For Every Action
Children ran through gutters reeking of waste, oblivious to the fact life could be so much better. That it was so much better mere steps away.
No, not oblivious, Jack O’Neill thought upon closer review. The kids ran but what they were doing could not be considered playing. There were no smiles or laughter. Their bellies were distended and grotesque, their arms and legs like sticks. There was nothing but squalor as far as the eye could see, grime on every corner, and the expressions on people’s faces spoke of relentless destitution. He had traveled the Earth over, had seen much in his day. But this… this was unexpected and so shocking. There had been no gradual change of neighborhood, just a rapid switch from affluent to poor.
“Oh, my god,” Carter whispered. “Are we on the same planet?”
“It would seem we are, Captain Carter,” Teal’c said.
The posh neighborhood SG-1 had only just left was so disparate from the images that now befell them Jack felt slightly dizzy, like he had been spun too quickly in a revolving door. Instead of homes made of brick, stucco or the highest grains of wood, these people lived in rusted tin sheds, some with no doors, and most with holes in the roofs. The sewage-lined streets spoke of no plumbing. It was easy to assume other conveniences weren’t available either. No electricity, no running water, nothing to make life even a little more bearable. There was no industry here, none of the technology that abounded in the city. Beside him, Daniel choked what he thought might be an attempted response to Carter’s question. It could just as easily have been revulsion.
Jack had an inexplicable feeling SG-1 weren’t meant to have seen this part of Wiutehian society, an inkling that set his nerves on edge. He had maintained a definite suspicion about their potential allies since they had set foot on the planet, and now it solidified into full-blown comprehension; the polish the political attach had demonstrated was just that—a shiny coating to pretty up ugliness beneath. The city they had been given a grandiose tour of yesterday was a front, a deception. He didn’t want to be right about that. The SGC needed him to be wrong, because they were sitting on a planet that could keep both science and military happy for a long time.
“God,” Daniel said, finally managing to speak. He reached up and unclipped one side of his backpack. “This is…”
“Whatcha doin’?” Jack asked as Daniel unclipped the other side of his pack and spun around to try and catch it before it thudded to the ground.
“Obviously we’re not equipped to do much, but we have our MREs. Blankets. Tablets to purify the water. That sort of thing.”
Okay, not a bad thought. Jack glanced around. Either they were either being ignored or they hadn’t been seen yet. He watched as Carter followed Daniel’s lead, emptying her pack of relief paraphernalia, and then so did Teal’c. Jack sighed. Daniel was right, but every ounce of his being was screaming at him to back away, and back away quickly.
“Yeah, good idea. But let’s make it fast.”
“Jack, we can’t just leave these people like this,” Daniel protested, just as Jack knew he would. And Jack agreed on one level, but on another he could only predict disaster. “Look at them. It … this…”
“I just have this feeling we’re not supposed to be here.” Even as he said it, Jack knew if those words had come out of anyone else’s mouth, he would have rolled his eyes and mocked them. He unfastened his backpack and started rooting through it. “The muckety-mucks aren’t going to let us just waltz in here and fix a problem they’re very likely aware of. Hell, for all we know, they made this.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
Jack didn’t know what he meant, that was the problem. He shrugged his shoulders, tossing his last MRE on the pile that had amassed. It was a pitiful example of aid.
“It’s not the rich we should be thinking about right now. It’s these…”
Daniel threw an arm out, casting it over the dilapidated collection of homes. Carter was behind him, clipping his backpack on. Both of them stared at him, a double dose of entreating eyes.
“I know that,” Jack said. “I can see them. We can’t do much of anything right now, not just the four of us. And it might be in these people’s best interest if we don’t mention our accidental journey here until we know more.”
Never mind that it could also be in SG-1′s best interest, Jack thought but didn’t verbalize. His couldn’t be the only spidey sense going off. He glanced at Teal’c and saw pretty much nothing in his expression. Someday he was going to get a line on the Jaffa. He switched his attention to Carter, usually a much better gauge. She looked peaked, overwhelmed by the misery surrounding them and therefore pretty much useless for any type of valid assessment. Jack took a few steps backward, toward where they came from. He needed to pull his team away from this horror before it sucked in at least the human members. It seemed to be doing just that, like there was some invisible force that could affect them in a very real way.
“Sir.”
“Jack.”
“Look, I’m not proposing we abandon these folks. We’ll information gather.” Jack cut off a dual protest with a swipe of his hand. “I want to make sure I understand the situation before we take any type of major action.”
“We could information gather here too, Jack.”
“Yeah, we could, but look around. It speaks for itself. So if someone would be so kind as to hook my pack back up, we need to get going. Now.”
Daniel glared at him while Teal’c walked over to lend him the requested hand. Once his pack was secure, Jack turned around, more than ready to be on his way. He almost plowed right over a small child who had insinuated him … her … itself directly into his path. Guess SG-1 had been noticed after all.
