Chapter 22

Hunkered down at the base of the stargate, darkness their only concealment from the brightly lit Wydra Hall half a football field away at the far end of the plaza, Sam and Jacob Carter probed the alien circuitry of the mechanism that raised the gate. Having failed to figure out how to operate the controls that moved the massive lifting device, Sam had pried off the back of the panel, hoping to hotwire the machine using bare circuits. But she and Jacob had discovered an utterly unfamiliar technology of gels encased in tubes surrounded by a spiderweb of plastic-like wiring. No combination they tried had yet activated the system. Sam had been systematically moving through the innards, uncoupling and coupling connections. Despite the chill of the air, she felt perspiration trickling down between her breasts.

Selmak had not been as helpful as they'd hoped, the technology being as foreign to her as it was to Sam. Apparently the Kalam had been isolated from contact with other technologies for a very long time, with the result that their science had developed along unique lines.

"Try that one," her father whispered.

"I already did!"

"No need to be snappy."

Sam closed her eyes a moment. "Sorry. It's just…frustrating."

They had to get the gate working or the children and SG-1 would be overwhelmed by the dragnet of security forces that had been dropped over the city. The blare of sirens was constant, and even aerial craft were sweeping the city with searchlights. She and Jacob had no sooner attained their position at the stargate when several vehicles sped across the plaza. Sam and her dad had flattened themselves to the pavement, but the cars continued past them to the Wydra building. Apparently the 'gate was not considered a likely target of SG-1, as no one had been dispatched to guard it.

Sam glanced across the plaza to the Hall of Wydra, to its windows all lit up and to the cars that now stood silent at the entrance, the police having swarmed into the building. She hated to imagine what it was like for Daniel and Teal'c and fifty kids trying to make their way here. And what about the colonel? Had he made it out? Or had he and Jaira been found? What would the Kalam do to him if they caught him? The lack of radio contact was killing her.

Her hand slipped and she swore colorfully.

"Sam, you okay?"

"I'm fine." She tried another connection. Nothing. She would be no help to the colonel if she screwed this up.

~o~

Jack stumbled, almost hitting the ground with his burden of Jaira as pain rocketed up his arm. Another shot from his pursuers exploded the top of the wall, raining bits of stone onto them. Gritting his teeth against the burning in his arm, he dove through the hole in the wall with Jaira clinging to him like ivy on brick, her arms and legs vise-like around him, her face pressed into the angle of his neck and his shoulder. She was welded to him so tightly he hardly needed to hold her, which was a good thing. His right arm had fallen limply to his side.

He ducked into an alley, which was bisected a block later by another narrow street, and he took a left. He heard footsteps pounding down the alley behind him. On his right a hill rose steeply, shrouded in trees and shrubs. Stone stairs led up through the garden, and Jack took them two at a time. Homes fronted the gardens on each side, their facades dark. The jungle of vegetation was also wrapped in darkness, and partway up the steps Jack dove into the midst of it. With a rustle of leaves, he hid himself and Jaira under a clump of sweet-smelling bushes and tried to still his ragged breath.

Steps pounded in the street below. Instructions were barked, and boots thumped up the stairs while others continued down the street. Shielding Jaira with his body, Jack pressed his face to the humus. Jaira's trembling was a constant vibration against his body. He pressed his lips to the top of her head.

The boots paused nearby. Jack fumbled with his left hand under his body, trying to reach his sidearm. His fingers closed on it at last, and he held his breath. The footsteps resumed, their sound receding up the hill. Then silence.

Jack waited, counting to sixty. Then to sixty again. Stifling a groan at the throbbing in his arm, he shifted to a sitting position. He patted Jaira all around, feeling for wounds. Thank God, the shots had missed her. "It's okay, baby," he said. "They're gone." He heard some sniffles. "You did great. You were real quiet." She disengaged herself from his neck and pulled back to look at him from an inch away. Half of her face was smudged with his black face paint, making her look like a miniature coal miner. He almost laughed.

"You keeped us safe," she said.

