Name: Better Ways To Self Destruct (aka 'Politics...Oy')
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Summary: Sam makes a discovery or two, Daniel and Teal'c come across some startling revelations and Jack is…well, bored.
Notes: Also not as long as first planned, though the pace of this one demands a snappier finish.
Feedback: A huge thanks goes to those who have reviewed to encourage me. Please keep letting me know what you think! I love hearing from you all.
Disclaimer: Stargate SG1 and the characters are the property of MGM. There is no infringement intended and no profit made.
-Part 7-
Poisonous Intent
Sam Carter was trying not to enjoy herself. Unfortunately, the prospect of exploring a technologically advanced settlement meant she wasn't trying very hard, and her excitement was clear on her face. Better still, everyone was too busy to notice she was wandering around without an escort.
So, despite reminding herself a number of times of the Colonel's situation, Sam took herself on a leisurely sight–seeing tour. She roamed the streets in the vague direction of the manufacturing quarter, where impressive-looking factories plunged half of the mountain into shadow.
The further away she got from Gale, the more confident she felt in exploring without a sanctioned guide. She began to stop every now and again to inspect various features on the walkways. There was something remarkably familiar about some of them. There were lampposts, similar in shape to those back home; public water fountains with the same motion sensors as those used on Earth; roads wide enough to incorporate two lanes of traffic – the only difference being that the only traffic here was pedestrian.
This lack of motorised transport was explained as Carter approached what could only be described as a public square. In the centre of it, important-looking people were coming and going – that is to say, appearing and disappearing – in front of two identical pedestal devices. She paused to watch as one man had a heated argument with the uniformed attendant. Apparently he was not eligible for travel.
Sam was desperate to get a closer look at the transportation devices, but decided against it. It might not be a good idea to advertise her presence here without her guide and there was still plenty more to be seen. She strode on, avoiding the square, following a side-street; and there she found something far more intriguing than transporter technology.
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Meanwhile, Jack O'Neill was getting very bored.
Cain had led him into a room and over to a bed very low to the ground. It felt like he was actually sitting on a cushioned floor, but he supposed it was comfortable enough. He had thanked Cain and the man took his leave.
Now he had nothing to do but lie there. The alarm had begun just as O'Neill had been on the verge of sleep and now his brain refused to rest.
There had been a brief moment of excitement as Carter had radioed in to report her suspicion that the other two members of SG-1 had activated the Gate, but chances were they had gone through by now. That meant that even if Carter found a way to extend the range on their radios, the Gate would probably be closed. They would just have to hope they had the capability to establish communications when a search party was sent back through.
He sighed. At least Carter had something to do – he was stuck here doing nothing until she returned, which could be hours. A city was a big place. If she was still in the company of Gale, though, he could only sympathise.
The door burst open very suddenly, accompanied by a loud demand: "Where is she?"
"Excuse me?" Jack exclaimed, affronted.
"That woman, Carter, where is she?"
He allowed himself to feel a certain inward satisfaction that Sam had given Gale the slip.
"What, you mean you left her unattended in a big city like this?" Jack asked, ignoring his persistent migraine in order to sit up. "Oh man, you'll never find her. Nope. She'll be searching out the nearest piece of scientific equipment to investigate. I bet she's dismantling something as we speak."
"She's supposed to be helping us, not sabotaging our technology! Garh! Spies!" She kicked something out of sheer frustration and it clunked dully.
"We're not spies," Jack asserted with an exasperated sigh. "Why does everyone always assume we're spies? Anyway, what do you expect? You lost her."
"I did not lose her!" Gale huffed.
"Sure ya did. You don't know where she is, do you?"
"No, but you do, don't you?" Gale accused.
"For crying out loud!" Jack muttered, rather loudly.
"What is going on?" It was Cain, presumably alerted by their raised voices. "Gale, what are you doing, harassing our guest?"
"He is no guest – he is a spy!"
"He's a guest of our government and if any of us seriously thought either Colonel O'Neill or Major Carter were spies, they would have been arrested long ago. Colonel, my most sincere apologies."
"Ah, no problem," Jack replied with a charismatic smile. "I guess I should've warned you: Major Carter is a scientist. Her curiosity gets the better of her sometimes. I'm sure she'll reappear before too long."
"You see, Gale?" Cain said. "Now go and do something useful and bring Colonel O'Neill some ointment." When she tried to protest, he added: "It has been approved by the Board! We have enough for this."
She stormed out of the room with an audible huffing. A smile twisted O'Neill's lips.
"I am afraid I have business to attend to," Cain told him; "please excuse me. Would it be agreeable for me to come back later, when Major Carter has returned? There are questions our government wish to ask about various things."
Jack made to nod but was quickly reminded of his the pain inside his skull when he moved. "Ow! Er, yeah, sure thing." He heard Cain leave and uttered another 'ow', pressing a palm against his forehead. It did nothing to ease the throbbing that had erupted in his temple.
"In pain, Colonel?" came Gale's voice as she returned. "Too bad."
He gave her a sarcastic smile, then asked bluntly: "So have you got the stuff or not?"
"Yeah, yeah," Gale muttered. "I'm afraid I can't wait around tending to your every need, though. Here." Something flew through the air and hit him squarely on the chest before falling into his lap. "Squeeze a bit out onto your finger and rub it over your eyelids. I'd tell you to read the label but, oh look, you can't."
Jack raised his eyebrows at her. That simply did not deserve a response. She turned on her heel and walked out of the room; he heard the door close behind her.