“Jeez.”
Jack sidestepped, flailing his arms slightly until he regained proper balance. The child blinked up at him, eyes enormous and sad. A bug crawled across its shoulder, and dirt smudged its face. God. He was not impervious to the depressing influence here himself. His stomach turned. He reminded himself that even on Earth such conditions existed. This place could easily be an impoverished shantytown in numerous Third World countries. But, no, this was different. This was literally right next door to wealth and power. His mental justifications did not make him feel any better. The child took a step toward him. Jack took a step away. It was instinctive, and the exact opposite of his usual reaction with kids. He felt like an asshole. He waved his hands out in front of him, as if to ward off the child.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Jack said.
“Leumas, emoc ereh! Teg yawamorf esoht elpoep,” a man shouted, hobbling toward them. Dragging his crooked legs was a more accurate description, as the man relied on crutches for forward movement. “Uoy wonktahw sneppah nehw yeht eraereh.”
Clearly, the universal translator thingamabob wasn’t installed here, but Jack didn’t need to understand the words to know panic. The man kept shouting unintelligibly. His cries drew the attention of more of the unfortunate citizens of the shantytown. Instead of rushing forward, which for some reason Jack expected they might do, adults grabbed listless children and shuttled them indoors. Right. What was he thinking, assuming the people might imagine they were here to help? He should know better by now.
“It’s like they’re afraid,” Carter said, then spoke more loudly, to the people rather than the rest of SG-1, “You don’t have to be frightened.”
“I believe your efforts are futile, Captain Carter,” Teal’c said.
Teal’c was right. The people couldn’t understand SG-1 any more than SG-1 could understand them. Jack glanced at Daniel to see if he was catching any of the frantic man’s outcries. Daniel shook his head back and forth, a horrified expression on his face but absolutely no indication he was translating. Jack thought maybe Daniel was starting to agree with him about getting out of here, except then Daniel took a step forward where he had hedged backward. The native apparently assumed even more ill intent, somehow managing to grasp Daniel’s arms tightly for a moment before shoving him. The guy barely had any strength, but Daniel took two faltering steps to regain his balance.
“Truhem llauoy tnaw, tub evaelym nos enola.” The man pushed Daniel one more time, probably to emphasize whatever his bizarre words were. He nearly toppled over himself.
“Hey,” Jack said, moving closer. Nobody shoved his team members around, not even an impoverished cripple. Daniel now wore a strange, almost pained expression but he seemed unharmed. “Hands off.”
“Ohwserac tuoba mih. Leumas, ogkcab edisni,” the man said to the little boy. He glared at each of SG-1 in turn. “Uoy lliw tonmrah mih ynaregnol.”
And then it was over. The man and boy left SG-1′s immediate vicinity without any more shouting or shoving. Jack surveyed the tin houses one more time. What life there was before this little incident was quelled into nothingness. The neighborhood was dire before. Now it was damn spooky.
“I don’t think we’ll get any information out of these people.”
“No,” Daniel said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’d say not.”
“Convinced we should blow this Popsicle stand now?”
Daniel jutted out an arm, ushering Jack onward. Twenty short steps later they were out of the ghetto and back into cookie-cutter suburbia. He wasn’t a big believer in environment having an impact on mood, but he swore he felt better just for being in a much more appealing place. The smell of sewer lingered, however, clinging to his clothes and hair.
“I wonder why the Wiutehians didn’t tell us about that part of town,” Carter said. “It’s not like we wouldn’t understand impoverishment. It happens everywhere.”
“I have not seen such a place on Earth.”
“That’s only because we tend to hide it a bit further away from us, Teal’c,” Daniel said. “Division of classes is an understandable occurrence, actually. I’m sure there are different classes of Jaffa in your society. I’d guess having a figurehead like Apophis—or any of the Goa’uld for that matter—would also make religion a primary reason for societal tiers.”
“Indeed.”
Daniel looked a little thrown, like he had expected Teal’c to issue a wordy response. Damn, Jack was going to have to take lessons from Teal’c on how to best get Daniel to shut up with one simple word. Jack was well aware Daniel had a point, but just couldn’t shake the feeling there was something very different about this situation.
“I’m thinking it’s more like the Touched and Untouched,” Jack said.
“Yes, Jack, you’re right. It’s like ancient India,” Daniel said absently.
“Ancient India?” Teal’c said.
Jack could just tell a brain numbing explanation was coming. So much for Teal’c stunning Daniel into silence.
“On Earth, in India specifically, there was a very defined social system,” Daniel explained for Teal’c's benefit. “At the bottom of the scale was a group called the Untouchables. These were people who worked jobs that were viewed as embarrassing and low-level. Unclean occupations, if you will. The Untouchables essentially had no rights in society.”
Jack hadn’t seen any industry at all back there. He turned around to glance back at the ghetto but he couldn’t see it anymore. Huh. It didn’t seem to him those folks performed any work at all, at least not there. And if not there, where? Sure as hell not in the pristine city they now walked through.
