'What the…' Jack thought as the dirt beneath his boot moved. He glanced down and could feel his eyes widen as he watched the dirt crawl up his foot, circle over his ankle, and continue north up his leg.
Normally, dirt didn't do that.
It was right about then that commonsense exited stage right.
It seemed like a good idea when it popped into his mind, but the execution of the idea was somewhat lacking. Shifting his weight to his left leg, Jack lifted his right foot in an attempt to shake the dirt free.
That, however, only seemed to make it worse.
He started to backpedal, trying to get up the slope, but it felt as if the dirt was making his legs heavy. Trying to scramble backwards, he tried to move, but the dirt under his feet kept sliding away, as if it were running water, his grip on the wall the only thing keeping him upright.
Aiming his flashlight backwards he glanced over his shoulder, trying to judge how much further he had to go before he reached the top, but the particles caught in the beam had thickened, the dust heavy in the air.
For a moment, he thought the dust was swarming, like it was some kind of sentient life form. His chuckle turned to a cough.
It was then that his feet slipped out from under him.
In an effort to slow his descent, he tried to dig in his heels, but nothing was working right. His legs felt numb and unresponsive, his arms and hands feeling leaden. Each passing breath was harder to take as the dirt and dust from his headlong flight to the bottom of the slope kicked it high into the air.
Hitting a bump, he started to tumble, head over heels, down becoming up and up down. With each and every contact he made with the ground, scrapes and bruises were added to the total, the numbers rising exponentially.
The stalagmite at the bottom stopped him cold, the crack in its side showing green—a crack Jack didn't see.
With his breath knocked out, he laid on the ground in a heap for several minutes trying to pull oxygen into his burning lungs. But with each successive inhalation came a series of coughs, each deeper than the next.
Movement of the dirt under his body propelled him to his feet and he stood there swaying as he tried to regain his senses in the dark, his large flashlight lost in his tumble.
Searching his vest, his hands finally latched onto the smaller flashlight he always carried and switched it on, grateful it worked.
What he saw, though, surprised him.
He was in a huge hall, a cavern surrounded by hundreds and thousands of stalagmites and stalactites, in all shapes and sizes. His feet dragging, he pushed himself forward, searching for another way out, but it was hard and he was tired.
He pointed the light downward, toward the ground that was still moving under his boots.
The dirt—non-dirt or whatever—had shifted higher finding the tear in his BDUs and was sliding against his bare skin, numbing it wherever it went. He was already losing feeling in his hands, the fingers going numb where they were exposed to the air. His neck and face were in a similar state.
The little buggers were getting into everything.
He could feel them traveling down his shirt, crawling down his spine.
He was covered in them.
The ones that weren't on his skin were coating his uniform in a thick beige crust.
He was tired.
He'd stopped moving, he realized, several minutes ago. But even as he felt parts of his body go numb, his mind was clearing.
His P90 was gone, lost somewhere in the caves. It was the dust, the dirt, that caused this. It was sentient, it had to be.
He had to tell his team, they had to know.
Forcing his free hand upward, one inch at a time, he aimed for his radio, a radio his fumbling fingers discovered was not there.
Another thing lost, dropped somewhere in the tunnels; his only link with the outside world gone.
The flashlight dropped from his fingers, hitting the ground with a thump as the light dimmed and then extinguished.
But even in the dark he could still feel them moving.
XXX
Daniel's eyes were starting to cross. Reading pages and pages of scientific reports—most of which he didn't understand—made him want to gouge his eyes out. Must be the same reaction Jack has to memos and staff reports.
Sliding his glasses up onto his forehead, he rubbed his hands across his face, trying to wipe some of the cobwebs away. They'd been pouring through everything in the room—from reports to computer files to scribbled notes on napkins—and nothing significant had popped up. They could spend weeks here and they'd hardly put a dent in it.
How could six scientists make so much paper?
Teal'c had gotten up a few minutes ago to take a walk around the perimeter of the camp. They'd set up the lights earlier, illuminating everything, with the thought that if any of the scientists or Jack were lost, they'd be able to spot the camp from miles away.
Sam had sectioned off the main lab into three zones, each of them responsible for everything within that area. Somehow, Daniel had gotten stuck with a good portion of the geological and environmental data, which he though couldn't be that difficult to understand.
How wrong he'd been.
From what he could gather, Wales and Andrews hadn't concentrated on any particular section of the planet, instead choosing to do a general survey of the area from the river to the foothills of the mountains.
Compared to Earth, things were different from the apportion of minerals in the soil to the nutrients in the air and water. Even the sunlight had its own characteristics.
An initial survey of the caves and tunnels had shown an increase in mineral concentration and an unusually rich soil base, some of which had been brought back for closer study. A complaint about the lack of moisture in the caves was noted twice by Wales and attributed to the altitude of the mountain range. The notes also indicated that Wales had planned further investigation of the caves and mountains, but there was no record as to whether it was followed-up up or not.
An aerial survey of the planet was going to be part of their next step in mapping the area, a request penciled in for the next communication with the SGC along with additional equipment—a report that was never made.
