Posting date: with Chapter 9, on June 8, 07.



Chapter Eight

March 19

The door flew open. "Colonel?" Carter raced inside, in a tank top, her BDU pants, and socks. She had a rather funny case of bed-head, with her hair stuck up like some sort of peacock's tail around her head. "Daniel said -- "

He held up a hand to steady her as she skidded to a stop beside the bed, slipping on her socks. "Carter, it wasn't so bad. I feel fine now." Okay, that was stretching the truth, since the little gnomes in his brain were still renovating, but the bad part was over.

"But if it was entropic cascade failure, that means you -- a different you -- is alive in this reality, and can't be far away," she realized. "We have to tell Markus. Right now."

He stared at her, wondering if it was just the hour but he really didn't see the connection. "Carter, for crying out loud, it's three in the morning. I think this can wait until later."

"No, sir," she disagreed. "I don't think so. If your double is close enough that you're feeling the effects, we have to get you away. That's the only way to lengthen your time. The entropy will decrease the farther away from him you are."

He nodded. That made sense. And it really did, that was the scary part. Once upon a time he wouldn't have understood any of this.

"Besides," she added, "Markus should know that your double is close by. That could mean Valhalla Sector is near, too."

He couldn't argue with her logic. If his double really was alive, then somehow he had evaded the virus. Thinking that it was some natural immunity and he just happened to be close to Thunder Mountain sounded like wishful thinking. Far more likely that the other O'Neill was still in the military and part of Valhalla Sector.

"All right," he agreed. "But make sure you tell him it wasn't my idea to wake him up," he admonished as she started on the way out. "Oh, and Carter?" she glanced back over her shoulder. He tapped his head once. "Comb your hair, would you?"

She turned pink and her hand reflexively went to her hair. "Yes, sir," she answered properly and dashed away.

---+---

Two minutes later, looking far more respectable, Sam called the elevator and realized she didn't know where Markus' quarters were. So she went down to his office in the hopes that either he might be there, or someone would be in the commissary for her to ask. His office door was open, but the room was dark and empty.

But below she had success. As she had recommended, the gate was now under guard. The tables and hydroponics had been put away or pushed to the sides of the room, leaving just one table. Four people, three men and one woman, were sitting there, playing Monopoly. Pistols and rifles sat within reach on the benches beside them.

"Rent is eight hundred, Gabriel," the woman announced with glee as Sam stepped into the room. "So sorry."

"Excuse me," Sam approached the table. "I don't think we've met. I'm Sam -- I'm one of the ones that came through that thing," she nodded toward the gate. "It's extremely urgent that I talk to Markus. Do you know where I can find him?"

The one addressed as Gabriel stood up. He was young, with black hair worn a bit shaggy and dark eyes that had seen too much, like all of them in this place. "We know who you are. Markus is in his room."

She nodded and smiled anxiously. "Yes, I figured as much. But I don't know where that is."

"Can't it wait?" Gabriel asked. "I know he left his office only about two hours ago. I'd rather not disturb him."

"I wouldn't ask, except it really is an emergency. Colonel O'Neill -- one of my companions -- is sick," she explained. "It's an illness relating to the ring."

Gabriel shared a look with his friends. They all nodded, so he turned back. "I'll go tell him you need to talk to him. If you'd wait in his office?"

Sam thanked them all and retreated upstairs. The wait seemed interminable.

She stood in front of the window, looking at the Stargate. With all the different stargates she had seen, this was the first she could remember that was part of a decorative water fountain. It seemed rather appropriate, considering that the open gate looked like water.

Staring at it, she realized how difficult it was going to be to get this Stargate to function. About the only thing it had in common with the SGC gate was that it was in approximately the same place. This one had no connections to a power supply, or the base mainframe. There were no programs to run it in the computer, even if it got connected.

She could do all those things, and there were people to help. But if the colonel was going to deteriorate as quickly as the other Carter had, she didn't have that kind of time. Her only hope was to take him away from his double and try to slow the increased entropy from building up in his cells. Or, alternatively, find his double and kill him, she realized. It was a dark option, but it was an option.

Shaking her head at the late-night nature of her thoughts, she went back to the bookshelf and her interrupted examination of the bottom shelf. It was quite a collection of physics and mathematics works, all advanced for the mid-80's. Tucked between a book on game theory and a physical chemistry textbook was a slender green paper book, which Sam immediately recognized as the American Theoretical Physics Journal. Wondering why this single copy was here, she slipped it off the shelf into her lap.

It was like new, only yellowed with age. Luckily Sam didn't have to open it, since the contents were printed on the cover. The fifth article was about a mathematical model for quark interactions from the fall 1989 issue. Listed as the third author was the name: M. Alexander. Her memory jarred, she could now remember several other, more recent articles written by the same person. Markus. She kicked herself for not putting it together before.

Quick footsteps in the corridor brought her attention back to the present with a guilty start. She put the journal back on the shelf and stood up. Erin entered with Gabriel hovering behind her in the corridor.