“Treatment of Untouchables was different by region. In some regions the Untouchables were seen merely as tainted people and their dwellings were at a distance from the rest of the settlements. The Untouchables were not allowed to touch people from those ‘clean’ settlements, let alone cross the tracks.”
“Cross the…”
“Never mind, Teal’c. It’s an expression,” Jack said, glaring at Daniel.
“I see.”
“That sounds similar to what we have here, Daniel,” Carter said.
It also sounded similar to his own guess of Touched/Untouched, but he didn’t mention that, afraid if he did so Daniel would go off on another tangent. He’d just let Daniel think he had referenced Earth culture, not the Land of Light.
“I hope so.”
“You hope so? Why?”
“Because in other regions of ancient India, the division wasn’t quite so benign. If, because of any reason, there was a contact between an Untouchable and a member of a higher caste, person of higher caste became defiled and had to be purified. In some cases, an Untouchable could have been beaten or murdered for daring to touch someone of a different caste.”
“So we don’t tell anyone you got touched, Daniel. From the looks of him, that guy doesn’t need any more grief and, well, purification could mean so many diverse and wonderful things,” Jack said.
“Yeah.”
They fell into silence as they walked back toward the center of town. Jack started to regret that they had even let themselves get off the beaten trail. Life was so much easier in ignorance. Both Daniel and Carter would probably kill him for thinking that, but it was true. Without knowing about the ghetto, a trade agreement could have easily been hashed out. Now the situation was much stickier. Morally complicated. Okay, now he was just disgusting himself. Maybe he really was a closet bastard. Daniel stumbled, apparently over his own feet because the walkways here were smooth, even, and perfect. Putting out a hand, Jack barely prevented Daniel from taking a total header.
“Careful there,” he said.
“I think I’m still a little distracted. Whatever that guy was upset about, he was very intense.”
“He made me nervous, too.” Carter put a hand on Daniel’s arm. “I think he just thought you were going to hurt the boy, though.”
“That’s what worries me. They probably thought we were Wiutehians, and if their first reaction is to hide … well, what does that remind you of?”
“It reminds me of many alien races’ attempts to avoid subjugation by Apophis,” Teal’c said.
They got quiet again, and Jack knew his team felt the same way he did—that it was not a very happy comparison. Their shiny new trade partners were potentially Goa’uld-like. The city center was just ahead. Hopefully no one noticed their absence, and even if they did it was time to zip the lips with all the suppression-of-the-masses talk. It wouldn’t be good for interplanetary relations to have read the situation all wrong. Provided the unease he and his team felt was way off base, which Jack seriously doubted, things could still carry on smoothly. The slum might be very easily explained, though he did want to know how they camouflaged it so well.
“Look sharp, people. I shouldn’t have to say this, but I don’t want any kind of confrontation.”
“Yes, sir.”
“To alarm the Wiutehians would indeed be an inappropriate course of action.”
Good, he knew they’d agree with…
“Daniel? We won’t be raising this issue until we know more.” Daniel was always the question mark, and Jack still needed concrete assurance his orders were clearly understood. Looking at Daniel, Jack didn’t think he was going to wage a protest. No, the guy just looked distracted. “Daniel, you with me?”
“What?” Daniel blinked.
Jack frowned.
Daniel blinked again.
“Jack, I don’t think we should let them know we’re suspicious.”
Jack refrained—just barely—from cuffing Daniel upside the head. He looked over at Carter, catching her returning her attention back to where the ghetto should be. They were all off their games, he realized, and it just added to his apprehension. As much as his impulse was to provide some aid to the forlorn members of this society, he also wanted to walk straight through the ‘gate and not look back.
“Ah, there you are,” Bajiar called, trotting down the steps of the large city hall building.
Now that was a guy Jack had pegged as slick from the moment they had met. The way Daniel described Bajiar’s position he was the mayor of this burgh. Or magistrate. Or something. He hadn’t really paid much attention, he admitted. Didn’t matter so much. It was the slickness that mattered, and slickness was never something he really liked to see in a group’s negotiator. Besides religious fanaticism, slickness was right at the top of the list of unfavorable attributes. The guy could be a used car salesman, sans a tacky suit.
“I wondered where you disappeared to.”
He plastered a grin on his face, which Bajiar seemed to mirror. Jack found that very disconcerting. He wasn’t sure how to play the situation. Lying outright would probably only end up biting them in the ass.
“We were stretching our legs.”
“I see.” Bajiar’s smile was plaster, molded to fit one particular shape.
Jack was only starting to realize how difficult it was to read the alien. He was like Teal’c, only on the opposite end of the emotional spectrum. And short, very pale, unmuscular, verbose…
“I expected you back over twenty minutes ago. Captain Carter, you’ll be happy to know I’ve arranged several tours of our science labs just for you,” Bajiar said.
