Chapter 8

The sounds were dismally clear, each rasping breath, each pained gasp and groan, as the recording whirred on, courtesy of one of the small devices the SGC had itself provided to the Polistians as gifts during the negotiations. Jack stared resolutely at the briefing room table wishing he could be anywhere else other than hearing what he was hearing.

". . . . Marshal Lioss has granted my request that I be the one to interrogate you."

"Oh." Resigned, not surprised.

"You have information we require if we are to return the Polistian regime to its time of glory. That and the weapons your people will provide to save your life will guarantee our empire shall last a millennium and beyond. It shall dwarf all others that have come before it."

"Right." Almost a sigh.

"We can make your pain go away, or we can make it a thousand times worse."

Silence.

"You will give us the coordinates to every inhabited world you know, starting with the more primitive."

There was a rustling, a cough, then the sound of deliberate, long, slow, shaky breaths.

Jack looked toward Teal'c and gave a grim smile. They both recognized what Daniel was doing, what he was trying to do. Breathe, Daniel, breathe, Jack thought. That's right. Ignore the rat bastard. Teal'c gave a grave nod back, and they allowed themselves a moment of unspoken pride in their teammate. But then both their eyes shot back to the recorder in the middle of the table as there was the unmistakable sound of flesh being struck and a crack that Jack fervently hoped was not the sound of a breaking bone.

There was a loud cry, and then a sob and a groan, then nothing again but the sound of breathing, this time fast, hiccuping gasps as if the oxygen had been sucked from the room.

Son of a bitch, son of a bitch, son of a bitch, Jack found himself cursing inwardly, over and over.

Then Gahry's voice again: "Give us the symbols. Let's start with one planet. There must be a world you don't care about, a world in need of a new order. For just one, I can make the pain go away for as long as I wish. A minute, an hour. . . ."

"Don't know any." Barely a whisper.

"But you do. One of your colleagues on SG-9 told us. Gilbert? I believe the young man idolizes you, Dr. Jackson. He says you know more 'Gate addresses,' as you call them, than anyone else possibly in the universe. His words, not mine."

Jack looked across the table at Kovachek and saw the normally self-composed major staring stonily ahead, his jaw tightly clenched. Nillson, seated next to his team leader, closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.

"Not me. He must. . . ." A sharp intake of breath.

"He must what, Dr. Jackson?"

There was no answer, just a rapid gasping, then a ragged, strangled cry. An odd, rhythmic thumping came from the recorder accompanied by almost inhuman-sounding grunts, and Jack couldn't understand what was happening until his mind flashed on Carter as the spasms shook her body.

Still the first scream took him by surprise, a long piercing wail. Then there was another and another and another. Seconds ticked by, and then minutes, and still Daniel screamed, until Jack couldn't bear it anymore. He reached forward, grabbed the recorder and switched it off, then tossed the device back to the table. His hand was shaking, and he clenched his fist to stop it.

"Colonel," Hammond chastised. "You know we have to know what's on the recording."

Jack didn't respond at first as he tried to swallow the rage that threatened to choke him, and when he did answer, it was to a question that hadn't been asked.

"We have to go get him," he said.

"Colonel. . . ." Hammond started.

"No, sir, you don't understand. They're not going to give him back. They're going to torture him and kill him, and they're going to leave Carter to die."

"And the other people the Polistians are holding?" Hammond asked.

Teal'c answered in Jack's stead. "Lioss is no better than a Goa'uld. He will eventually kill the hostages regardless of our actions. He would not allow any challenge to his authority go unpunished."

"He's right, sir," Jack added. "Those people don't stand a chance if we don't go through the Gate."

Hammond was silent, considering what they'd said, but Jack could tell from the look in his eyes that he was defeated even before he'd begun to fight.

"I'm sorry, Colonel, Teal'c," the general finally said. "If I thought that it was likely that you would be able to rescue Dr. Jackson and retrieve the antidote, I would send you through now. But the Gate is heavily guarded, and we don't know the location of either Dr. Jackson or the antidote. There are just too many unknowns, and precipitous action could well speed the casualties we are trying to avoid."

Jack started to speak, but Hammond held up his hand.

"I may reconsider at a later point, and I fully expect plans for an assault should we persuade the Polistians to allow us to dial their Gate on the pretext of sending through the weapons they have requested, but I'm afraid for now our best and only course is to wait.. . . ."

"General. . . ." Jack tried again, but Hammond shook his head. "I'm sorry, Colonel, you have my decision. In the meantime, I'm afraid we need to listen to the rest of the recording in case there is some intelligence that bears on the situation. However, it isn't necessary for all of us to stay. Colonel, if you'd rather. . . ."

The offer hung in the air, but Jack was still trying to process the idea that they weren't going to burst through the Gate and rip Lioss, Gahry and the rest of them to pieces, that they weren't going to do anything to stop Daniel's torture, so it was a moment before he realized what his CO was saying. When he did, he shook his head sharply. As much as he wanted to flee, to not know what was on the recording, Jack couldn't. It would be like abandoning Daniel—again.

