"There," Janet said, securing the bandage in place on Teal'c's forearm. "I should have your results shortly."
"My symbiote will protect me," he said.
Janet chuckled. Even through the shield of her hazmat suit, she could see the determination and stubbornness in Teal'c's face. "Just because you have a better immune system than we do, doesn't make you invincible. Even if you'd like to think so."
That earned her a subdued smile. But it was a smile nonetheless.
"So, Doc. What's the story?"
Janet turned away from her makeshift lab to face Colonel O'Neill. Sam and Daniel were standing by his side.
"Captain Myers is running tests on your blood samples and those of some of the locals as we speak." She nodded to her assistant and handed her Teal'c's blood sample. "We'll know soon if there is anything foreign in your blood."
"Do you have any theories?" Sam asked.
Janet held her breath.
O'Neill arched his eyebrows at the hesitation. "Well?"
"Well, based on the descriptions that Doctor Jackson and Taras have given me, I'd say that whatever is affecting this population is close to bubonic plague."
Daniel blinked. "We have the plague?"
Janet sighed. "I don't know. People do not become symptomatic until hours or even days after infection." The distress didn't leave their faces. "But bubonic plague is treatable."
"So you can help us?" Taras appeared at the tent opening along with a young woman whom Janet knew as Raya, Taras' assistant.
O'Neill scowled. "Didn't we agree that you were to stay outside?"
"Actually, you agreed," Daniel told him.
"Whatever," Colonel O'Neill said. He turned back to Janet. "So, we just treat these people and go?" he asked, but there was no attempt to hide the doubt in his voice.
"I'm not going to sugarcoat this, Colonel," she said. "There are several known strands of the plague on Earth, some more virulent than others. We are in a foreign environment. There is no telling just how strong this particular strain could be."
Daniel frowned. "So…we just wait?"
She shook her head. "I'm just waiting—" She stopped and moved toward the end of the tent, welcoming Captain Myers inside. "Just the person I want to see. Do you have the results?"
Captain Myers nodded. "Yes, ma'am." She handed the chart to Janet.
Janet glanced over it quickly, but one section in particular seemed to leap out at her. Dammit, she thought. With a sigh, she turned to the anxious faces that awaited her.
"I just received the results back from the initial tests I performed," she told them. "I needed a blood sample from someone who was symptomatic so that I could compare your results. This is that sample."
"It's a form of the plague," Sam said simply.
"It appears so," Janet said. "But there is an unknown element that makes it different from any of the strands on Earth."
"Great," O'Neill mumbled. "We're trapped on a planet with alien plague."
"Can you treat it?" asked Daniel. When she said nothing, his face fell. "You can't treat it."
Taras and his assistant visibly shook.
"No, that's not true," she said, choosing her words deliberately while trying to keep her voice calm. She frowned as she skimmed through the results again. The anomaly was bothering her more than it should, since she had expected something different than an Earth strand anyway. She just couldn't figure out what was wrong. Filing away her concern for the moment, Janet put the chart down and returned her attention to SG-1. "The strain here is similar enough to the ones on Earth that I can administer streptomycin, chloramphenicol, or tetracycline – antibiotics – to those infected and anyone in contact with the infected as a preventative measure. Once I have more data available, I can adjust the medications."
"What do you suggest in the meantime?" O'Neill asked.
"I'd limit contact with the locals," she said, sending an apologetic look to Taras and Raya. She turned to SG-1. "I want you to head back to the quarantine tent and stay there until we have more information."
"Doc…"
"No buts, Colonel," Janet said. "Health and safety come first." While that was true, Janet also knew she needed more data on the disease, the population – anything that could help. "Taras," she said. "Do you keep records of the deceased? Medical files?"
Raya was the one to speak. "Yes, we do. Why do you ask?"
"I'm looking for anything that I can compare to my lab notes and the descriptions you've given me," she said. "I'd also suggest that you try to separate the symptomatic individuals from those who aren't showing signs of the sickness. If you can locate any people that have survived infection, they might have an immunity that I can use in my work."
"So, you do believe that you can find a cure?" Raya asked.
Janet paused, but then nodded. "I believe that with the proper tools, yes."
Taras turned to Raya. "Do it." As she exited the tent, he followed her, and hesitated as he opened the flap. "I will have our records sent to your teams."