Carter looked at him for direction. Jack nodded. That was as good a place as any to ask questions. He just hoped they weren’t all expected to tag along.
“That sounds great,” Carter said.
Bajiar started leading them up the steps. Jack noticed that several large fellows situated themselves directly behind and around SG-1. Escorts. He scowled and toyed with his MP-5. The Wiutehians had been non-violent thus far, but then SG-1 hadn’t done anything to piss them off.
“Where exactly did you go on your walk?” Bajiar said.
The question was harmless, but it was asked carefully. There was definitely a right and a wrong answer, and Jack suspected Bajiar and the goons surrounding them already knew where they had been. He also suspected they weren’t too happy about it.
“We went sightseeing,” Jack said. “Carter here is thinking of building her own house and she wanted to see if she get some ideas from your architecture.”
“And did you, Captain Carter?”
Carter shot him an annoyed look, and then her eyes widened. Jack followed her gaze, only to see Daniel falling up the stairs. This time he wasn’t able to get a hold on Daniel before impact. He winced at the thump. That had to hurt and what was up with Daniel anyway? His teammate picked himself up, glasses askew and cheeks reddened with embarrassment.
“I seem to have two left feet today,” Daniel said.
Understatement.
“You are well, though?” Bajiar asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
“I’m fine.”
Truthfully, now that he thought about it, Jack could kiss Daniel for the unwitting distraction he just provided. Maybe Bajiar’s question to Carter would get lost in the shuffle, and his 2IC wouldn’t need to dig him out the hole his flippancy had started.
“Good. Now, Captain Carter, how did you find our architecture?”
Maybe not. Carter resumed glaring at him, and so Jack cleared his throat.
Bajiar focused on him once more.
“Okay, we’ll be honest with you. We weren’t looking at architecture. We really were just stretching our legs, though. Imagine our surprise to end up in the slums.”
“I smell it on you.” Bajiar sniffed. “I smelled it before you were within twenty feet of me.”
“You have a great nose then.”
“You must wonder why we keep our poor so effectively hidden.”
“Yes, a little,” Daniel said. “Are you ashamed of them?”
Bajiar looked at him, nostrils flaring. He leaned close to Daniel.
Jack bristled at the manner in which Bajiar sized up Daniel, like he was a cheap, drunk woman at a bar, an easy mark. And that analogy was incorrect, because Bajiar didn’t look interested in the guy so much as disdainful toward him.
“Not ashamed. We don’t see reason to let that particular … environment despoil ours. As you witnessed yourselves, we do not put up a tangible barrier, for if we did you would never have happened upon it.”
“Barriers don’t have to be tangible to be solid,” Daniel said. “Are you doing anything to help them?”
Bajiar’s left eye twitched. Jack saw their escorts moving closer as Bajiar futzed around to open the big door. The interior of the building was dark, and though they had already been inside, Jack was suddenly apprehensive about going back in. It was Daniel’s image coming to life, he thought, because nothing Bajiar said or did was a direct threat but it still felt very real. Intangible solidity.
“We provide aid where we can.”
Someone snorted. Judging by the trajectory and strength of the resulting wind gust, Jack would put money on that someone being Teal’c. He raised his eyebrows and looked at Teal’c inquisitively. He supposed, though, Teal’c would know better than any of them what repression was and just what role oppressors had in it. The guy had filled both sets of shoes at the same time.
“Aid? Can you give us specifics?” Daniel asked.
So much for no confrontation. Jack wasn’t particularly annoyed with Daniel for disregarding his earlier directive, however. He was actually heartened by it. At least Daniel seemed more with it now. No matter what the question, he figured Bajiar had a sidestep at the ready; the alien was apparently a master at vague answers.
“I think perhaps it is time for you to go.”
Well, that was out of the blue.
“Isn’t that overreacting a bit?” Jack said.
Clearly Bajiar didn’t think so, and if Bajiar didn’t think so then the whole of the Wiutehian leaders wouldn’t think so. The goons corralled SG-1 closer to the doorway. Jack noticed just how massive they were.
“We cannot negotiate with people who are untruthful, Colonel O’Neill. You ventured out where you were not invited and then you lied about it.”
“Oh, come on. This is not about us walking around. It’s about finding those poor people.”
“You claim to value truth, and yet you seem unable to be truthful yourselves,” Daniel said. “We haven’t asked for anything but reasonable explanations and information.”
The conversation was over. A meaty hand clutched at the nape of his neck. Jack squirmed out of it easily enough, but found that Carter and Daniel weren’t quite as able. Teal’c glowered at the henchmen, as if daring them to attempt touching him. None did.
“We would have preferred for you to leave voluntarily.”
This was all ridiculous. Like Daniel said, Jack didn’t understand what could be so terrible about SG-1 wanting to have a little more information. It seemed the Wiutehians were a very black and white people. There was truth and there were lies, there was wealth and there was poverty, and never the twain should meet. Hammond would feel the heat on this one and he regretted that, but at this point it wasn’t up to him. He hated the loss of control more than anything.