"Thanks, Gabriel," Erin said and shut the door. "So, Sam, what's wrong?" she asked, folding her arms. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was wearing a black T-shirt and baggy olive BDU pants, looking like her military counterpart.

Sam considered asking to talk to Markus again, but dropped that idea with one look at the protective stance of the other woman. "I told Gabriel -- the colonel's sick. It's sort of hard to explain…" she thought about the simplest way to get the point across. "Basically, two identical objects can't exist in the same universe. The one that doesn't belong gets rejected. Colonel O'Neill's double must still be alive -- and he can't be too far away. I wanted to warn Markus that Valhalla Sector, since they're the only old people I've heard of, might be close. And second, we need to take the colonel out of here right away, and as far as we can. Distance between him and his double is all that will stop him from … well … dying. At least until we can get him home."

Erin nodded slowly and wandered over to the window to glance out at the Stargate. "I see," she said. "I'll go find Markus and tell him. We'll meet you back at your rooms. Get your gear together."

Sam nodded and went out.

---+---

Erin shook her head, ruefully amazed. She'd known bringing Major O'Neill inside was going to bite them in the ass, but she could never have guessed it would come from this direction. Markus was going to love this.

Gabriel had already told her that he wasn't in his room, and he wasn't here. The night before he was going to leave, there was really only one other place he could be.

She passed through the doors into the locked-down, restricted section. It was more silent here, with only the constant drone of the air circulation system and the buzzing of the florescent lights indicating there was anyone here. Even the lighting was turned down, with only one in four bulbs lit, leaving large pools of shadow in between.

Imputing the code on the keypad, she entered the quarantine lab, opening the door as quietly as she could. All the lights were off, except the emergency lights, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

But she saw that she had been right. Markus was there, slumped forward in the gray vinyl chair, his head down on the table in front of him. Meaghan was asleep in the armchair she'd brought nearby, her hand against the window so that it would have touched his if there were no glass in the way.

For a moment, Erin just watched them. She wondered how she could possibly envy them, when she knew how hopeless it was. Meaghan could never come out of there, without risking not just Markus' life, but everyone else's. And Markus would never let her go. He had made that clear silently, by refusing everyone else, even though it might have made his job easier not to be thought of as strange. But to Erin's knowledge he had been completely faithful for fifteen years to a woman he would never be able to touch.

It was odd and yet beautiful. And if, in her secret heart, she wished things were different -- well, she wished for a lot of things that she wasn't going to have.

She bit her lip, took a deep breath, and walked forward. Softly she called, "Markus?" She shook his shoulder. "Markus, I'm sorry, but you need to wake up."

He groaned, shifted uncomfortably, and raised his head. "Oh, Christ ..." One hand went to his neck to rub. "I think my head's gonna fall off… What time is it?"

"Little after three," Erin answered.

He straightened painfully. "Ow. I don't think I can move."

Meaghan's teasing voice came through the glass and the speaker. "I told you so. Didn't I tell you to go to bed?"

"You did," he agreed sleepily, stretching out the kinks in his back and neck. "I just wanted to put my head down for a minute."

Meaghan snorted. "I knocked on the glass for five minutes, Markus. You were out cold." Then she shifted her attention. "Not that I'm not grateful that you've come, Erin, not the least so you can take that idiot back to his far more comfortable bed. But you look like something's wrong."

Markus blinked, yawned again, and alertness filtered back into his face when he raised his eyes to look at her. "Erin? What is it?"

His yawn made her give a yawn of her own, before she could answer. "Sam was looking for you. Jack's sick. It turns out there's some sort of problem with him being so close to the other Jack. She said that the universe rejects the one that doesn't belong. They don't know that Major Jack is in the mountain, but they know he's close by." She smiled a little, tasting the irony. "She thought to warn us, thinking that it was a sign that Valhalla Sector might be coming." Then the smile vanished. "She said that if they don't put distance between them, Jack -- our Jack -- is going to die."

He stood up, all trace of discomfort gone, replaced by alarm. "Oh shit. That didn't occur to me. They must be from different quantum realities. She's right -- the increased entropy in the system when they're close together could cause degradation at the molecular level. Damn, why didn't I think!" He slapped his hand on the table, angry at himself. "Stupid. I have to avoid mistakes like that."

Erin stared at him. She thought she understood what all the individual words meant, but put together she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Markus," Meaghan intervened, approaching the glass. "You can't expect to predict everything when it comes to four strangers using alien technology who are coming from a different universe. Cut yourself some slack, and go fix it." She had a soft way of speaking, but was very firm. "All right?"

"Right," he agreed and found a smile for her. "I've got to go. I don't think I'll be able to come back before I leave for St. Louis tomorrow. Later this morning, I mean," he realized, with a grimace.

"I know. Good luck at the meeting. Don't do anything foolishly brave," she ordered him. "Just come back."

