Chapter Fourteen
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Velez' body lay covered in a white sheet on a gurney in an isolation room. A serious looking Senior Airman stood with his M16 rifle in his hands, guarding the door. Amelia took a deep breath before approaching. She had no idea what she was going to face but she felt a heavy sense of loss over Velez' death. She felt that she had failed her. The airman swiped his card against the door which slid open almost soundlessly. He stepped aside and allowed her to pass. She gave him a quick smile by way of thanks.
Pulling on a pair of blue latex gloves, she stood beside the body. Even after all these years in medicine, she hated to lose a patient. It still affected her personally and always played on her mind for days afterwards as she ran so many different scenarios, wondering if she had missed something; if there was something more she should or could have done. Carefully, she pulled back the sheet and looked into Velez' face. She seemed peaceful for the first time in their short acquaintance.
"Doctor Hendrik, are you okay?" Carter said as stepped into the room.
Amelia turned to look at her, a sudden wave of embarrassment flushing her cheeks. She turned back to Velez to hide her rising colour.
"Just angry," she replied. "I should have been able to find something. It isn't exactly a great record in your first ten days."
Sam said nothing. There was nothing to say.
"God damn it!" Amelia yelled, yanking off the latex gloves and slamming them into the yellow incineration bin.
"It wasn't your fault," Sam reassured her.
"I should have been here!"
"You're no good without rest."
"What happened?"
"I'm sure that Doctor Kaufmann will fill you in."
"We need an autopsy but we're going to need maximum precautions. We know it's not airborne but that's all we know."
"Will you do it?" Sam asked.
"No, I'm not a pathologist. I want a specialist in for this. It'll take some time to set up. I'll call General Sizemore. I'm sure he'll know someone. In the meantime, I'll have her transferred to the morgue." She glanced back at the body. "God, this is all such a mess," she mumbled under her breath.
"Are you…" Carter started then hesitated, looking down at her feet for a second. Amelia waited. "I just wondered if you might want to…we're supposed to be going back to P four X nine eight two this afternoon. I thought you might not want to come."
She didn't. It was the last place she wanted to be, but she needed to get back now more than ever.
"It'll be fine. I'll be fine. We need to bring North home and he may need medical attention."
"Kaufmann could go in your place?"
Amelia shook her head. "No, really. It's fine. I'll be ready." She paused. Time to plant a seed but Carter was smart. She needed to be careful. "I don't suppose...no, never mind." She headed for the door.
"Doctor Hendrik?"
"Sorry, it's just...Velez, Holmes, North...according to their records they've been involved in the program for some time. Is it possible that the gate is causing...some kind of chemical reaction."
Sam shook her head. "I don't see how. SG1 have probably been through that gate more times than many of the other teams. Certainly more than SG21. We're not affected."
Amelia raised her eyebrows. "We don't know that though, do we?"
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Commander Yellan placed the report down on the table and looked up at the young man stood before him. His son. His pride and joy. The inventor of the formula that would save them from slavery. The tests on the human clones had gone better than they could have anticipated according to everything he had just read. Only one obstacle remained. The memory graft had been unsuccessful but had caused irreparable damage to the brain of the human. North was dead.
"You have done well. It is a pity about the human, though."
"There really was nothing that we could do. The grafts have worked on the inhabitants of this world with no ill effects. I am still trying to find a reason. Perhaps they are simply weaker?"
Yellan shook his head. "The system lords would not have chosen them as hosts if they were weak."
"I have the formula and the sample ready for transport," Kathan replied.
"No!" Yellan got to his feet. "Do not give them the formula. Once they have that they will have no need of us. We will agree to produce as much as need. We should start immediately, but we cannot let them have the means to make it themselves."
"Father, they cannot. Even with the formula. They would need arcenitsite. As far as I am aware I am the only person who knows how that can be created. There are no natural deposits any longer. It is highly volatile and burns at an uncommonly low temperature."
His father seemed to consider this for a moment. "And you have not written this down?" Kathan shook his head. "And you are sure that this woman will not be able to reverse engineer it from the blood or the sample we are going to provide?"
"No, father. You have my word."
"Then we will be necessary. They will need us still."
"And that is the beauty."
"They will send an agent with the next party that comes through the gate. You will provide them with the sample as agreed."
"Yes, father."
"Once they see what it is capable of…"
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Amelia booted up her computer. She needed to complete the report. She needed to present her evidence and using Daniel Jackson, as a member of SG1, was perfect but it wasn't her idea and she didn't like it one bit. It was nothing more than sacrificing one member of SG1 for another in her opinion. Jackson for Mitchell and no matter her feelings for Mitchell, it wasn't right. She had only selected Jackson because she had had the least personal involvement with him. It had to be someone high profile and Jackson had been there from the start. She dragged her hair out of her face and looked at her watch. It was after lunch. She didn't know where the time had gone. Another forty-five minutes and she was due off world again. She wanted to stay Earth-side but she had her instructions. She hated herself and what she knew she had to do.