“We still can. Get your hands off them. Now.” Jack skirted around until his back was against the wall and fingered his MP-5. He didn’t want violence. Bajiar was unperturbed at having a weapon pointed at him, which made Jack even more nervous. The thugs didn’t move. “Get your hands off them, please.”
Carter continued to buck against the big hands… and now arms… holding her. She was bodily lifted from the ground and carried through the doorway.
Teal’c took a step forward, and the thugs that couldn’t hold him finally drew weapons, out of thin air.
It made sense that if they could hide an entire segment of the population from the naked eye they could also hide small armament, Jack thought.
“Hey, knock it off. We’re going.”
With guns literally pointed at his and Teal’c's heads and the other two members of his team being manhandled, Jack had no choice but to hold his hands up and involuntarily go where told. He did manage to glare at the crowd of gawkers that lined the edges of the hall’s grand, marble-laden atrium housing the Stargate. His primary concern was that they’d be tossed through the ‘gate before they could input the iris code. Of course, he should have realized Bajiar would dial the coordinates himself and that Earth was not the destination. Carter was tossed through to the unknown location, then Daniel was held halfway into the wormhole while he and Teal’c moved toward the event horizon. Daniel, bless him, was still fighting for all he was worth just to give his captor a rough time.
“It didn’t need to come to this,” Jack said.
Jack couldn’t actually figure out why it had. Teal’c strode into the activated Stargate, and for that Jack was glad. He wasn’t about to leave without Daniel, but was a bit concerned about Carter. Bajiar didn’t say anything. Jack sighed.
“Okay, let him go.”
And let Daniel go they did, with an overzealous shove. Jack followed, no longer the slightest bit regretful for severing ties. If he never saw the Wiutehians again it would be too soon.
As far as planets went, the one Bajiar dumped them on wasn’t bad. She had expected someplace more like a prison. Sam picked herself up from the ground and started brushing sand off her backside. She was going to be sore in a couple hours, but that was nothing compared to her bruised pride. She never should have been overpowered like that. She glanced up at dual suns. She still had one hand on her ass when she heard the sucking sound of a wormhole discharging a person. She turned around in time to see Teal’c step gracefully through the Stargate.
“Are you well, Captain Carter?”
“Oh, I’m fine.” Sam dropped her hand quickly and righted her hat. “I couldn’t possibly be better.”
She turned slowly. They had gone from an urban paradise to a tropical one. Lush flora edged along a white sand beach and green water lapped on the shore. The air smelled of wet, hot salt as the breeze rolled from the sea, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Either Bajiar didn’t know where he had sent them or he wasn’t that bad of a bad guy after all. She doubted the last was possible, so she instantly became wary of her surroundings. They might not be as beautiful as they seemed. She fingered her weapon, glad hadn’t been disarmed. Thank goodness for small favors.
“Are the colonel and Dan…?”
Daniel flew through the ‘gate in much the same manner she had, arms and legs flailing, before she could finish her question. He landed on the ground with an ‘oof’ and a couple of rolls.
Guess that answered part of her question. Sam moved toward her downed teammate.
“Daniel, you okay?”
“Just great,” Daniel said, voice muffled by sand. He started coughing and flipped over onto his back. It looked really uncomfortable, what with his backpack underneath him. He let his head hang upside down. “Where are we?”
Like they could answer that question.
“Sons of bitches,” the colonel said as he abruptly stalked through the wormhole, immediately focusing on Daniel, then switching to her. “You all right, Daniel? Carter?”
“Fine,” they both told him at once.
Daniel sat up with his legs stretched out in front of him like a little kid. He had an expression on his face that Sam was certain was similar to the one she had earlier—knowledge of aches and pains to come. She found herself wincing again. The ‘gate shut down, leaving them in relative silence. A bird screeched from high above them, in the tree canopy.
“Great. Let’s go home and face the music.”
Good idea … only Sam realized that in her quick perusal of their immediate surroundings she hadn’t seen a DHD. Oh, fabulous. She saw belatedly that the Stargate was on a dais, and that said dais was mostly buried by sand. It would take Colonel O’Neill about two seconds to figure that out on his own and then…
“Shit, where’s the DHD?”
“There does not appear to be one, O’Neill.”
Sam wondered if Teal’c was always going to state the obvious. In some ways, she found it kind of endearing and goodness knew she needed any little bit of connection she could get with him. He was so formal all the time, and so silent. It made her nervous more often than not, to be honest, and reminded her more than the tattoo on his forehead that he was an entirely different species.
“Yeah, you think?”
“I do.”