"Thank you," she said, watching him go. Her gaze flickered to SG-1. "I could use some help going through the medical logs."
Sam nodded. "Sure."
"You got it," O'Neill said. "Anything else?"
"Colonel, I'm going to need some of my supplies and notes from my lab before I can diagnose any further."
"I'll go with you," Daniel said.
"Do you not pay attention? She said quarantine," O'Neill said before refocusing on Janet. "I'll have Major Griffith escort you to the Gate."
Janet nodded. "Yes, sir."
Janet watched them leave, catching Daniel's eye as he lingered, but he, too, soon joined the others outside the tent. She sighed and grabbed her notes. This wasn't exactly how she had planned on spending the afternoon. She could feel the tension in the air, sometimes as thick as the smog itself, as it pressed itself down on her friends and the local population. She couldn't say for sure just how long the people here had been suffering through this outbreak, but she could estimate they had been struggling for weeks, if not months.
However long the populous had been in anguish, they were desperate enough to abandon standard burial procedures in order to wear a mask of civility for SG-1's arrival.
It made her sick.
Janet gathered the last of her notes and exited the tent, finding Major Griffith approaching. He was nothing if not punctual.
"Are you ready?" he asked her.
She nodded, but took a moment to survey the area outside the tent. They had set up the preliminary facility close to the temple that housed the Gate, far from the clustered buildings and rotting corpses within the city. Nearby stood several groups of Baich, some praying in the open while others peacefully protested some of the city dwellers as they passed by. A few Baich eyed her and her team cautiously. Finally, she could see SG-1's retreating forms as they headed toward the quarantine tent they'd established.
She wished the best for them, hoping that when their results came back, they would be spared.
But she couldn't concentrate on them right now. She had a job to do.
"Okay, Major. Let's get to work."
Daniel ran his finger down the length of the page, mumbling under his breath as he skimmed through the text. Out of the various scripts, scrolls, and tomes he'd sifted through over the course of his life, legal documents were among the worst, quickly followed by medical documents.
But nothing could top medical legal documents.
He slipped his left index finger under his glasses and rubbed at his eye before scribbling down another statistic in his notepad. He'd spent the past hour translating the records Taras had gathered from within the city hall. He'd already been through several of the books, teasing out the important information to the best of his ability.
It was all the same. For months, the people of the city had been ravaged by this plague. Men, women, and children: no one was spared from the destructive nature of this bug. From what he could tell, the symptoms were fairly mild – fever, headache, chills, swelling, and Daniel's favorite: seizures. Though, he supposed by the time anyone started seizing it wouldn't really matter.
The records corroborated exactly with what Doctor Fraiser's assistants had told them. The disease was like the plague and its symptoms were nearly identical. Daniel didn't need to be a medical doctor to figure that out.
He just wished that Janet and her team would come back soon and clear them from quarantine. He didn't know what was taking so long. He just hoped it was good news.
He didn't want to think of the alternative.
With a sigh, he jotted down another detailed account of one of the victims before tearing out the page and handing it to Sam. She thanked him, took the page, and compared it with the other dozen she had spread out in front of her. Daniel turned back to the records and started to jot down more information. And so the cycle began again.
"Find anything?" Jack asked.
Daniel didn't bother to look up. "We're working on it."
"How hard can it be? Guy gets sick. Guy dies," Jack said.
"It's not that straightforward, sir," Sam said. Daniel tilted his head, high enough to see her, but low enough to keep the book in his line of sight. He could tell by the sound of her voice she was eager to explain and was just waiting for the right cue. They both knew that Jack understood what was going on. He was just bored. And when he was bored…
Through the corner of his eyes, Daniel saw Jack motion with his hands. Daniel went back to work.
"We're looking for patterns," Sam explained. "By comparing age, sex, and the various symptoms – all part of the demographics – we can obtain a better idea of the possible cause of the disease."
"Could it not be caused by the living standards of the Rusayev?" Teal'c asked.
Daniel paused, watching Teal'c as he hovered by the entrance of the quarantine facility. He'd planted himself there over forty minutes ago. Normally, Teal'c's watchful and protective nature wouldn't bother Daniel. In fact, he rather liked it. But today there was something about his cautious attitude that made Daniel's skin crawl.
Or maybe that was the plague.
"We're fairly sure that's the case," Sam finally said as she shifted the papers. "But there has to be a particular cause."