"Sam," Daniel said, shifting to glance across the room at his teammate who was similarly slumped in her chair. "Anything?"
She shook her head, her hand rubbing the back of her neck as she stretched to get some of the kinks out. "Nothing, at least nothing that looks menacing or dangerous. For all intents and purposes this is an average, boring nondescript planet."
Daniel chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, one that eats scientists and Colonels for breakfast."
Before Sam could comment, however, a crackle over the radios quickly pulled their attention to the little box sitting on the table. "SG-1, this is Hammond, do you read?"
Reaching over, Sam snagged the radio, pressing the button to activate it as he brought it up to her mouth. "Carter here, Sir."
"Major, where's Colonel O'Neill?"
She hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding, but her voice was steady when she spoke the words they were all dreading, the words that made it all real. "Missing, Sir."
"Missing? What happened?" Teal'c entered the lab on the heels of Hammond's words, his eyes meeting Daniel's, a silent shake of his head indicating that nothing had changed outside.
"We'd split up to cover more ground and the Colonel missed a radio contact. By the time we got back to camp it was too dark to start looking for him. We have to wait until first light before we can begin again since we don't have the right equipment."
"What do you need, Major?"
"Complete search-and-rescue gear. We're fearing the worst since the Colonel was investigating the nearby caves."
"I remember Colonel Carpenter mentioning them in a recent report. Are you thinking cave-in?"
"It's possible, Sir. There's no interference to speak of, so the Colonel would answer his radio if he were able. You might want to send Doctor Fraiser."
"Negative. Unfortunately, SG-2 encountered some hostiles during a recent recon and she's up to her eyeballs treating them. I'll send SG-8 along with SG-3, instead. SG-5 can remain here unless you think an additional team will be necessary."
"I don't think so, General."
"I'll have the teams prepare for departure. How quickly do you need them deployed?"
"It's pointless to send them now since they'll just be stumbling around in the dark. First light would be a better option, Sir, which should be in about six hours. From the scientist's notes the days are shorter here."
"Understood, Major. Anything else?"
"General," Daniel interrupted. "Would it be possible to get an UAV launched? We might be able to get a better idea on their location from the bio sensor on the UAV. It might help point us in the right direction."
"Major, do you agree with Doctor Jackson?"
"I think it's a good idea, but I'm worried that if they're within the caves the sensors might not be able to penetrate the rock."
"I'll have Major Warren take a look at the reports the scientists sent back to see what he recommends. Either way, reinforcements will be coming to you in six hours. Get some rest people. Hammond out."
As the radio fell silent, Daniel glanced between his friends, the finality of their situation crashing down around him. At least with SG-8 on the way whoever they found would be in good medical hands and Major Warren was nearly as bad as Jack when it came to sheer stubbornness.
They'd find him and the scientists. They had to.
Hopefully, it wasn't too late.
XXX
It was strange.
This disembodied feeling of floating was peculiar.
He knew he was standing, yet couldn't feel his feet.
He knew he was breathing, yet he couldn't feel the rise and fall of his chest.
Even if it wasn't dark, pitch black in reality, his world had become reduced to what he could barely hear. For a while, he'd been able to feel the movement on his neck and face as the crust of dirt or dust or whatever it was had continued to build, layer by layer.
He could still hear himself breathe, however.
But even that was slowing, each breath more shallow than the one before.
He was dying.
Bit by bit, piece by peace.
He knew it was true, he could feel it in his heart and his soul.
Soon the layers would be too thick to allow even the passage of air and his inhalations would stop.
And on that final exhale he would make his peace—with himself and with the universe.
But until that time he would wait and listen to the slow breaths that kept him alive, as he became one more addition to the cavern, a landmark of the most fragile kind.
XXX
A clamor in the camp quickly roused Daniel from an uneasy sleep, his eyes squinting at his wristwatch in an effort to see the time.
What was going on at the god-awful hour of four in the morning?
Swinging his feet off the bed and sitting up, Daniel rubbed a hand across his face and reached for his glasses with his left hand, placing them lightly on his nose. A quick glance around the bunk tent revealed it empty.
Had something happened?
Stumbling to his feet, grateful for the three hours of sleep he'd gotten but knowing that it wasn't enough, he shoved open the door into the darkness outside.
Another glance at his watch confirmed the time, but as he rounded the corner he discovered members of SG teams three, five, and eight loitering outside the main laboratory tent surrounded by piles of gear and two FREDs piled with more equipment.
Someone wasn't taking any chances.
And they were early, very early.
He heard his name and vaguely saw an arm waving him over. Apparently, he'd been spotted.
Smiling hesitatingly, he picked up the pace a little. As he got closer Lieutenant John Peterson stepped away from the crowd, one of the members of SG-3.
"Doctor Jackson, did we wake you?" Peterson said, apologizing as he approached.
Daniel glanced around again, his eyes lingering on the people and the equipment that were littering their once pristine camp. "Kind of, but that's okay. What are you doing here? I thought the General was only sending three and eight in two hours from now."
"We had a briefing and once word got around Colonel Harper insisted that SG-5 accompany us. He stayed at the Gate along with Lieutenant Austin. It didn't take us long to get the extra gear together, so we decided not to wait."