Yes, bless Teal’c. The colonel looked so cranky and exasperated that it was almost humorous. If they hadn’t just been dumped in prison—albeit a very nice prison—Sam might have laughed. As it was, she held her amusement to a smile and then held out her hand to Daniel, who grasped it and clumsily scrambled to his feet. Her shoulder felt the strain, making her think she was doing more to get Daniel vertical than he was himself. She let go once he stood rather waveringly, and then she rubbed her strained shoulder.
“So priority one is to find the DHD,” Sam said, shooting Daniel an annoyed look for her newest ache. Great, though, now she was channeling Teal’c, only from her it didn’t sound very charming at all. She could tell the colonel was glaring at her. She made a show of searching for the missing device. “But we might not even need it. The Stargate could have an extra reserve of power and we could dial out manually.”
“Like on Ernest’s planet,” Daniel said.
“There wasn’t any reserve power there. You were off busy seeking the meaning of life while we all had to juice the thing up.” O’Neill started pacing.
Sam raised her eyebrows at the jab aimed toward Daniel, and had to admit he was right about the ‘gate. They had no guarantee they’d be able to dial out.
“We do what Carter said first, and look for the DHD. It’s not like we don’t have time to search the vicinity of the Stargate on this veritable oasis of a planet.”
Veritable? Not a huge linguistic stretch of vocabulary, but the usage certainly made her think her CO wasn’t as dim as he’d like people to believe. And, again, she had to admit he had a valid point—they could all work on their tans while they conducted their search. Sam knew she wouldn’t complain if they ended up having to spend a little time here.
“We’ve just won five days and four nights in sunny Puerto Vallarta?” She could stand to work on her game show announcer voice, judging from the strange looks that got her. “Er.”
“Yeah, Carter.”
O’Neill’s expression was now wary, as if he expected a second head to grow on her shoulder. She didn’t see why he was the only one who could have a sense of humor.
“But without the gourmet meals.”
“Oh,” Daniel said. “No MREs.”
If only they knew then what they knew now. Wasn’t that how the expression went? Chances were they would still have given their food and blankets and water purification tablets and canteens … oh, crap, this could be bad. Sam looked at Daniel, who was looking at his feet. She could see why he might think this was his fault, somehow, but it simply wasn’t. The point might not even be an important one. They could find the DHD right away and be back at the SGC in a matter of minutes. She glanced at the dense underbrush and didn’t think she was going to be right on that count.
“We won’t need them.” Sam smiled. False confidence was still confidence, sort of. Right?
“All right,” the colonel said. “Carter, Teal’c, take south of the gate.”
“Jack, the DHD is never off to the side somewhere. Shouldn’t we search the beach?”
“Oh, yes, Daniel. We will search the beach. That’s our job.”
She and Teal’c got to root around in the thick tangle of plants while the colonel and Daniel frolicked on the beach. In her way of reasoning, that was unfair. Sam eyed her search partner, who was taking off his backpack, vest and jacket and exposing ample biceps in the process. She changed her mind. Not so unfair after all. She thought she just realized another reason why Teal’c was starting to grow on her. If she was going to get all sweaty in the underbrush, at least she had him to look at.
“Great.” Daniel started removing excess clothing as well, and so did the colonel.
Sam decided they could be stranded here for a good long while and it wouldn’t bother her a bit. She never would have guessed Daniel had muscle, but she caught a glimpse of decently toned arms when his shirtsleeves rode up a little. And the colonel wasn’t bad to look at either. No wonder other females at the SGC gave her dirty looks all the time. Not that she’d ever do anything but admire. Admiration was nice and safe.
“We’ll probably need to dig,” Daniel said.
O’Neill adopted a horrified expression, which lasted a millisecond before he schooled it into bored indifference.
Sam grinned, turning away quickly so her CO wouldn’t see that she had glimpsed his comprehension. There was a lot of sand. She lost her smile when she considered Daniel and O’Neill would still be digging long after she and Teal’c finished their search, and that she’d be digging right alongside them.
“I’ll keep an eye out for signs of sentient life,” the colonel said, walking a few steps closer to the lapping waves. “We could be on a world populated with those fish people.”
“To whom do you refer?”
“Nem?”
Daniel and Teal’c spoke almost in sync. Daniel appeared startled by it, and Teal’c just raised his eyebrow. Actually, Daniel looked a little peaked and pale. He often looked pained around Teal’c, though she doubted he realized it. It couldn’t be easy, Sam thought, to work side by side with one of the people responsible for the abduction and Goa’uld implantation of a loved one. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to handle it quite as well as Daniel did every day.
“Yeah, that guy.”
“You don’t think…wait a minute,” Daniel said. He wavered on his feet again, and Sam narrowed her eyes. He’d been upright for a while, he shouldn’t be having difficulty keeping balance anymore. “Are you really going to make me do this by myself while you stare at the water?”
“Consider it strength training.” O’Neill turned to give Daniel a quick smirk, then did a double take.
Sam followed his gaze back to Daniel, who actually managed to look more tired than he had mere seconds ago.
The colonel frowned and said, “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. I could use some exercise myself.”