"I will," he promised. He put two fingers to his lips and then blew her a kiss, which she pretended to snatch out of the air. "I'll see you soon, Meaghan. Not more than two weeks, I hope."

She just nodded and smiled, but her heart was in her eyes as she watched him turn to leave. It made Erin want to do something for them.

"If you like," Erin had to clear her throat. "I could come visit while he's gone," she offered tentatively, uncertain how it might be received. Ever since she had found out about Meaghan, she had only come with Markus twice and never on her own. She always felt awkward around the older woman. But she wanted to reach out. "If you don't mind company."

Meaghan smiled with what seemed to be genuine pleasure. "Not at all. I would love company, Erin. You're welcome, anytime."

"That's great," Markus nodded. He seemed pleased that the two women he was close to might become friends. "We should probably go." He held the door for Erin, and glanced back once. He very softly shut the door behind him and ensured it was locked.

Then he asked in a light voice, that didn't hide as much as he thought it did, "What do you say we stop for coffee first? It's just wrong being up at three in the morning."

"Coffee sounds good," she agreed.

---+---

Jeremiah hated being wakened. But if he had to be woken from sound sleep, he wanted it to be an emergency, to make it seem a little more worthwhile.

It also helped when the person waking him up was Erin. He rolled over to look down at her from the top bunk. "What is it?" He could feel the bottom bunk shift as well when Kurdy turned toward her.

She smiled tiredly. "There's a problem. Our guests have to leave. Right now. You two are going to go with them as guides."

"We're going where?" Jeremiah asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know exactly. Someplace in Kansas. It's a long story which you'll have plenty of time to hear on the trip. I'm sorry for the short notice, but it's an emergency. Pack up your gear and meet in the garage in twenty."

She was out the door, before Jeremiah was coherent enough to ask another question.

"Did I hear her right?" Kurdy swung out of bed and stood, eye to eye with his friend. "Did she just say that we're being sent outside right now? With the old people?"

"Yeah. That's what I heard, too. Figures. We just get settled in, and we've gotta go again." Jeremiah dropped to the floor and opened his footlocker to start dragging the stuff out that he needed for a trip.

"But if we're going with the old people, who's going with Markus?" Kurdy asked. "I know Erin's staying here, and I haven't heard he's taking anyone else to St. Louis."

"Ours is not to reason why, man," Jeremiah said, throwing an extra shirt, pair of socks, toothbrush, blanket, and mending kit into his bag. "I'm sure it's all arranged -- just nobody's bothered to tell us." He grabbed his socks and sat on the only chair to start putting on his boots.

"Well, I'm gonna ask," Kurdy said. He started putting his bag together too, with a bothered expression on his face. "Markus can't go alone. That's asking for trouble."

Jeremiah thought it was kind of ironic -- here was the guy who'd wanted to sell the Thunder Mountain jeep instead of taking it back when they'd first met, but now he'd become such a believer that he worried Markus might be going to this big meeting without protection.

Not that it didn't concern Jeremiah, too. Now that Markus knew about the whole guarding thing, he might go on his own, just to prove it wasn't necessary. Markus could be stubborn that way. Worse, at least in Jeremiah's opinion, Markus thought he understood the world outside the mountain, but he hadn't spent much time out there. A lack of experience might kill him, even without Valhalla Sector's bad guys in the mix.

"Yeah," Jeremiah said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "We'll find out what the plans are. Come on, let's go."

---+---

Sam went back to the colonel and Daniel's room, distracted by what she had found. But when she knocked once in warning and opened the door, all her worry returned in a rush. She found O'Neill standing, doing up the buttons of his BDU jacket. Daniel, fully dressed, was hovering in the background, watching, and Teal'c stood beside the door, in his T-shirt and sweatpants, looking very casual except for the concern in his dark eyes.

She asked anxiously, "Sir, how are you? Any more episodes?"

"Nope. I feel fine." He tugged on the hem once to straighten the jacket and then sat to start tying his boots. "Any luck finding the big cheese?"

"I talked to Erin. She was going to go get him, but she said we should pack up. I see you're already ahead of her," she observed.

"No sense waiting around," he half-shrugged.

Teal'c said, in a tone that suggested he had said the same before, "You may need further assistance, O'Neill. I should accompany you to search for Seth."

"No," O'Neill shook his head. "The farther away I am from the other me -- and can I just say that all these different versions of me running around is really disturbing -- I should be fine. Right, Carter?"

"Sir, this is still very theoretical," she corrected reluctantly. "It's also possible once the excess entropy builds up through proximity that it may not dissipate again. I don't believe you'll get any worse, but you might not get better either."

"Well, we'll deal with that if we have to. We stick to the plan." He finished tying his boots with a flourish. "There. All ready. Carter, are you set?"

"I never unpacked," she said. "I'm ready." She hesitated, wondering if she should tell them what she'd found out. She decided they ought to know. "While we wait, I found out something earlier, about Markus. I guess it's not really relevant, but I know who he was in our reality."

