Author's note: Revised 10.10.04
CHAPTER FIVE: REVEALED?
Jack O'Neill resisted the urge to kick in the walls of the elevator.
He had been tired when he started the shift - repeatedly waking up in case you were about to be abducted by aliens did that to you. Not that he intended to let Fraiser or any of his team in on this little problem.
No need, since he had a solution.
Or so he'd thought.
Now he wasn't so sure. For four hours he had been calm and professional, maintaining his usual banter, as his plans had been repeatedly disrupted, or had plain out failed to come off.
He hadn't thought he'd unduly monstered the bright young things NORAD liked to recruit.
And for four hours, he had put up with the steady increase in the ache of his wounds.
Now, he had had enough.
He had hoped for a lazy shift in NORAD, a chance to try out the new detection technique - his Thor Detection Technique, as he liked to think of it.
First, though, it had been disrupted by Ferretti's little imbroglio.
Then, the unexpected decay from orbit of OSCAR 11 had meant they'd actually had to run the Alien Incursion Detection Protocol. A Protocol that had proved time-consuming and ultimately fruitless in this case. A good thing, he supposed, although the reason for the satellite's destruction was still unclear. He often wondered, now, why they bothered, given that the Asgard - and goodness knew who else - could float around in orbit without detection, and had done so apparently, for years.
The real issue, he knew, was the new detection technique. He had been so sure that the technique would bust them. But when he'd finally had a chance to try it out, the new technique he'd pinned his hopes on simply hadn't worked.
It was enough to make you weep.
Or kick the walls in.
He'd been so sure he'd got it this time.
Of course, if he'd realized just a bit earlier - or the kid had 'fessed up sooner - that Lt Adams was one of the author's of the paper he had based his approach on, they might have been able to work together and had it figured out by now. It had been a while, though, since he'd read the thing. He made a mental note to check Adam's personnel file - he was sure he would have remembered if it had passed his desk.
The final straw had come just as he had been about to go another round on the data. It was bad enough that the ache from his wounds had been steadily increasing over the last few hours. He really didn't need Fraiser to phone up Space Control to haul him out, even if she had mentioned short hours as a condition of his light duties status.
OK, well actually, she hadn't just called - she'd sent Teal'c up to ensure his compliance. It was insulting. Worse still that Teal'c had gone along with it. It was adding insult to injury. Literally.
He attempted to divert his pain and frustration into forward planning. The weight of the data memory stick in his pocket made him remember that not all was lost. He had the means to thwart Dr Fraiser's nannying yet, and maybe work out what had gone wrong with his experiment.
He just had to get past Teal'c first.
He bottled up his anger, and smoothed out his voice, trying to sound genial. He had been standing, he realized, at rigid parade rest. He made himself slump back to his usual casual posture, and attempted to bring his face back to an expression of polite attention.
"Thanks Teal'c," he said, attempting to get rid of his minder as quickly as possible, so he could get down to work. "I'll go and have a rest now, if you don't mind."
"Dr Fraiser has instructed me to ensure that you consume appropriate quantities of protein before you rest, O'Neill," Teal'c replied. "She was quite insistent on the importance of this in assisting your prompt recovery from your wounds."
Jack almost hit out at him there and then, aching arm or not. What was he, a three-year old? He kept himself under control, however, even as Teal'c directed him firmly towards the Commissary.
When he reached the counter, he even dutifully collected a tray of food that paid at least lip service to Fraiser's commands (ice cream, after all, is protein, and goes very nicely with jello).
He realized that the pain was getting worse when even the weight of the tray was enough to make his arm hurt. He refused to let the pain rule him.
"How is your recovery proceeding, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked as they settled down to eat, seemingly oblivious to the wall of sullen silence he had attempted to erect.
"Dr Fraiser seemed most concerned that you might suffer a relapse."
"She's just worried about her nurses," he replied. "Apparently they threatened to walk out if I came back any time soon. Of which, I might add, there is absolutely no danger."
Teal'c raised his eyebrow at him.
"I'm fine, Teal'c," he said softly, attempting to reassure his teammate. I just need a bit of rest."
Actually, he really did feel extremely sore and quite tired. If he wanted real sleep though, he really needed to make some more progress. He inhaled the reviving steam from his coffee, and took several large gulps in the hope that the caffeine would hit his system faster.
Conscious of Teal'c's steady gaze on him, Jack attacked his food, contributing a little clanging counterpoint to the clatter of people eating their meals, stacking dishes, and just chattering.
After staring at him for another moment as if trying pry open his head Teal'c started consuming his own tray-load of food.