"So you left."
"Yep. The General's sending the UAV through at first light so we should be able to set up the equipment to monitor the readings from here. I think Major Carter is hooking it up right now."
Daniel didn't know what to say, so he settled for something simple. "Do you know if there's coffee anywhere?"
Peterson smiled. "Inside the mess hall. I think Bosco started KP duty as soon as he walked into camp."
"You mean there's food?" Daniel asked, pausing only a few steps away from the Lieutenant.
"Of course. But I should warn you, Bosco makes some mean coffee. Puts hair on your chest."
"Trust me. It can't be worse than Jack's and I drink that on a regular basis. This'll be gourmet. And who thought that Starbucks had set up a store here."
Smiling for the first time in days, he sauntered into the mess tent, a feeling of elation settling over him.
This was going to work.
Jack was as good as rescued.
Finally, plan A was working.
XXX
It was quiet.
Very quiet.
And dark. He couldn't forget about the darkness.
At least this time he couldn't hear the gnawing of the rats or the clicking of the cockroaches' feet.
And he was pain-free, a blissful state of non-being.
It was better this way.
And soon he'd sleep.
XXX
Glancing up from the computer she'd finally finished tying into one of the workstations, Sam saw Daniel enter, fully kitted up and ready to go.
The UAV was to be launched from the SGC in fifteen minutes and the first of the search teams were ready to depart.
It had been a busy morning since Teal'c had gotten the call from Major Warren, stealing in to wake her as they neared the camp. He had seen the benefits even a small amount of sleep on humans because of his close association with them over the past several years. She was thankful of his thoughtfulness and had gotten right to work when they'd arrived.
An hour ago, the Major had approached her, asking what her orders were.
She'd been a little taken aback, figuring Lieutenant Colonel Harper would be calling the shots, but the Major explained that Hammond had made it clear that she was in charge of the rescue mission.
She was pleasantly surprised, but the weight of the decisions that had to be made settled heavily on her.
The first team would depart just prior to the UAV's release, heading directly for the Colonel's last known location. Teal'c and Daniel had insisted on going and she hadn't argued. Instead, she decided to send Lieutenants Peterson and Collins along with them.
Huddled in the corner, Sam watched Daniel weave his way through the lab. His steps were sure but she could see tenseness in his frame. For a moment she saw him as she had last night—slumped at the desk, sighs falling from his lips, his thoughts a loud distraction.
But as quickly as that memory came it was gone, replaced instead by the Daniel who would single-mindedly search out the nearest pot of strong coffee, who would go to the ends of the Earth to find a friend.
Right now was not the time for ruminations or doubts. Now was the time to focus on the living and the lost.
"Sam," he called, noticing for the first time that she was watching him cross the floor.
"You about ready to go?" she asked, straightening her back, rising to her feet, and stepping around to the front of the desk. She needed to move, to stretch.
"Yeah, we're about ready to move out. Teal'c's going to bring one of the FREDs packed full with some of the gear we might need. He thought it would be easier than carting it all the way."
Sam nodded. "Great. I figured he'd do that."
Daniel eyed her for a minute, his blue eyes measuring her, before continuing. "Are you sure you don't want to go with us?"
If she had her choice she would go, but someone needed to monitor the UAV and she was the one with the best qualifications. "I'm sure. I'll join the second team in a few hours once the MALP gets some readings. Make sure you keep in radio contact."
"We will. We're expecting you to lead us right to him you know."
"I'll do my best, Daniel," Sam said, the tone of her voice dropping.
"I know you will, but don't worry. We'll find him, alive and well. Knowing Jack, he just got turned around. He'll probably walk into the camp minutes after we leave."
"I wish that were the case, but I don't think that's going to happen."
Daniel sighed, his gaze shifting away from her face. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to wish it, right?"
"No, it doesn't," she said, pausing for several beats, her own thoughts and doubts threatening to overtake her. "Good luck. Bring him home."
XXX
It was interesting. He'd always thought that when the time finally came for him to go, it would be louder.
He'd always pictured his death on a field somewhere in the jungles of Asia or on the sand dunes of the Middle East. That had changed when he'd been assigned to the SGC.
Then it was to be an explosion on a planet far, far away. Another loud and painful way to die.
And then, with each passing day and mission, the possibilities of different types of deaths were opened to him.
Shot by a staff weapon-wielding Jaffa.
Two taps from a zat.
Accidental friendly fire in the heat of battle.
Blowing up a Goa'uld mothership with no way off.
Going up in a blaze of smoke and fire as the cargo ship was blown to kingdom come.
A knife in the gut.
Being eaten alive as replicator bugs swarmed over him.
The smell of sizzling flesh as a System Lord's ribbon device bored a hole in his head.
An attack of unfriendly natives that he did not survive.
Trampled by a horde of alien elephants.
He could go on, he knew, with more and more versions of his death, some more extraordinary than the next.
Yet all of the situations he envisioned were loud, unlike this time.
This time it was quiet, the slowing sound of his breathing his only companion.
It was more peaceful this way.
And it wasn't so bad.