"Really, Sam?" Daniel asked curiously. "What did you find?"

"I found a journal article in his office dating from '89. Markus was one of the authors."

O'Neill blinked and frowned in confusion. "How can that be? Wouldn't he have been, like, twelve?"

"More like fifteen," she said with a brief smile. She noticed she had the rest of her team's complete attention. It was a nice change. "He was a prodigy. One of the National Scholars."

Daniel's mouth dropped open. He understood what that meant, and explained for the colonel and Teal'c. "It's a program pairing gifted high schoolers with university faculty for special research opportunities. It's very selective."

Sam had been going through her rebellious phase at the time and refused to apply, believing her father's connections would interfere in the process. But Daniel was right -- selection was extremely competitive. She went on, "There's something else. Back when I was still at the Pentagon, we were considering recruiting him to the program. I read his research and was very excited at the prospect of working with him. There was one--"

O'Neill interrupted, "Carter. He obviously didn't join up. So what happened?"

"He died," she replied abruptly.

Her answer was not what any of them had expected. She folded her arms and continued, "Not long after we formed SG-1, maybe around the time we went to Cimmeria, the announcement went out that he'd been killed. One of his students was found dead in his apartment, and Markus ran his car off a cliff into the Pacific. Police called it a suicide." She added deliberately, "I'm not so sure anymore."

She saw the instant that understanding dawned in the colonel's face. O'Neill might not understand much physics, but he had a fine grasp of dirty politics. The realization was replaced by a disgusted snarl, "Maybourne the Weasel strikes again."

She nodded. "Yes, sir. I suspect NID recruited, or kidnapped, Markus into Area 51. I can guess what they had him doing, too. Rodney admitted to me he wasn't the original designer of their wormhole computer model. I think it was Markus. Then they took him off-world through the Antarctica gate. What if he escaped them and ended up with the Tok'ra?"

"That would explain a lot," O'Neill nodded thoughtfully. "Including how damn suspicious they were when we first met them."

"But I don't understand why he wouldn't talk to you guys," Daniel said. "If that's true, wouldn't he want to tell you what happened?"

Sam shook her head, but Teal'c answered first, "Would he understand the difference between the unauthorized actions of the NID and the SGC?"

"Probably not," Sam agreed. "He wouldn't know who he could trust. He might have thought we could force him back somehow." She very carefully didn't look at O'Neill, but she was also sure that the colonel's hostility to the Tok'ra had discouraged any confidences. Malek had borne the brunt of O'Neill's anger toward Kanan, and it was really no wonder that Markus hadn't spoken a word at the Alpha Site or on Pangar. In his shoes, she wouldn't have either.

O'Neill got to his feet, looking uncomfortable, and she suspected he was thinking something similar. "Well, this is all very interesting, Carter, but aside from telling me that Markus is smart, which, sorry, isn't all that much of a shock, what does it mean to us, right now?"

She shrugged. "Not much, I guess. Although he should understand why you have to leave."

There were two sharp raps outside and then the door swung open. Markus entered into a silent room. He looked from one to another, and frowned as he sipped from the coffee cup in his hand. He was wearing the same clothes as the day before, but more wrinkled, and Sam wondered if he'd slept. His face looked pale, but that could just have been the bluish florescents. All of SG-1 stared at him.

"Good morning, Markus," he said in an exaggerated, courteous voice when still no one spoke, and then carried on the rest of the conversation himself. "Good morning. Sorry for waking you. Oh, that's all right, I was in the middle of a very odd dream about talking hippos, so it was probably just as well. Erin mentioned there was some emergency?"

He drank his coffee and showed every sign of waiting until someone said something.

Sam glanced at O'Neill, who appeared to be stuck on the talking hippos, so she started, "Yes, I am sorry for waking you, but it was urgent. The colonel's experienced what we call entropic cascade failure, which is -- "

Markus nodded impatiently and interrupted, "Yes, the build-up of entropy between identical objects with different quantum signatures, that's obvious. What I don't know is whether the local O'Neill will be equally affected by Jack's presence."

Relieved that he understood, and pleased that she'd been right, she shook her head once. "I can tell you from personal experience that the local one, as you say, experiences nothing," Sam said. "The one who doesn't belong --"

Jack raised a hand. "That would be me. It feels extremely weird, and it looks especially bizarre. It gets worse."

Markus nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I'm sure it does. Eventually the molecular bonds will fail, as all the quarks orient themselves to their new quantum universe."

O'Neill looked to Sam in alarm, only a little exaggerated for effect. "You didn't tell me I was going to blow up, Carter."

"You won't blow up, sir," she said reassuringly. "Just… dissolve."

"So not helping," O'Neill grumbled.

"But not if we get Jack out of here, right?" Daniel asked. "Far away from his double."

Markus set his empty coffee cup on the small corner table and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Yes, about that, I'm sorry. If I'd thought it through I would've known better, but unfortunately, I brought Major O'Neill here."