"No, sir. I'll stay."

"Very well. Major, if you would."

Kovachek, who hadn't said a word throughout the entire proceeding, nodded and reached for the recorder. He took a deep breath, steeled his expression again, and flicked it on.

bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

Daniel Jackson's screams still echoed in Teal'c's ears even now as he strode down the corridor at O'Neill's side. The recording hadn't lasted long after the interminable cries of pain had ended. There had been derisive laughter from Minister Gahry, more insults, interrogation . . . more beating. Little intelligence had been gained from listening to their friend's suffering. They knew now with certainty that the Polistians sought information on other worlds to conquer; they had confirmation that Gahry and the others took their orders from Lioss. Nothing more. Nothing but the knowledge Lioss had intended: that Daniel Jackson's agony was beyond what they had imagined.

When the recording had ended, Captain Nillson had blurted, "How can they do that? How can they hurt him when he's already. . . .?" He hadn't finished, realizing, perhaps, how naïve his question sounded to the experienced warriors who surrounded him, and no one had bothered to answer, to tell him what they all knew and what he would soon learn: There was no limit to the evil men would do.

Still, Teal'c felt a sort of envy for young man and his naiveté and momentarily wished he too could ask such a question, that he too could find Gahry's actions beyond his understanding. But such was not his fate. He would gladly kill Lioss and Gahry for torturing Daniel Jackson and Major Carter—and he fervently hoped he would be given the opportunity—but judge them he could not. For in the name of the false god Apophis he had tortured, maimed and killed many times over.

And he had done so for a cause he knew to be a lie.

Teal'c glanced at O'Neill as they walked. His warrior brother, seething with anger and fear for their comrades, seemed hardly aware of their surroundings. Was he contemplating the fate of his young teammates and plotting their rescue and his revenge, or was he too remembering a past he was less than proud of? O'Neill spoke rarely of his days in "black operations," but Teal'c knew his friend had done many things which troubled his soul, many things which, perhaps, he now regretted. Yet O'Neill, Teal'c reminded himself, had acted for a cause he believed in, the safety and security of his countrymen. And, Teal'c was certain, O'Neill had never enjoyed the harm he no doubt inflicted.

That characteristic he and O'Neill shared. Teal'c had despised his every brutal move as First Prime to the false god Apophis.

Yet Gahry had listened to Daniel Jackson's screams and laughed with pleasure.

Teal'c did not fool himself into thinking that his remorse for his deeds and his attempt to live an honorable life now made any difference to those he had tortured and killed; they still suffered terribly, they still died. And should he someday face just punishment for his past, as he had on the planet of the Cor-ai, he would again accept it as his due.

Yet though he knew it to be foolish, Teal'c deep in his heart clung to the differences between himself and those like Gahry, those without feeling, honor or just cause. To believe himself no better than. . . .

"Teal'c?"

O'Neill's concerned voice drew him from his thoughts, and Teal'c realized they were standing outside the infirmary.

"I am fine, O'Neill," Teal'c stated in response to the unasked question. The colonel stared at him, then nodded and turned back toward the doors, taking a moment to compose his features before he entered, obviously hoping to hide the depth of his anger and frustration from their ill teammate. Teal'c suspected that Major Carter would "see through" this attempt, even in the midst of her suffering, but he approved of the effort; they had no desire to upset her. They had come to discover if the Polistians had indeed sent through a sample of the antidote, and, if so, it could be used to produce more. If not, they hoped that Dr. Fraiser could confirm that ingesting more of the poison, as horrific a prospect as that was, would prolong Major Carter's life until another solution could be found.

Teal'c and O'Neill pushed through the doors together and started for Major Carter's bed. Dr. Fraiser was at her side speaking too quietly for them to hear, but Major Carter's response, through labored breathing, was clear:

"No. No, I . . . won't do that."

O'Neill stepped forward and addressed both the his teammate and the doctor. "Carter?" he said. "Doc? What's going on?"

"Colonel, I'm sorry, this is a private. . . ."

"It's . . . all right. . . . They can stay."

Dr. Fraiser hesitated as if she felt Major Carter's decision were not a wise one, and O'Neill interceded again. "Doc?"

The dedicated doctor looked to her patient, who nodded, then turned to the two of them. Teal'c noticed with concern that his young female teammate looked extremely pale, and that both her hands were trembling. Her eyes were bright with pain, her breathing was rough and uneven, far worse than when he had last talked to her. A tank of oxygen was at her side, and an oxygen mask was temporarily pulled down below her chin. Daniel Jackson's notes had been set aside by someone in a neat stack on the table at her side. Teal'c turned his attention to Dr. Fraiser, not optimistic that her news would be good.

"I've explained to Major Carter," she said, "that we still don't have an antidote, and that I'm not certain that we will find a solution in time to . . . to stop the poison's progression. The only other option we have so far is another dose of the poison. Major Carter has made it clear that she will not consider that option."

O'Neill drew in a sharp breath. "Carter?" he said.

Major Carter, who had closed her eyes as Dr. Fraiser spoke, opened them again a looked toward O'Neill, a man Teal'c knew she respected beyond all others.

