewee informed the press, hiding huddled beneath a large raincoat so that all anyone could see was his eyes, "Genetic engineering, they put this crap in our food, and it's changing us. Changing our children. They put it in the vaccines."

As the stories slowly degraded from there, Senator Kinsey switched his television off. There were so many contradicting stories that it was hard to get a real feel for what was happening. People were panicking, unable to understand or to accept anything that challenged their century old beliefs. Kinsey knew the truth. The mutants were an abomination. He was not surprised so many anti-mutant terrorist groups had arisen. With the government doing nothing to ensure the nation's safety, it was only natural that the citizens would take action into their own hands. The violence was regrettable, of course, but not unsurprising.

And now it seemed their very own government was setting up a school to shelter those genetic abominations. New laws were being put into motion to protect their rights. Of course, others were in motion to protect true humans from this unprecedented danger. They wanted all mutants detained. Kinsey felt a shift in powers, and he knew where he wanted to stand when it all settled. Hammond could have his school and his labs. In the end, once all the mutants were gathered inside, it would not be too difficult to shut the door behind them.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Ah, right, and that brings us to our problem with the calculus teacher."

"Which is?" Hammond demanded, gallantly refraining from rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"There isn't one," Dr. Arnolds answered, shuffling his notes and glancing up at the others seated around the table.

"What about Mr. Williams, he knows algebra at least."

"True, but he's already teaching fourteen other classes. There are only so many duplicates of himself he can make."

Hammond nodded his head in acknowledgment. It was a relief when the phone rang, interrupting Major Lenner's newest suggestion. Hammond answered the phone with an apologetic motion towards the table. A few seconds later he set it down. Major Davis would have to field the rest of this meeting; he had business downstairs.

Sometimes delegation was a good thing.