That got everyone's attention. Even Sam stared. It was one thing to theorize that the colonel had a double, quite another to hear that he not only existed, but was inside the mountain.

Markus smiled faintly. "Major O'Neill is alive, working for Valhalla Sector. I had one of my recon teams capture him and bring him back for questioning. Apparently his way of doing things has won him little approval from his superiors."

"Imagine that," Daniel muttered, and O'Neill elbowed him.

"But why did you bring him here?" O'Neill asked, looking uncomfortable.

"Several reasons," Markus answered. "One, I was curious about him. Two, I didn't think it was a good idea to have two of you running around. And last, I wanted to know if we could persuade him to our way of thinking. That's the main reason I need one of you to stay behind," Markus explained. "I hope that Murray, who understands how you think, Jack -- will convince Major O'Neill to help us."

"Teal'c," Teal'c said abruptly. He had been watching everyone so quietly that Sam had nearly forgotten he was in the room. "My name is Teal'c. 'Murray' is a name I use among those I do not trust." He bowed his head to Markus. "I would be honored to assist you in this task. Colonel O'Neill once freed me from beliefs in false gods, and I wish to do the same for him."

"Thank you. Teal'c." Markus tried the name tentatively then smiled, appreciating it for the gift it was. "Do you still want to travel with me, Daniel, or would you like to go with the others after all?"

Daniel glanced at Jack and then at Markus and back, worrying at his lower lip in indecision.

"Daniel," O'Neill said, rolling his eyes, "I know how much you want to go to the meeting. Just go." He made a shoo-ing motion with his hand. "I'll be fine. We'll stay in touch by radio."

Turning back to Markus with a smile, Daniel answered, "Great. Then I'd still like to come."

"Good. Are you both packed?" Markus asked. "Erin's getting Jeremiah and Kurdy. They'll meet us up top."

O'Neill grimaced. "We don't really need escorts. We can find Kansas on our own."

Markus swept O'Neill with his eyes and challenged with a sketch of a smile and lifted brows. "You're wearing that?"

Defensive, knowing that Markus was setting him up, Jack answered, "What's wrong with it?"

"It's military, for one. It's also new," Markus pointed out. "New clothes are a valuable commodity that can get you killed. This is not your Earth. Jeremiah and Kurdy will do their best to keep you safe. I advise that you listen to them." He didn't wait for any acknowledgment, perhaps realizing that he wasn't likely to get one from O'Neill. He glanced at Sam. "You should change too."

She nodded slowly. Killed for their clothes? "I'll pop next door."

In her room, she changed into jeans and a ratty purple sweater from the bureau. She couldn't part with her underwear or her boots though, even though she knew it would be wiser. If someone got close enough to realize her underwear was new, she was in bigger trouble than that.

She grabbed the pack and joined them in the hall. Markus gave her an approving nod and led the way to the elevators, which came promptly this early in the morning.

They came out on the first level, went through the open inner bulkhead doors and into the cavernous space that Sam knew as the parking tunnel. Even though the outer doors were closed, it was still cold. She pulled her jacket closed, and looked around.

It wasn't that different from the SGC. There were military open-top jeeps parked at the near end, as well as a few civilian vehicles. A space along the side had been set aside for repairs, going by the car up on a lift and the oil stains on the concrete.

The overhead lights were on, and by their light she could see Erin and a teenage boy waiting by a table mounded with supplies next to one of the jeeps.

She glanced up to see them enter and her smile of greeting was as tired as Sam felt. "'Morning. You don't look sick, Jack."

"Don't let the good looks fool you," he quipped. "The sooner I can get out of here, the better."

Erin shifted her gaze to Markus. "Jeremiah and Kurdy are on their way."

"Good." He glanced at the coltish young teenager standing next to her, with a perplexed frown. "Victor, what are you doing up?"

Erin patted his arm with a smile. Victor had a slightly worshipful glaze in his eyes as he looked at her that Sam found amusingly familiar. "Found him wandering the halls, and pressed him into service. He helped me gather supplies."

O'Neill strode up to the table and scanned the equipment. "Ah, my sidearm. MP5. Ammo. Grenade launcher. Nice." He touched it in gentle appreciation. "Food, always good." He fingered a mound of green string. "Camo net. What do we need that for?"

"To hide the car," Kurdy explained from behind them. "A car with gas is worth a lot of food these days."

"Not that you'd know anything about that," Jeremiah teased him.

Sam turned to find the two men approaching, carrying packs that made hers look huge.

"Glad you're here," Markus greeted them. "I'm sure you'd like an explanation, but time is of the essence. Sam and Jack will give you one on the way."

"Yeah, no problem. But before we go, I have a question," Kurdy said, putting his pack down at his feet. "I want to make sure someone's going with you to the meeting."

"Daniel is," Markus answered.

"And?" Kurdy prompted.

Markus' smile looked very forced. "And that's all. If you four would get your gear --"

Kurdy interrupted, shaking his head. "Nope. A doctor of archaeology is not somebody I want watching your back. No offense, Daniel."