"Amelia," a voice called out.
She spun around in her seat. Davis stood in the doorway, watching her. "Paul!" The smile came easily to her lips, a slight flush in her cheeks, he noticed. Genuinely pleased to see him. She had no idea and that just made things harder.
"Can I come in?" he asked. A frown fluttered across her brow.
"You normally don't wait to be invited," she replied.
He tried to match her relaxed manner but his muscles were tense.
"Yeah," he said, walking across the room but he didn't stop at her desk. He was pacing. "I need to talk to you, Amelia. About your investigation. About Holmes, I guess, and the results you got back. You think it's the gate?"
"Ah, official?" Amelia swallowed back the lump in her throat. "I think there might be some link but we need to arrange more tests and...Look, Paul. It's a long story and I don't have time now. I need to get changed. I'm due off-world soon and..."
"Don't go," he demanded.
"What? No, you know I have to."
"Amelia, you're making a mistake. I don't know why and I'm not even sure I understand what but..." He dragged his fingers through his hair. "I'm going to have to go to Landry unless you talk to me, right now."
Amelia looked at him, met his stare but it didn't contain the cold hardness she had expected. Instead he looked worried. She felt tears prick her eyes and blinked them away.
"I have to go, Paul. I can't...please. Just give me until I get back. I'll meet you for dinner. In fact, come to the cabin. I'll tell you everything. Hell, what does it matter any more anyway. I'm in way over my head."
He approached, reaching out and curling his fingers around the tops of her arms. "Amelia, I just want to help you."
"Then don't tell Landry anything. Not yet. Please, give me the chance to explain and set it right. Just not now. I have to go through with this and it would be better if..."
They stood silently, eyes locked together. Davis' gaze flicked to her lips momentarily and she subconsciously ran her tongue along them. He took his hands from her arms, placing his right hand on her cheek. His hands were soft, his touch gentle. Her heart thudded in her chest and the sound of blood rushing in her ears blocked out everything else. She closed her eyes as his lips met hers, tentative and uncertain. She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the heat of his body through the cotton. She wanted to flick the buttons, to feel his flesh against her fingertips.
Instead, she pushed him away. "I'm sorry," she said.
"No, I should be...I mean I..."
"Wait for me to come back. We can talk about anything you want. I'll tell you everything...and then perhaps we should talk about this," Amelia said.
"This?"
"You and me and...Us."
"Us? I wasn't sure 'us' was an option."
"I don't know...perhaps if you...I have some things I need to get straight in my head. I'm a mess right now."
"And this isn't just a ploy to stop me talking to Landry?"
Amelia sighed. She could understand why he would think that but it hurt. "If it'll make you believe me then tell him everything you think you know."
He seemed to consider this for a moment. "Okay, we'll talk tonight but...you have to be honest."
"You have my word." She squeezed his hand and walked out of the office. He exhaled deeply, shook his head and wondered just what the hell he thought he was doing.
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Mitchell marched down the corridor with Carter and two of the Zerantian guards. From the corner of his eye, he could see that their fingers were never far from their holstered weapons. A swift raise of an eyebrow from Carter indicated that she had noticed the same thing. As they reached the threshold of the Zerantian's facility the older of the two guards barked at them.
"Stop. Wait!"
"Like my Grandma would say, 'manners cost nothing'," Mitchell mumbled. Carter stifled a laugh.
"Where is your colleague?"
"You tell me. I don't keep her on a leash," Mitchell replied impatiently. "Although I sometimes think that might not be a bad idea. It just takes so long to train them."
The guards just stared.
"I guess my sense of humour doesn't travel, huh?" he grumbled.
The second of the two guards retraced his steps, returning moments later with a rather flushed Amelia. She threw a strange smile at Mitchell and glared towards the exit. Mitchell frowned and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
"Go!" she mouthed.
"Colonel Mitchell, there is much we still have to discuss," came the imposing tones of Commander Yellan. "I look forward to our next meeting and please, pass on my condolences to the family of your deceased comrade. I wish that we could have prevented his demise and I am ashamed that it happened under my command."
"I'll be sure to do that," Mitchell replied.
"Doctor Hendrik, I hope that our medical team has proved useful and provided you with something that will help the sick and injured who returned to you."
"Sadly, Commander Yellan, it was too late for them but it has been most enlightening. Thank you," she replied. "I'm sure that we'll meet again very soon." She took the first step through the atmospheric force field and across the line of demarcation between ancient and modern. The desert heat hit her and almost took away her breath after the cool, clean air of the Zerantian facility. Mitchell and Carter said their goodbyes and followed her through.
