Chapter 10

When O'Neill woke again, he sat up trying to clear his mind of the drug induced fuzziness. It seemed to him it was close to dawn, he needed desperately to get to the head and he was too dizzy to risk standing up without Carter's help. Oh yes and one more thing he didn't have a stitch on, well a bandage or two, maybe a dozen but no clothes. Sam woke to find him sitting on the side of the bed with the corner of the sheet in his lap, looking like he was trying to decide whether or not to risk standing.

"Carter, a hand"

Before he got the words out she was sitting at his right side. Knotting one of the towels, from the mess of them in the bed, around his waist, he then placed his arm around her shoulder and they stood together. He just needed to get his balance and get steady on his feet. His right knee was swollen and resented any weight being put on it. He tried not to lean on her and still she nearly staggered under his weight.

Sam went to slide her arm around his waist but was afraid to hold on in case she grabbed the nearly continuous bruises that covered his left side. After three paces he had to stop and regroup he strength.

He staggered into the bathroom then under his own steam and after relieving himself and splashing some water on his hands and face turned for the return trip. Sam was right there to assist him but he was steadier on his feet and limped back to the bed supported by will power and the wall. He was rung out from not more than seven paces and feared Carter would look upon him as a useless has been. It was how he felt.

"They have hot water; and a shower. It's a cave for cryin' out loud!"

"Yeah, they use geothermal…"

"Damn that would feel good."

"Better wait for till you are steadier on your feet."

"You wouldn't want to be rescuing me from the soapy depths…" He stopped when he realized he was embarrassing her.
"Sorry. I think I'll just…ah… rest."

Actually Carter had been curious about this seemingly primitive planet and had asked a few questions of everyone she had come in contact with. At first glance there was no advanced technology in evidence here. The natives used what nature had given them. They made use of gravity and cisterns for water supply and all plumbing needs; they made use of geothermal heat for hot water and to keep winter at bay. Although their clothing and artifact of daily life seemed primitive, these people were comfortable and thriving when not interfered with by the more 'advanced' races.

A black furred streak of lightening flew into the room and landed on O'Neill. His groans and curses ceased when he saw the young boy.

"That your overgrown rat?" O'Neill asked rather gruffly frightening the boy.

The boy put the bowl of porridge, hot tea and fresh baked bread on the table and beat a hasty retreat whistling and calling for his dog. The dog was busy licking O'Neill and trying to inspect his molars much to O'Neill's consternation and Carter's amusement.

Breakfast and the walk to the bathroom proved to be exhausting and Jack fell asleep with the pup licking out the porridge bowl.

He reached down to pet the small creature he often found nestling by his leg. It usually followed the boy who brought them meals but it had taken a particular liking to O'Neill. Jack thought it looked like a cross between a weasel and a dachshund. The boy called it Piet which Jack thought apt – it was short, squat and always squeezing itself between him and Carter. But although he reached for the pup he met her hand there and held it. He held her hand and forced himself to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind, the question so much easier to address since he was not looking directly at her.

"Why …"

"They are very short on space. We are lucky to have this room to ourselves."

That answered one question, why she was lying beside him, but not the one he was trying to ask; so he tried again.

"Why did you decide to…?"

"I had no choice."

"What?"

"They found us. They helped me bring you here."

"No, that's not what I meant. Why did you say yes?"

"What?"

At this point the pup did make his appearance and dove into the bed, right between them covering O'Neill's face with sloppy kisses.

"Piet, Piet get down."

The pup just wagged its tail furiously and ignored his young owner.

"Are you the owner of this monster?" O'Neill asked while trying to avoid having his ears deep cleaned.

"I am Gunnar, son of Lothar." The boy said quite proudly, trying his best not to be intimidated by the stranger in the bed.

"Of the hill people?"

As she fought the urge to snicker, Sam didn't know whether to smack O'Neill or just her own forehead.

"No sir, I am from the Great Fjord of Strom." The confused boy said. "I am trying to train Piet but he is young and he seems to like you."

"There is no accounting for taste." Carter muttered under her breathe.

O'Neill glared at her and set the pup to licking her neck. She shrieked in laughter and jumped out of the bed. Sam took the food from the boy, Gunnar, and brought it to O'Neill who was sitting up in bed.

"You know, if I had some clothes I could sit at the table."

"My mother has asked me to bring you a shirt and pants of my uncle when I return with your supper. My uncle is the tallest man I have ever seen. I shall be as tall as him some day."

"I'd appreciate that but do you know where my uniform… my clothes are?"

"My mother is mending them. She said they were a…she wasn't happy, sir."

"You tell her that her kindness is appreciated but I'd like to have them back. In the mean time I guess most anything will do."

The boy whistled for his pet and although Piet looked up and wagged his tail, he was not leaving as he considered the prospect of sharing O'Neill's lunch.