Daniel looked bemused. "None taken. I guess."

Markus folded his arms, open irritation rising in his expression. "Would you all -- " his glare swept across the whole group, " -- just give it a rest? This has gone beyond annoying, into really starting to piss me off. I am not, despite what everyone seems to think, incapable of defending myself. You and you," he pointed at Jeremiah and Kurdy then at Sam and the colonel, "are going with them. And Daniel is coming with me. The rest of you are staying here. Understood? Good. Have a good trip."

He turned and stalked off. Sam flinched when the door slammed.

Erin chuckled ruefully, breaking the following silence. "I told you he would hate it."

"The question is," O'Neill said to Kurdy, "are you gonna listen to him? I trust Daniel to watch my six in a firefight, but as Markus himself just told us, this isn't our world. We don't understand the dangers. That's why he's sending you guys with us."

Victor suddenly spoke up. "Maybe one of you could go with them, and one could go with Markus. Cuz he needs someone who knows the Outside to watch over him."

Erin nodded and bestowed a smile on the boy, which made him glow. "I wouldn't ordinarily counter what Markus orders, but Victor has a point. Markus is being stubborn and cranky -- there's no reason why Sam and Jack need both of you."

Jeremiah and Kurdy shared a long look.

"You okay with it, man?" Kurdy asked him. "If I go with Markus?"

"Yeah. I am. You watch your back, since I can't. And you watch Markus' back, since he's got all the brains in the world, but not one grain of common sense."

Kurdy snorted. "Ain't that the truth."

"All right, everyone who's going, let's get this show on the road," O'Neill ordered. "Carter, grab some weapons. Jeremiah, you make sure she doesn't forget anything important. Like the camo net."

He grabbed his pack in one hand and hers in his other and took them to the jeep, heaving them into the back. He'd thrown both in, when he gave a loud gasp. Sam glanced at him in alarm.

He was holding on with both hands to the side of the jeep, but his whole body seemed to be flickering, haloed in white light as his physical form seemed to slip in and out of existence. Without seeming to cross the intervening space, Teal'c was suddenly there to hold him up. The episode quickly passed and he sagged.

"Holy shit," Jeremiah whispered. He was staring with wide eyes at O'Neill. Erin, Kurdy, and Victor were likewise shocked, and Sam had the odd thought that Markus was going to be disappointed that he missed seeing it.

"Jeremiah, help me. We have to go, now." She grabbed up the gear and started to throw it in the back. They could arrange it later, when they'd gone some distance. Jeremiah moved slowly at first, still watching O'Neill warily, but then seemed to shake it off and help her get the stuff in the truck.

"You will be well, O'Neill," Teal'c said, something between a question and a command, as he set O'Neill back on his feet.

O'Neill patted his shoulder once and stepped back. "I'll be fine. Carter, don't forget our radios. Daniel can take his, and that way we'll all be in contact."

"Got them, sir. We're ready."

"Then climb aboard," he ordered. "Daniel, have fun. Try not to get into trouble. T, you hold down the fort. We'll be back when we can."

Jeremiah raised his hand toward Kurdy and Erin. "See ya. Hey, Erin, tell Lee we're not done yet. We're gonna have a chat when I get back."

She smiled. "I'm sure he's holding his breath. Oh, before I forget, here, Jack. I thought you might need this."

She handed Jack a soft, blue woolen cap to pull down over his ears. Except for the color, it looked just like the black one Teal'c often wore on Earth, to hide his brand of Apophis. This one was to hide his gray hair. Sam smiled, but knew better than to laugh. "Gee, thanks," he grunted.

"You're welcome. Now, get going."

Jeremiah and O'Neill automatically moved to the front to drive, meeting in front of the door. Sam bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud. Her gaze found Erin's, and the younger woman rolled her eyes. Apparently some things were constant, from one dimension to another.

"After you," O'Neill invited broadly, and went around the hood to the other front door. Sam resigned herself to the narrow back bench seat and climbed over the side.

Jeremiah started the car and soon they were on their way. The massive outer doors opened and they drove into the darkness.

---+---

Later that morning, Daniel waited with Kurdy beside him as a crowd gathered in the cafeteria. The normal breakfast tables hadn't been set up, so the room was mostly open space. At the end, just in front of the Stargate fountain, a wooden box and microphone stand waited for Markus to come in. A few people had already tested the mike and its connections to the mountain intercom system, so it was ready. Erin and the members of the advisory council talked nearby.

From their vantage point at the side, Kurdy surveyed the proceedings with folded arms. He ranted in a barely audible voice, "I told Markus this was a bad idea. But did he listen? Hell, no."

Daniel restrained a sigh, and said patiently, "No one is going to try anything in front of a crowd like this, Kurdy. They'd get ripped apart." Then he smiled a little. "Besides, with Teal'c shepherding him --"

Kurdy frowned at him. "Teal'c?"