Barely, he thought. He had to do a better job than this if he wanted to get her and the others out alive. But it only redoubled his determination. He hadn't kept his first child safe. He wouldn't fail with this one. He couldn't.

Tenderly he tried to rub the blacking off her face while he waited for his heart rate to resume a normal rhythm. He noticed that her teeth were chattering. Pulling a small, crumpled, spare tunic from a deep pocket in his trousers, he coaxed her into it. Not much, but it would have to do.

Jaira looked at his hands. "Why don't your gloves have fingers?" Then she saw his arm. "Jack, you're bleeding!" She pronounced it "bweeding."

"Shh. It's okay, just a scratch." Nudging her off his lap, he removed his vest and jacket. Jaira retrieved her doll while he began to dress the wound with his first-aid kit. He worked to the steady accompaniment of soft whispers. Yes, he got shooted, er, shot. No, he wasn't going to die. Yes, it hurts. No, you can't touch it. This is medicine. It helps it get better. Yes, you can help with the bandage. That's it, around and around. Hold this end. Good girl.

Mercifully the shot had gone clean through muscle, not bone, or he wouldn't have the use of his arm. As it was, the throbbing extended up and over his shoulder as well as all the way down to his hand, making movement difficult. But he'd endured worse. Gingerly he drew on his jacket. He was perspiring with the effort, and paused for a moment, hugging his injured arm against his side and closing his eyes against the pain.

When he opened them again, Jaira was gone.

Crap! He called her name in a hoarse whisper, fear hammering inside his chest.

Her head poked out from behind a bush. "What, Jack?"

"Jeez, don't do that!"

"Do what?"

"Run off like that."

"I want to play hidey hole."

The hammering slowed to a measured thud. "We can't play that right now. Come on back here." She returned to his side and flopped onto her back in the leaves. He rooted around in the first aid kid until he found the Tylenol, and popped a couple of pills in his mouth.

"Wook!" Jaira pointed up.

He looked. Above the trees, stars glittered. "You like the stars?" he said.

The leaves rustled as her head moved up and down. "That's where my papa is."

Jack froze in the act of pulling on his vest and looked at her. She seemed oblivious of him, her gaze instead on the heavens where her absent father was. His heartbeat seemed very loud. What notions had she created about him? What if…? He swallowed. What if he didn't measure up?

"He does, huh?" He hoped it sounded casual enough.

"That's what Mama says. Garan's papa is with the ancestors." It came out "ansters." "But my papa lives in the stars."

Jack finished drawing on his vest. "I'm sure your mama is right."

"Garan says my papa was this tall." She raised her hands above her head, her doll dropping into the leaves. "And he made nails and builded houses." Jack stowed the first aid kit in his pocket. "Then he went back to the stars." She sounded sad.

She had to know the truth sometime. But was this the time? His mouth felt dry. "Jaira."

"What, Jack?"

He coughed a little and said, "I guess your doll is from the stars too? That's why she's called Star?"

"She's not from the stars." She sighed heavily at his ignorance. "I just call her that. But sometimes I pretend that she's my star baby. Like my star papa."

Maybe he should tell her. No. They had to get moving. They had to-

"Star doesn't have a papa." She sat up and cocked her head to one side, scrutinizing him as if appraising his worthiness. "Do you want to be her papa?"

His hands shook slightly as he zipped his vest. A little post-injury shock, he thought. "Do you think Star would like that?" Blond curls bobbed up and down. "Then I'd be honored to be her papa."

Her dark eyes examined him a moment longer, then she thrust the doll into his hands. He stowed it safely in his jacket.

"It's time to go now," he said, pushing himself up with effort. He'd deal with that other thing, the dad thing, later.

"Can't we play hidey hole some more?"

"Not now. Now let's play you ride on my back."

Jack crouched so she could climb onto his back, and hooking his good arm under her left leg, returned down the steps the way they'd come. His wounded arm pulsing, he jogged through the streets, heading for high ground and a view from which to orient himself.

He had lost his bearings, in more ways than one.

~o~

"Remind me, Teal'c, if I ever get married again, not to have fifty children."