“Yes.” Daniel smiled a little uncertainly, but it did make him seem slightly less drawn. “I’ve heard that staying in shape becomes more difficult past a certain age.”
Damn, Sam wished she could speak to the colonel like that—flippant and relaxed. She let out a small chuckle as she shucked her own jacket. O’Neill spluttered something in reply, but she was busy eyeing the plant life she was about to come up and close and personal with. She put the jacket back on. Teal’c might have a built-in boosted immune system, but she didn’t. It could easily be a patch of alien poison ivy for all she knew.
The bird in the trees shrieked again, joined by a number of others. A flutter of activity drew her attention upward in time to see several gigantic creatures launching into the air. They flew with fluid grace and beauty, and for a moment she was captivated by how something so seemingly commonplace could be so unfamiliar at the same time. The ‘birds’ didn’t have feathers as far as she could see, and their beaks were long and powerful. Even from her vantage point fifty feet below, she could see ridged protrusions jutting out from their crowns. They looked … they didn’t look like birds, exactly.
Sam felt Teal’c move by her and she looked back down. She was apparently the only one looking up. The colonel and Daniel were already busy studiously checking the area of the beach where the DHD would logically be, based on previous experiences. Tossing one last fleeting look aloft, she then joined Teal’c. They weren’t going to find the DHD where they were searching, she thought, but she could do a cursory survey of what natural resources they could glean if they had to. If the DHD was buried it was still going to take time to dig it out. She looked up again, staring at the suns’ filtered rays.
“Teal’c, do you know if solar energy could charge a Stargate if it was exposed long enough?”
“I believe it cannot,” he said. “My knowledge, however, is limited. The Goa’uld were careful to do nothing that might encourage questions among the ranks of Jaffa.”
“And that included revealing the technology, because if you knew it was all explainable you wouldn’t believe in them anymore.”
“Much like Tau’ri children eventually learn there is no such thing as Santa Claus.”
“Yes,” Sam said with surprise. “How did you know about that?”
“I read extensively.”
She wished they had the same luxury with Teal’c's culture. As it was they usually didn’t get information from him until any given Goa’uld issue was quite imminent. Sam didn’t know how her commanding officers managed to be okay with such a convenient, limited exchange of information. She didn’t expect Teal’c to sit down and write The Manual to All Things Goa’uld for them, but he could share a bit more openly. But that was neither here nor there.
“I suppose you have to have something do to while we’re not on missions.”
“Indeed.”
Teal’c parted various clumps of greenery, but it was as she suspected—the DHD was not there. Actually, if they had found it here, it would have been a bad, bad thing. The only way she could imagine it situated over here was if it had been disconnected somehow and moved, therefore rendered useless. She watched Teal’c for any adverse reactions to the plants, but he didn’t demonstrate any. Even with a symbiote helping him, he probably would have some type of initial reaction. She thought. Maybe.
“Skin contact does not appear harmful, Captain Carter.”
Nonplussed, Sam glanced at Teal’c. Her face must have given her trepidation away, because he’d sussed out her thoughts easily. He tipped his head at her. She reached out and swept her hand against a hanging vine. So far so good, no reaction, but there had better not be a delayed reaction. She’d had a bad run-in with poison oak as a kid and did not ever want a repeat of that experience. She peeked over at Teal’c with a smile.
“That’s good. At least we’ll have a natural resource for toilet paper if we’re here long enough to need it.”
“Indeed,” he said. “It is fortuitous.”
Sam swore she saw the beginnings of an answering smile.
She grinned back. It was warm back here, any breeze from the ocean or lake or sea or whatever not making it through the thick foliage. Deeming it safe enough and dispelling with her paranoia surrounding the plant life, Sam eased out of her jacket. She felt about ten degrees cooler instantly.
“I suppose we should go help Daniel and the colonel dig holes on the beach.”
“Would it not be a wise idea to further explore the topography of this world, Captain Carter? As O’Neill suggested, there may indeed be sentient life forms present.”
“Stands to reason, Teal’c.” Sam nodded to herself. She did not relish the thought of digging holes, and if they were here they might as well gain some intel. They could even find something of use here, and then their casting off here would have yet another bonus. “I mean, we were sent here, right? Someone else might have been.”
“I do not believe beings will come from the sea as O’Neill suggested. We should determine if there is more than fowl here, and also what level of threat any life form could be.”
See? Teal’c was very pragmatic and helpful. Sam hoped she could maintain a comfort level with him so that if he had suggestions he wouldn’t hesitate to give them without prompting. Something told her it wouldn’t be that easy. Easy was not a word she’d use to describe any facet of Teal’c that she had seen so far. From what she could tell, he was a warrior first, friend a very distant second and his barriers were solid.
“I think you’re right. We should probably let the others know, though.” She touched a hand to her radio, then dropped it. “After we’ve gone further inland.”