"Oh, sorry," Daniel kicked himself. "That's Murray's first name. He doesn't give it out casually. It's a, um, ethnic thing."

Kurdy looked curious and was about to ask something, when a murmur and rustle went through the crowd. Daniel turned, to see Markus coming in through the main door, with Teal'c on his heels. Markus spoke briefly to various people as he went through the crowd, but wouldn't be stopped on his way to the microphone. He greeted the council members and then mounted the box. "Good morning," he said, and the mike carried his words all through the inside of the mountain.

In her room, Meaghan laid aside her book and listened with her eyes closed, a small proud smile on her lips.

In a cell, several levels above her, Lee sat on his cot with his knees drawn up, and listened with his face turned toward the speaker as if he could see Markus on the other end.

Across the room in their own cell, Majors Kawalsky and O'Neill were playing cards. At first they continued to play, but the pace of dealing and discarding slowed, until they couldn't pretend that they weren't listening.

In the cafeteria, Markus looked out on the gathered people and hesitated, looking a bit pale and nervous. Then he took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and started. "Thank you for coming. I'm not usually given to speeches, but today is an important day for Thunder Mountain and I wanted to share my thoughts on why it's important. I promise I'll try to be brief, but breakfast service will continue after I'm finished, no matter when that is." A low chuckle went through the crowd, and it helped Markus relax enough that his voice loosened up and he stopped shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Everyone inside the mountain has heard about the meeting in St. Louis. Many of you have worked on one aspect of it or another. But I know that some of you don't understand why Thunder Mountain is going to reveal itself to the outside world, or why it's necessary that we talk to these other outside leaders at all. I'm sure it feels… dangerous. We've been safe in here for fifteen years. It's been our home and our sanctuary from the harsh realities of the Outside. And the thought of 'out there' is scary. Trust me, it's scary to me too.

"But Thunder Mountain isn't only about being safe." He shook his head once. His tone changed slightly, becoming less conversational and revealing how deeply he meant his words. "Our purpose -- our destiny, if you will -- is to take what we have saved and what we've learned, and rebuild our civilization, better and stronger than it was. It won't be easy. It won't be quick. The old world died in less than a week, but we mere mortals are going to take a lot longer to create a new one. But that's what the St. Louis meeting is about -- the first step on a long road to bring people back together. Because we can't do it alone. And if we don't do it at all, there are forces in this world that are going to do it for us, and we won't want to live in the world they plan to create."

Markus paused, shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, and then took them out again. His expression was reluctant, but determined. He didn't like what he was about to say at all. "The rumors are true. There is a real place known as Valhalla Sector. They are a group of people, mostly soldiers, who survived the Big Death in a place a lot like this one, a bunker hidden from the outside world. But they're not like us. They're relics of the past. While they were hiding in their cave, the world passed them by, but they don't understand that. Their leaders want to put our world under their domination, whatever the cost, whoever they have to kill to get it. Worse, they've been experimenting with ways to bring back the Big Death as a tool of control."

An alarmed whisper ran through the gathered crowd. Markus let it run its course and spoke again, standing tall. "Yes, it's horrible. And it proves that they never learned the lessons that we all did, when we watched our parents die and the world crumble around us. As a country, as a people, we can't go back -- we can only go forward. But in order to do that, we need friends. To stand against Valhalla Sector's plans of conquest, we need allies. That's what I hope to find at the meeting in St. Louis.

"Hope," he repeated, more softly, as though tasting the word. "We have hope in the future, but outside these walls, hope is something people generally try not to believe in. I'd like to think that we have enough hope to spare and give to others without losing any ourselves. That's the message I'm going to take to St. Louis. If all goes well, I'll bring back word of a new alliance, working together toward that hopeful and better future."

In the absolute silence, his deep breath seemed loud. He glanced at Erin and the others standing to his left. "While I'm gone, the advisory council has my full confidence and authority. They know what to do. Thank you all for your attention."

He paused, to allow for polite clapping, but the room remained still and silent. He stepped down off the box, and cast a worried glance out into the quiet crowd. Erin and the short-haired, tall man named Andrew took two steps toward him, Erin with a reassuring smile.

Daniel didn't know who started it -- if anyone -- it seemed to rise instantaneously. The entire cafeteria broke into thunderous applause and even a few scattered whistles and cheers. Markus closed his eyes, sagging in relief, before he turned and waved his hand in thanks. Erin and Andrew and the other council members gathered around him. The tumult died down as the crowd began to disperse.

Daniel turned to Kurdy, who was still watching Markus. He'd folded his arms and was leaning against the wall in a casual attitude, a relic of more cynical times in the outside, Daniel thought. But he certainly wasn't cynical about what Markus had said. He shook his head ruefully. "Never heard him lay it all out like that before. Makes sense, y'know?"