"I will do that, Daniel Jackson."

It was only fear that was holding the children in some semblance of order and cohesion. Daniel was reminded of the field trips he had taken in Mrs. Robertson's third grade class, and his respect for the hard-working teacher grew exponentially.

Teal'c had been cautious and led them on a long and circuitous route to the plaza, avoiding the main streets. Finally they had reached the edge of the plaza. Keeping to the inky shadows of one of the buildings, they looked across the plaza to the Hall of Wydra, which was brightly lit with a dozen or so vehicles parked in front of it. But in the middle of the plaza where the stargate lay it was dark and quiet.

"Can you see Sam or Jacob, Teal'c?"

"There. On the other side of the chappa'ai."

Daniel peered into the darkness and saw a shadow move within a shadow next to the horizontal 'gate. Jack had said no radios but... "I need to let them know we're here," he said, and depressed the switch. "Sam?"

There was answering static, then, "Sitrep, Daniel."

"We're at your nine o'clock."

"Roger that. And the missing package?"

Daniel looked at Teal'c in confusion. O'Neill, the other mouthed silently. Oh. "That would be negative," said Daniel.

There was silence from the other end. Finally Sam said, "Copy that. Stand by."

He lowered himself to the pavement. The child he had been carrying, a boy no more than three years old, sat down beside him. Dark eyes gazed up at him from an ebony face. Daniel put his arm around the child's shoulders and pulled him close. The kid was shivering. He and Teal'c had distributed all the extra tunics they'd grabbed in the children's home, but it wasn't enough to hold off the cold.

They sat in tense silence for several minutes. Then Daniel heard a groan. "Everyone okay?" he whispered.

"It's Naytha," Garan said from somewhere in the group. "She is very weak."

"I'll be all right," Naytha's voice came through the darkness.

Daniel shoved his glasses onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes. He rose and made his way through the group to the couple, the little boy trailing behind him. Even in the darkness Naytha looked pale and wan.

"Naytha," said Teal'c, coming to join them, "use my jacket as a pillow and rest while you have the opportunity." He helped the pregnant woman stretch out on the cold ground.

Garan clasped her hand in his. He looked at Daniel and Teal'c, and his voice held an edge of panic. "Her time is near."

"Don't be foolish, Garan," Naytha said. She looked at the other two men. "He worries too much. I am only tired from so much walking."

"Hopefully we'll be out of here soon," Daniel said.

Naytha touched his sleeve. "Thank you for coming to help us. Have you heard if Garan's sister is safe?"

"No, nothing yet."

She smiled at him, and even through her weakness it was a dazzling smile. Daniel understood why Garan had fallen in love with this sweet soul. "I'm sure Jack will save her," she said.

Her serenity and confidence buoyed him. "Of course he will," he said softly.

Daniel settled himself again. Clothing rustled for a moment, then all was silence. The child who still stuck to him shivered against his side and whimpered. Another child began to cry and was quickly hushed.

Deciding it was time for last-ditch measures, Daniel reached into a vest pocket and pulled out reinforcements. Jack had made sure that all members of SG-1 were well supplied. In the darkness Daniel squinted at the objects in his hands. They were a little squashed but still serviceable.

He began to peel the wrapper from a Milky Way bar. "Does anyone here like candy?"

For a moment no one spoke or moved. Then one of the non-Edoran kids said, "I do." Daniel broke the candy bar in two and handed her a half. Others of the unknown children reached out their hands as he and Teal'c passed out the candy, but the Edorans just watched nervously. Odd, thought Daniel. Maybe it's a cultural thing. He was about to question them when Naytha spoke.

"It's all right, children. These are our friends. You may eat the sweets."

After that they ate, and Daniel filed away his question for later.