They had nearly finished when Teal'c tried again. "You appear very tense this morning, O'Neill," he said. "What is occupying your thoughts?"
Jack resisted the temptation to speak the unpalatable truth. Instead, he put down his spoon from the last taste of ice cream, leaned back, and tried to pull together an explanation that would sound normal, but which might discourage further inquiries. He settled on the edge of the events that preoccupied him.
"The Asgard," he replied. "NORAD had a satellite drop out of orbit today for no apparent reason. They decided to try out this new technique. It seemed like it might be able to detect any Asgard vessels lurking around, you know, maybe give me a bit of advance warning before Thor – or anyone else - does his beam me up thingy."
He suddenly realized that his hands were waving around in front of Teal'c's face, echoing his agitated thoughts, and stilled them quickly. "They didn't find a thing though," he said.
Teal'c stared at him, clearly wondering how to pursue the real issue. Jack moved his eyes down and stared at a spot on the table.
"You are still disturbed about Loki's experiments on you, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked.
"Nah, it's OK. Dr Fraiser found nothing wrong with me. Apart from Thor's little marker on my genes of course," he replied, not looking at Teal'c.
But he knew he wasn't fine really. Teal'c's question set him off again. He just couldn't get rid of the itchy feeling that he was going to be beamed up at any moment. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl.
It's not happening, he told himself, as he felt a tingling sensation flit across his skin. He was NOT about to be beamed up.
It had only been a few weeks, after all, since the renegade Asgard Loki had beamed him up in his sleep, experimented on him, and attempted to cover his absence by substituting a short-lived clone. He would have gotten away with it too. The only reason it hadn't worked was that the copy hadn't matured properly, thanks to Thor's prior genetic tinkering. As a result, his clone had been - and still was - trapped in a teenage body. Mind you, he probably would have been over the Loki thing by now, if it hadn't been for his last little adventure with Thor. Jack's anger surged to the surface again.
A Goa'uld had captured his friend Thor's ship, and used the transporter to torture him – beaming him choice locations such as the boiling heat of a volcano, the freezing Arctic sea, and the poisonous gases of a chemical manufacturing process – then rescued and repaired him. Over and over again.
Maybe he ought to be working on a jamming device for the transporter beam, instead of a Thor Detection Device, he thought, depressed.
Certainly, at his current rate he might have more success.
"Asgard technology is very sophisticated," Teal'c said, piercing the surrounding clatter, and seemingly echoing Jack's thoughts. "The ability to detect their cloaking technology has eluded the system lords for many years."
"Yes, but Thor's given us a cloaking device for the Prometheus," he responded sharply. "That ought to be enough for us to be able to work out how to detect them."
Jack found himself almost shaking with agitation and fatigue. He took a deep calming breath to get himself back under control. Yes, he realized, control was the issue.
The real problem was that he simply resented Thor's cavalier attitude to the use of his transporter.
A resentment intensified by his experiences under the Goa'uld Lenthos.
No, don't go there, he told himself.
Quickly, he cut off the train of thought.
"Anyway Teal'c, you've done your duty now - I've consumed protein, now I really need to get some rest if you don't mind," he said impatiently.
Sensibly deciding that discretion was the better part of valor at this point, Teal'c bowed his head in acquiescence as he got up and walked out of the room.
Jack snuck into his office, and started to plan his mission. He really needed access to Carter's lab - he needed her supercomputer and optical parametric amplifier. Only the best toys for our Carter, he thought. This meant he had to find a way to extract Carter from her lab. It would require all of his tactical skills.
He logged in to his own terminal first, and checked the duty roster. He quickly established that no teams were off world, giving him a bit more leeway. Nor was Sam actually on duty, which in theory at least should make things easier. He'd lay odds though, that she was actually there anyway.
He used his personal clearance to hack into the security camera feeds. Sure enough, Sam was busily at work. Jack tapped once again into the base's systems, and carefully set up a Gate systems failure drill on the DHD computer. It was, after all, he reasoned smugly, the job of a good 2IC to run appropriate drills to keep everyone on their toes. Pushing the execute button, he sat back and waited for mayhem to break out.
It went like clockwork. The alarms rang, and Carter ran to the Gateroom. He grabbed the data stick, and headed for Carter's lab. Once it was all set, he could leave it to run and it would only take a few seconds to pick up the output later, but he had to do the programming from there. Half an hour ought to do it, he estimated, and the drill ought to keep them busy for at least an hour, even with Carter helping.
Once there, he sat down and got to work. He ignored the now steady throbbing coming from his arm, set up the equipment, and started programming the runs.