"Yeesh."
He located the tube of ointment she had thrown at him and ran his fingers over it. It was cool and smooth and inflexible – metal, maybe. With a frown, he wondered how he was supposed to squeeze anything out of a metal container. Running his fingers over it, he located what he thought must be the cap and unscrewed it. An unpleasant smell drifted out of the tube; he grimaced.
O'Neill briefly considered abandoning this foul-smelling solution to his sight problem, but his need to recover his vision overruled that idea. Applying pressure to the container – because that was the only way he understood tubes to work – he was surprised to find a globule of gel-like ointment squeezed itself out onto his finger. Cautiously, he touched it against one closed eyelid.
Instantly the spot was cooled and the heat building in his skull seemed to reduce a fraction. Gaining confidence, Jack applied the ointment to the rest of his eye; then, marvelling at its effect, he squeezed out another globule and used it to soothe his other eye.
He carefully screwed the cap back onto the tube and, after a brief moment pause to prepare himself, opened his eyes.
Nothing.
"Aw, heck."
He tossed the tube aside. He hadn't expected it to be a miracle cure in any case. He was too tired to grumble, other than to acknowledge how clearly useless the so-called medicine was. His migraine was still murderous and there was only one solution he could think of for that. Pulling his collar up around his neck, he resolved to sleep.
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Sarai watched with fascination as a bird-like probe flew out of the Stargate. It propelled itself in a swift, rising arc as Daniel spoke with an unseen man through his communication device.
"This is literally the border," he was saying. "There's a city due north, that belongs to the Dueteri, the natives we came across. Their territory stretches east so I can only suggest the UAV goes west."
"They will have been transported to a mountainous region," Sarai added.
"Sarai says Jack and Sam will be somewhere in the mountains."
"Thank you, Doctor Jackson," General Hammond replied. "We are inputting that information so it can be incorporated into the UAV's automated search pattern. Let's see if we can't get a better idea of Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter's whereabouts. Find out what you can from the natives. We will check back in five hours. Hammond out."
Instantly the Stargate disengaged. Sarai watched the event horizon disappear with interest.
"Twenty-eight years ago I could have made the ring work," she mused. "Not so now. I can barely remember its use. The children, they call it the Cosmic Circle, as if it is made of magic! If only such illusions could protect them from the truth we built with destruction." She looked up at the UAV, winging its way west. "I can only wonder if our enemies suffer as they do."
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck in his unease before taking a step or two towards her.
"You can't change what happened," he told Sarai gently. "The best thing your people can do is learn from it, move on and rebuild."
"Rebuild? No: it cannot be done."
"I know you're in a tough position at the moment," Daniel said, "trying to keep alive in those caves, but we can help."
Teal'c nodded in agreement. "Once our friends are found, we will be able send those who can assist your people in reconstructing your settlement."
"You do not understand," Sarai answered, shaking her head. "I thank you for your offer but it still cannot be done."
"Why not?" Daniel asked, frowning.
"The atmosphere has been tainted since this world was formed," she explained, indicating the weak and wavering sky. "Many of each generation died from a genetic illness that made them vulnerable to the toxins in the air. As time went on we were able to make progress towards overcoming the problem. We worked hard to clean the air in our towns and develop treatments against the disease. Through our efforts, fewer people became sick until only those who had both genes for the sickness fell ill. Once that mark was reached, the illness started to die out, as it was a recessive gene."
"But you haven't got those treatments anymore?" Daniel guessed. Sarai nodded.
"The air filters were destroyed at the beginning of the war," she sighed. "From that moment, thousands of people knew their death was guaranteed. They went down to the pits alone, or as couples, or as families, to sleep for eternity. That is how it was."
Daniel dropped his head. The purpose-built mass grave, the relaxed forms of the victims – it made sense, now. Dreadful, dire sense.
"Now we are trapped," Sarai continued. "Our only hope is to shelter in the caves. At first we had hoped the cloud would dissipate, yet it remains."
"What significance has the cloud in your people's situation?" enquired Teal'c.
"It triggers the sickness when it is overhead," she told them, "even in those who were previously impervious. All the bad elements of the atmosphere have been condensed into that cloud. We do not know how it came about, only that it formed after the war had ended. Perhaps it was the result of our city's destruction. Perhaps someone attempted to reconstruct our air filters and reversed the process instead. We are never to know."
She cast a dark glance towards the north. "We need to rebuild the air filters correctly in order for our number to grow; yet we need our number to grow in order to rebuild. There are too few of us. Too many who are sick."
Shaking her head in despair, Sarai turned her from them and began to make her slow progress home, to the caves.
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The commotion in the square beyond meant that Sam was momentarily distracted from her find. She hurried back towards the main road, where the same excitement and alarm flourished in the faces of scientists and officials. The man who had been arguing with the transporter attendant took the opportunity to tag onto a party of anxious men and women with electronic devices that looked like clipboards.
Sam glanced back towards the warehouse at the end of the alley. Presumably the Stargate had just activated again: she could either go and investigate that or resume her enquiry into the factory behind. She looked back towards it. A vicious message glared back at her, scrawled onto the wall in what must have been their equivalent of spray paint.
suck poison dueteri dogs
And above, the plaque that had caught her eye in the first place. Atmospheric Modification Plant, it proclaimed in bold, uncompromising letters. Certified by the Triyan Board of Medicine and the Council of International Warfare.
The Stargate could wait, Carter decided. There was something else going on here and she intended to find out exactly what it was.