~o~

Knee replacements. He decided that would be item numero uno on his To Do list when he got back. Doc Frasier had been talking up the surgery for a while and he'd been ignoring her, hating the thought of anyone hacking away at his bones and inserting plastic parts. But now…

Jack shoved the pain shooting up from his knees to the same place he'd stowed the ache radiating from his wounded arm, and continued his jog down a dank alley, Jaira jouncing on his back. He had tried to give his knees a break by running with her beside him, half dragging her through dark streets and up and down hills, dodging security forces at every turn. But she slowed his pace, and it had not taken long before she was whimpering that her "foots hurted." So he had resorted once again to carrying her piggyback. She weighed about the same as a heavy pack on a twenty-mile endurance hike, but the combination of her bouncing and the steep inclines was reminding him, not for the first time, why there were so many retired air force colonels in Colorado Springs.

He knew he was close to the plaza. The buildings had become larger and more ornate, and several blocks away one of them was brightly lit. It had to be the Wydra headquarters. The sexless council members were undoubtedly in there right now, their braids all in a knot over this upheaval in their preciously stagnant little world.

He heard the thrum from the helicopter-type craft that was patrolling the city from above, and ducked into a doorway to escape the searchlight that slashed across the street. Jaira's breath was warm against his ear. He turned his head, his lips brushing her cheek. "You okay, baby?" Her head moved up and down, then dropped heavily onto his shoulder.

The thrumming of the aircraft receding, Jack crept out of the shadows and jogged toward the plaza.

~o~

"They want the Silak'ha and the children!" Bok'n said. His legs weary from pacing the stone floor of the Hall of Wydra, he paused before the window overlooking the Great Plaza, serene in its darkness. Beyond it, somewhere in the city, were the aliens. They would be found, of that he had no doubt. But in the meantime his fury at their treachery threatened to choke him.

"They want the children, yes," D'nae said. "But I don't believe they know about Silak'ha."

"Don't be absurd, D'nae," Oren said. "Of course they know about the Silak'ha. Why else would they have attacked the Hall of Knowledge?" She looked around the room. "And where is Viorel? Her absence confirms that she is the traitor."

D'nae shook his head. "We don't know that. Perhaps the attack on the Hall of Knowledge was a diversion to distract our attention from their true purpose: to take the children."

"But they don't need children!" Oren cried. "They said they had too many."

"Lies," ground out Bok'n, resuming his pacing back to the table where their votes had been cast the previous day. Their votes to let the aliens remain. Stupidity! "They've told us nothing but lies." The one called O'Neill especially. One look at him had told the provost all he needed to know about the man, that he should never have been trusted.

"Perhaps they weren't lying," said D'nae. "They know those children. I believe the discovery of them brought with it an understanding of our ways. And they do not approve of our ways."

From his seat on the divan Tallin said, "Maybe they're right, Provost. It might be time for us to reconsider the kal'meria."

Bok'n stared at him. Was there no end to the treachery he had to face amongst his magistrates? "Have you lost your mind, Tallin?"

Oren moved close to him. "Don't listen to him, Provost."

"Do listen to him, Provost," D'nae said. "The aliens' objection to our taking children from other planets has merit. I don't believe we have given sufficient consideration to the consequences of our missions."

"That's ridiculous," said Bok'n. "We liberate them. What better consequence could there be?"

"Do we? I don't believe we've ever reckoned the cost to the people whose children we liberate."

Bok'n sneered. "They are animals. They can beget more children. It is no loss to them." He turned away from D'nae, tired of the arguing. Where were the aliens? Why hadn't they been captured yet? He stalked to the window, turning his back to his traitorous council.

D'nae went on, "I have thought for some time that we should pursue more peaceful means to augmenting our population."

"Shut up!" As if they didn't have enough to drive them to distraction already. Questioning the kal'meria, the centuries-old lifeblood of their society, was beyond toleration. In the reflection of the glass he could see D'nae watching him. That one, and Viorel - most monstrous betrayer of all - would be dealt with after this was all over. "I don't care what you think, D'nae. We will not-"

He swallowed the rest of his words. Something was moving in the plaza below. Bok'n pressed his face against the window to see better. As he watched, the Ring of Transport slowly began to rise. A frisson of dread crawled over his skin, replaced almost immediately by a thrilling tingle. His reflection in the dark glass revealed a smile curling the corner of his wide mouth.

"At least now we know where they are," he said.