He was deeply engrossed in analyzing a couple of the data tracks. He noticed some odd patterns they were exhibiting, and was about to backtrack them to their sources, when he heard someone clearing their throat - her throat.
"Ss...Sir, what are you doing here?" She stuttered. "Shouldn't you be resting, Sir?" she said.
"More to the point, Major, what are you doing here. Shouldn't you be helping out on the drill?" he responded, hoping that attack would prove the best form of defense.
"Colonel Wajevsky banished me," she replied. "Said I was officially off-duty, and in a real situation could well be off-world. He insisted the drill had to be completed by the officers on-shift. I stayed for a while to observe, but then he decided I was covertly trying to help them."
Jack gritted his teeth. Trust Wajevsky to screw up his planning and take advantage of the situation to promote his favorite cause, namely grounding Major Carter in the interests of base security.
"Never mind, Carter, I'll just leave you to it, then," he said, turning back to the terminal to shut down the program and retrieve his data.
"What were you trying to do, Sir?" she replied. "Perhaps I can help."
Before he could close it down, she walked closer to the monitors and started studying the data still visible on the screen over his shoulder. He clenched his fists as she geared up to try and bedazzle him with techno-babble. He pushed his chair away, readying himself for escape.
"This looks like a tracking run from NORAD," she said, half to herself. "No, I see," she said, "This is a new configuration. Very elegant, I'd never have thought of that. Something odd about a couple of these data tracks though..."
As she spoke, she grabbed another chair, and started playing with the console. After a couple of seconds, she leapt up, and went to examine the programs he had already loaded on her other equipment, sitting ready to execute. He sat, frozen into place as she started to play with his data.
She turned to glare at him. "What were you doing with this, Sir," she asked, clearly annoyed. "You could have destroyed my system, not to mention some valuable data from NORAD. If you were trying to do someone a favor and run some data through our systems, just ask me next time. I'd be happy to do it."
"Besides, I'd really like to meet whoever it was that thought of this. I'd read that paper by Adams, Edwards and Watson, but I really would never have thought of this application of it, let alone this creative adaptation. It's brilliant. Can you introduce me to the scientist who did it?"
As she spoke, all the anger and frustration of the last few weeks boiled up inside Jack. His anger at Loki; and at Thor. The pain from his wounds from his last little solo mission, the mission that had resulted in his current wounds, when the Goa'uld had tortured him.
Old, bitter, memories welled up in him. Voices whispered in his head, calling him a charlatan; incompetent; a pseudo-scientist.
Most of all though, he remembered all the times he had played dumb for his team, using his supposed lack of knowledge to draw them out. He remembered all the times he had given her the vital clue, or quietly solved the scientific problem of the day without Carter ever even realizing that she hadn't done it all herself. There had been times when he'd all but rubbed her nose in it - when her dialing program had almost destroyed Freyr's planet, K'tau for example, and he'd saved the day. But she still hadn't got it.
Finally, Jack snapped. He stood up, deliberately looming over her menacingly.
"That would be me, Major, " he replied tautly. "I was the one who thought of the application of the paper to the Asgard shields, I would be the one who adapted the technique. So you have met the inventor, and I was running the program on behalf of myself."
She stood up, and looked at him with obvious pity in her eyes. He moved closer, invading her personal space to glare back, hard-faced. He gripped his hands tightly behind his back.
"As, I might add, I have run numerous other programs perfectly competently in the past," he said. "I am fully qualified at what I do, and do not require any assistance, other than access to the equipment, from you. If you have any doubts as to the safety of your equipment, I suggest you look up my record. You should find it quite illuminating."
His face, he knew, was burning red, his body coiled tense. His arm throbbed as the burns stretched tight.
In front of him, Carter was gulping, frozen in place with fear.
As she should be, he thought. She'd seen him almost kill a man in anger on K'tar.
Get a grip, O'Neill, he told himself. She isn't taking in a word you say. And you can't throttle her until she does get it. Get out of here before you do something you'll regret.
Leaving the data flashing on the screen, he turned and stalked out of the office. As he turned the corner, he increased his speed, desperate to work off the adrenaline flooding his body. He'd really blown it this time, he realized. He'd let all the old shame, the old anger get the better of him.
True, it wasn't as if this was a mission, where maintaining his cover was a matter of life or death. He was no longer even sure why he continued to hide his scientific skills from his team. All the same, he really hadn't meant to let it all fly out.
Almost running now, he headed directly for the elevators. He needed to get out of the Mountain, away from his team and anyone who knew him.
This time the elevator didn't escape his onslaught.