"I'm . . . sorry, Sir . . . I won't."

"Your just giving up?" O'Neill asked sharply, and both Teal'c and Dr. Fraiser looked at him in surprise at his harsh tone.

"Colonel," Janet admonished. "I know I told you you could stay, but I think you'd better step away for a minute so I can talk to Sam—to Major Carter—privately."

O'Neill looked at his second in command, and she stared back at him, unblinking. He started to say something else, but then he simply nodded and stepped away to the other side of the infirmary. Teal'c followed and stood by his friend's side. O'Neill, his eyes still dark with frustration and anger, snapped, "Don't say it, Teal'c, all right?" and turned away. Teal'c, who'd had no intention of speaking, remained silent, and they both pretended not to listen to the murmuring voices: Dr. Fraiser's no-nonsense yet somehow still comforting tone and Major Carter's weak, rasping replies.

The conversation ceased, and the doctor walked slowly across the room to where they stood. She gave a brief shake of her head to the question in their eyes, then said, "I can't force her, Colonel."

"Can't you?"

"No, I can't. And even if I could, I wouldn't."

"Damn it, Doc," O'Neill said, his voice low but urgent. "She's dying."

Dr. Fraiser didn't respond for a moment as she seemed to struggle with her own emotions.

"Yes," she said finally. "She is."

Even though he already knew it to be the truth, Teal'c felt his heart skip a beat at the doctor's stark confirmation, and his symbiote twisted sickeningly.

"Yes," Dr. Fraiser repeated. "She is dying. The poison is dissipating at a much more rapid rate than we anticipated. Major Carter understands that. You know how hard she has fought, Colonel, Teal'c, but now she is choosing not to subject herself to even greater agony for the small chance that we will be able to find a solution before she is again faced with death. I wish her decision were different, but I can't fault her for making it."

"Nor can I," Teal'c said, speaking for the first time. Major Carter was one of the strongest people—Jaffa or human—that Teal'c had ever known. For her to prefer death to another dose of the poison, the pain must indeed be beyond bearing, perhaps even beyond his experience.

Jack snapped his head toward Teal'c with a look of disbelief on his face. "Well I can. I can fault her," he said, and before Dr. Fraiser could stop him, he strode back across the room to Major Carter's bed.

"Carter!" he snapped. Their gravely ill teammate, who had placed the mask back on her face and had her eyes closed tightly against the pain, turned her head in his direction and opened her eyes.

"You are not giving up, do you hear me? We will find a way, Carter, and you will give us the time to do it." She started to shake her head, but he didn't wait for her to finish. "No, you listen to me, Major. You give up on yourself, you are giving up on Daniel too. Is that what you want? Daniel needs you now, and you know he will need you when we get him back. You will not abandon him, Major, and that's a goddam order."

O'Neill ended his tirade and stood his ground. Dr. Fraiser started forward, but Teal'c reached out and touched her arm and shook his head minutely when she looked back at him. She pursed her lips in disapproval but stayed where she was. For a long moment there was not sound in the infirmary but for the beeping of the machinery and the rasp of Major Carter's breathing, louder now against the silence. She stared up at the colonel, not saying a word, and Teal'c wondered what silent communication might be passing between them. Finally, not taking her eyes off O'Neill, Major Carter pulled down the mask and said hoarsely, "Janet?"

Dr. Fraiser came over to her side and leaned over. Teal'c took a step forward to hear.

"Yes, Sam," she asked, gently.

"Promise me. Prom . . . ise you'll . . . wait until . . . the . . . last possible . . . the last minute."

"Are you saying that you consent to another dose of the poison, Sam—if we wait as long as possible?"

Major Carter bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes, then opened them again and looked at Janet. "Yes,"

she said.

"You know Colonel O'Neill can't order you to do this, Sam."

Major Carter turned her eyes back to O'Neill.

"I know," she said.

O'Neill looked steadily back at her, and neither said another word. Dr. Fraiser paused a moment longer, then nodded decisively. "All right, Sam. We'll continue to monitor your condition, and I'll try to give you as much warning as possible. In the meantime," she said, placing the mask back on her patient's face, "please keep the mask on, all right?"

She waited for her patient to nod, then left to give instructions to the nurses on duty. Teal'c watched as O'Neill continued to hold Major Carter's gaze until she jerked suddenly and gave a small cry, then turned away and closed her eyes. O'Neill winced then and his face crumpled for the slightest instant in a grimace of remorse and grief. He reached behind him for a chair and pulled it forward and sat down slowly, then reached out as if to put his hand on Major Carter's arm, but then he drew it back and lowered it to the edge of the bed.

Teal'c too pulled up a chair and sat on the other side of the bed. He hesitated briefly, then took Major Carter's hand gently in his, doing what O'Neill apparently felt he had forfeited the right to do. O'Neill gave him a small smile of gratitude and Teal'c nodded in understanding. Soon they would have to leave to formulate an assault plan on Polistia should the moment arise, but for now they would wait here at their teammate's side.