"Shoving people in their sewers can't help," Jack said. "I don't want to think where else they've been stuffing people."
Daniel's stomach lurched. He didn't really want to consider that either. Shaking his head, Daniel banished away evil thoughts of the food and water supply and dove back into the translations.
He was about to write down another statistic when he stopped, frowned, and drew the book closer. He had to have read that wrong.
"What?" Jack asked.
Daniel waved him away, crouching lower over the records. He checked them twice, but still he came up with the same result.
"Daniel, what is it?" Sam asked.
Quickly, Daniel scribbled down the information and tore out the page, handing it to Sam. "There," he said, gesturing at the paper.
Jack scowled. "There what?"
"It looks like the Baich have fewer cases than the rest of the Rusayev," Daniel said.
Teal'c frowned. "Why is this of concern?"
"Yeah," Jack said. "I thought they didn't really hang out in the city anyway."
"Not these Baich," Daniel said.
Jack stared at him. "There are some Baich who live in the city?"
"Apparently so," Teal'c said.
Daniel pointed to the page in Sam's hands. "Do you see it?"
Now, Sam frowned. "That can't be right."
The nervousness Daniel felt went up a notch.
"Carter," Jack said impatiently.
"According to the city's records, only one third of the Baich have contracted the disease," she said.
"Natural immunity?" Jack asked.
Daniel shrugged. "It's possible. But—"
Sam shot him an uneasy look. "With these figures…"
"Carter!" Jack's frowned deepened. "Teal'c's getting impatient."
Teal'c eyed Jack with a bemused face but said nothing.
Sam paused, her gaze shifting between the three of them. After taking a deep breath, she continued. "Sir, only one third of the Baich population has been infected or died from the disease."
Jack arched his eyebrows. "In comparison to…"
"Ninety-nine percent of the rest of the Rusayev."
"Whoa," Jack said. "That's one damn selective disease."
"Indeed," Teal'c said.
Daniel couldn't have said it better. He was sure that the immunity could be part of the reason for the difference, but such a gap between the two groups of people just didn't make sense. Then again, he didn't pretend to be a pathologist.
He glanced at Sam. She was staring at him. He knew they were thinking the same thing.
"Jack…"
Jack shook his head. "No. I know what you're thinking. And no."
"Colonel, there is obviously a cause for such a difference between the Baich and the Rusayev." She pointed to the pages in front of her. "If we could go talk to the Baich that haven't been infected…"
"Or even the Baich that live outside the city," Daniel added.
"No," Jack said firmly. "Need I remind you what quarantine means?"
"It is possible that I am immune to the diseases of this world," Teal'c said from beside the entrance. "I will go to the people and question them."
"And how are you going to do that?" Daniel asked. "They speak a derivative of a Slavic-based language. You'll need me to translate."
"Hey," Jack said, his face darkening. "I said no. Look, we'll wait for Fraiser to get back and take it from there." Jack glanced down at his watch.
Daniel watched the gesture and fought back the urge to stand. He found himself glancing down at his own watch.
Daniel felt his uneasiness rise when Jack motioned to Teal'c. "Hand me that radio?" he asked.
Teal'c tossed the radio to Jack who promptly started to transmit. They waited for a response. And waited. And waited.
Daniel shot a worried look to Sam.
"They're probably just busy," she offered. But he could tell by the sound of her voice she thought anything but that.
Finally, Jack got fed up with the radio and threw it on one of the empty tables in the quarantine area. He headed toward the exit, motioning for Teal'c to join him. He grabbed his P-90 as they prepared to leave. Daniel went to argue about the double standard when Myers appeared at the door.
"Captain?" Jack asked.
Captain Myers entered the quarantined area, noticeably breathless beneath her hazmat suit. "Colonel O'Neill." She took a deep breath. "Sir, Major Griffith…"
"Captain," Jack said sternly.
"He's dead." She gasped. "He's dead."
Daniel jumped to his feet. "What? What happened? What about Doctor Fraiser?"
Myers shook her head. "I don't know. We-we found her hazmat suit but…she…"
Daniel wasn't hearing this. He felt numb and thought he might buckle under his own weight, but Sam grabbed his arm to support him.
"What happened to Doctor Fraiser?" she asked.
Myers looked solemn. Finally, she said the words that Daniel wasn't ready to hear.
"She's gone."