Smiling, Daniel nodded his agreement. Markus was not a great speaker -- there was no smooth talking, brilliant rhetorical talent on display. He was awkward, clearly unaccustomed to speaking to large groups of people. And yet … his ability was enough to let the clarity of his vision shine through. He knew what he believed in, and he knew what to do to achieve it. And in this time and place, Daniel suspected that held a very powerful appeal.

"So," he asked Kurdy, "how does it feel to know you're going to watch history being made?"

Kurdy grunted, only now turning his eyes toward Daniel, "I'll settle for getting us all back home in one piece."

Daniel leveled a look on him. "Come on. You're not the least bit excited?"

Kurdy straightened up abruptly. "Markus is waving us over."

Daniel followed, smiling at Kurdy's back. It was always the same -- the tough guys tried to pretend they didn't care, when they were often the ones who cared the most.

It should be an interesting trip.

---+---

Jack sat on the prison bunk, staring straight ahead. He felt blind-sided by the speech. His only witty comment sounded flat even to him. Charlie refused to meet his eyes. Conflicted thoughts ran rampant through his mind. Since the virus had taken down the system, Valhalla Sector was all he had known. He had trusted his president and the military to do the right thing.

This kid called him a relic of the past. Jack suddenly felt old.

"Do you begin to understand?" Lee asked from the other cell. "Markus is an idealist, a visionary; someone who only believes in what good men can do. Yet he's intelligent and capable and has just enough charisma to make everyone around him believe too. Look at you guys, you weren't even in the same room, yet you felt it, didn't you? I wish he'd stay here, since I know the enemies he's up against, but he can't. He understands how the Outside needs hope and something to believe in; someone who won't let them down or capitalize on their weaknesses."

Jack felt everything Lee was saying, but he couldn't admit it. "It's ironic, isn't it, Chen? You come here to spy, then you get found out. However, your loyalties have changed, but it doesn't make a bit of difference. Markus doesn't trust you anymore. Life sucks, huh?"

Lee didn't answer.

The door opened. Breakfast had been served and removed already. Maybe they were in for some visitors. Would it be Markus? Or the pretty blond who accompanied him, but didn't talk much.

Jack blinked as he took a good look at the hulking black man who entered. He had a strange gold emblem on his forehead. Instead of taking a chair, he lowered himself to the floor and sat cross-legged, staring into the cell where he and Kawalsky were.

"Lee Chen? Is it normal to keep two prisoners in one cell? I have not heard of this custom." His voice started somewhere around his ankles. Jack was impressed.

"No," Lee answered. "We're just short of space."

The big guy stared at Jack. And stared some more. Jack was growing uncomfortable. He called on all his military training not to flinch or look away.

"I am Murray," the man said. "I have been asked to keep my eyes on you."

"Does that mean you're gonna stare for hours?" Jack asked, trying for flippancy, but failing.

"Yes."

Jack swallowed thickly. "Why?"

"Because I know how an O'Neill thinks."

"What the hell? What made you an expert on me?"

"Not on you. On an O'Neill."

"You've met my family?" he asked, bewildered and yet curious. He hadn't thought any of them had survived the Big Death.

"I have not." He tilted his head. "You have family?" he inquired.

Jack groaned. This was getting them nowhere. "Can you tell what I'm thinking now?"

"Indeed I can," he answered "You are confused and hide behind anger and jokes. Your mind is actively seeking a way out of this, yet you have a reluctance to harm anyone, for it is not your nature to hurt the innocent. Do not be concerned, O'Neill. You will know the right choice when it is time."

"Yeah, right." Jack managed a few more seconds of bravado, until Murray's self-assured regard was too much, and he had to drop his eyes to his hands.

---+---

The captain backed out of the hall into the corridor. As he ran to his quarters, echoes of thunderous applause assaulted his ears. He retrieved his sat phone and rushed to the monitoring room on 24. He opened the door and made sure he was alone before entering and closing the door behind him. He plugged the phone into the terminal with shaking hands.

Markus was leaving today. The colonel had to know this as soon as possible. Lee would have known that this was coming up, why hadn't he reported this earlier? Maybe he had and that was how he was caught.

O'Neill and the woman had not been at the speech. In fact, Jeremiah hadn't been there either, even though his partner was. Where were they?

He had so much to report. He typed in his request to access the comm system and got his first unwelcome surprise.

The screen went blank, and then it spat back a message, "Permission Denied. If you have a legitmate need to access the system, you know where to go. If you're a traitor and you're spying for Valhalla Sector, then too bad. Have a nice day."

"Son of a bitch!" He slammed the console. The bastard Markus had closed the access ports. He should've killed him yesterday when he had the chance, and to hell with the consequences. If he hurried maybe he could still take the smug traitor down. Somebody had to.

He yanked the phone out of the jack and was halfway to the door, when it opened for his second unwelcome surprise of the morning.

Sixteen-year old Kristen stood in the doorway. "I-I heard a noise," she stammered. Her eyes widened when she saw the phone in his hand.

Damn. He had always liked her. She was a pretty girl, friendly and kind.

What a pity she had picked today to investigate strange noises.