Her pace was increasing as she made her way along the stone corridor and to the large metal door at the end. She practically ran down the stairs, encouraging Mitchell and Carter to hurry.
"We have to get out of here, fast!" she said in a throaty whisper, as the sandy air dried her mouth.
"What the hell is going on, Hendrik?" Mitchell asked.
"The medic I was with. He was the Commanders eldest son…" Amelia began.
"Wait! Was…" Mitchell cried.
"He had an accident."
"What sort of accident?" he called after her as she started to run towards the village gates.
"The sort where he accidentally stabbed himself in the jugular vein with a scalpel and bled to death in the cold storage room. So, we need to get out of here before they find his body."
Mitchell's eyes widened, his face reddening and his mouth open, ready to berate her but she jumped in before he could speak.
"They had tissue and DNA samples from every member of SG21, Cam. They were cloning. Now we need to get the hell out of here before..."
"Had?" Carter asked.
Amelia smiled. "Had!" she repeated, patting her rucksack.
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Commander Yellan followed his security team to the medical centre. The door to the cold storage room was wide open and at the back of the room, partially hidden beneath a metal workbench, was the body of Kathan, lying a pool of dark, thickening blood. Yellan got down to his knees and looked into the lifeless eyes of his son. He reached out and stroked his hair before pulling himself upright.
"Father," a dark-haired girl of around fourteen years sobbed as she slipped her hand into Commander Yellan's. "Why would anybody kill him? He is just a physician."
Yellan had never been completely honest with his daughter. Protecting her and protecting his own reputation in her eyes had been everything to him. He wondered if that was, perhaps, why Kathan was lying dead at his feet now. He had always tried to live up to his father's expectations. The experiments had been pushed and pushed with Kathan always wanting to show his father just how good he was. Perhaps if he had allowed him to be a teacher, as he had wanted in his younger days, Kathan would be alive now. But now he had to think of his people.
"Your brother was a good man. The best of men, my daughter. Remember that. We will avenge his death. We will destroy the men from Earth who have done this to us," Yellan cried. Clutching his daughter's hand more tightly than ever he turned to his second in command. "Sound the alarms."
"What about the agreement, Commander?" Hustad replied, a hint of panic in his voice. "I understand that you are...upset...but you must think of our people."
He considered for a moment, his gaze shifting from his daughter to the body of his son sprawled on the floor. "Are we not strong? Are we not well armed?"
"So were the rest of our people and still our planet was overrun by the system lords and our people destroyed or enslaved," Hustad pressed. "We were lucky to escape with our lives. We owe it to those who did not survive to protect our population and to do that we need the humans. We cannot..."
"We will fight. We will not be slaves to anyone," Yellan said, his face crimson. "Activate the troops. Shoot to kill."
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SG1 were at the gates of the village when the alarm rang out. The villagers disappeared into their houses, clearly aware of what was to come. Within seconds, dozens of guards spewed from the door in the stone building. They wore heavy black armour and helmets. Mitchell hoped that it would buy them a little time. They picked up pace, running as quickly as the sand would allow them. Carter was the first to reach the gate, dialling in the address for Earth. The movement of the ring whilst it locked in the symbols seemed interminable. Amelia was the only one of the three of them who was unarmed. Her frustration was almost overwhelming. She knew that she was a better shot than either Mitchell or Carter who were currently defending their position. The alien guards were getting ever closer. Amelia slipped off her rucksack and snatched Mitchell's Beretta M9 from his holster, ignoring his objections, and began to fire. She took out two of the oncoming soldiers with direct hits to their legs.
The whoosh of the wormhole forming was a huge relief. Mitchell keyed in the code to the IDC and waited for confirmation. Finally, it came through.
"We're coming in hot," he called into his radio as Amelia and Carter continued to return fire.
"Go!" Mitchell cried out to them.
"Hendrik," Carter yelled over the sound of the alien weapons. Amelia backed up the steps, still firing. Carter stepped through fully expecting Amelia to be right behind her. Mitchell could see her from the corner of his eye.
"Millie, get out of here!" he shouted.
"I'm not leaving without you. We go together, now!" she replied. They both turned and raced up the stairs. A shot hit the gate to their right. Mitchell automatically ducked but a second shot caught him in the arm. Amelia saw the blood spreading on the sleeve of his desert camouflage. She shoved him through the gate. She fired one last time, hitting a soldier in the neck. Blood gushed from the wound. Quickly she turned, snatching up the rucksack and pulling it over her left shoulder. Something caught her eye as she made to step through. It looked like some kind of camera. A crackle of electricity filled the air. Amelia felt the heat on her back and the searing pain as the force of the bolt pushed her into the Stargate.