Teal’c gave her another almost-smile. She figured it would be harder for the colonel to say no if they were already doing reconnaissance. That was a handy trick she learned from Daniel, even if the instruction was unintentional on his part. She gave Teal’c point, getting her weapon at the ready.
They made it about one hundred, uneventful steps.
“Carter, Teal’c!”
The colonel hadn’t even used his radio, bellowing loudly instead. He didn’t sound angry. He sounded panicked. Sam moved without thinking, running back toward the beach. Teal’c started out behind her, but quickly sped past her.
“Carter!”
She sped up, heart racing from more than the exertion. She didn’t know why the colonel hadn’t used his radio and tried to tell herself it was because he assumed she and Teal’c were nearer than they were. Sam broke through the foliage only a second behind Teal’c and saw the colonel kneeling over Daniel, who was in a graceless sprawl and clearly unconscious.
“Sir, what happened?” she said as she slid to her knees next to the colonel. “Daniel?”
“I don’t know. I was facing the other direction. I asked him a question and when he didn’t answer, I turned around and there he was.”
It probably wasn’t a normal faint. Most people who pass out start regaining some sort of consciousness the moment they hit the ground. Daniel wasn’t moving at all, and his face was a terrible shade of gray. Sam lifted her MP-5 over her head, putting it aside and out of her way. She leaned close to Daniel in an attempt to gain more than a visual assessment. There were no obvious signs of injury. She started at the head, running her fingers along Daniel’s scalp.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” the colonel said, more to himself than to her, Sam thought. “I would have heard if something attacked him, right, and they wouldn’t have just singled him out.”
“No head trauma.” Sam frowned. “Sir, look at the bruises on his arms. They’re just forming.”
“Bruises on his arms wouldn’t make him pass out, Carter.”
“I know that, sir.” She was embarrassed about mentioning them, but so far it was the only physical ailment she had detected. She shook her head and continued her evaluation. There was nothing noticeable with Daniel’s neck, torso or legs. “Whatever this is, it’s not from an injury.”
“He’s sick?”
O’Neill scowled when she shrugged and put her hand on Daniel’s forehead. He was a little warm to the touch, but they were in a pretty warm climate now and not dressed for it. They all probably felt warm.
“Daniel Jackson did appear unwell.”
“Yeah, I noticed that,” Sam said, leaving her hand where it was. Daniel’s hair was damp. She brushed what stuck to his temples back absently. “He looked tired, unsteady on his feet.”
“So, what? He just fell asleep?”
The subject in question moaned and shifted under her touch. Daniel started moving his hands in a bare, haphazard rhythm. His fingers lifted up off the ground and went back down, up and down. Sam gave her attention to his face for indications he was waking up, but his eyes remained closed. His glasses were askew. She removed her hand from his forehead to ease the frames off his face. Even that didn’t rouse him into consciousness, though his hands raised higher and his legs moved.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know, sir.” Her exasperation manifested itself in a snappish tone. He couldn’t really expect an answer. “We might not know until Daniel wakes up.”
“Whenever that’ll be,” the colonel said, sounding for all the world like he was angry.
Which was how Sam knew he was really worried.
It was strange. Daniel couldn’t recognize the noise he heard far off in the distance, but he knew what it was. That didn’t make sense. His head, his head. His head felt funny. Shup-pish. Shup-pish. Sharp sound tapering off into something softer, less defined, and it seemed to be getting louder. Closer? Something. He concentrated, trying to pinpoint the exact noise. Name that tune. He twitched his fingers. Sand. It occurred to him maybe he should be worried that he didn’t know where he was as much, if not more, than figuring out the cause of the odd sound.
“Sir, I think he’s waking up.”
Sam? Oh, good, Sam was here at least, and Jack. The shup-pishing stopped, replaced by phut-phutting. There was a regular old big band playing in his head, but there was no discernable song. The strange racket kind of made him sick to his stomach. Sick, sick. His skin felt hot. He had no idea why. Tiny pellets of sand sprinkled against his right hand and arm, and he noticed the phut-phut stopped.
“Daniel?”
Digging. He and Jack were supposed to be digging in the sand for the DHD. Shup-pish was a shovel or something. So Jack was digging and he was lying in the sand instead. That didn’t seem right.
“Hey, Daniel?”
Without digging, we’ll never find the DHD, Daniel said, or at least meant to. Jack didn’t comment, which wasn’t very like Jack at all, so Daniel wondered if he had actually spoken out loud. Small steps—open eyes first, talk later. He’d really rather not, he decided. His eyes were just fine in their closed state.
“Are you sure? He doesn’t look any different than the last five times you thought he was waking up.”
Five times. Wow, that seemed like a lot. If Jack abandoned digging each time … Daniel’s head swam. Because he was apparently unwell. He’d figured that out already. He thought he had, anyway. He really couldn’t recall.
“Hey … Daniel?”
Okay. He still didn’t want to, but Jack seemed insistent and Sam worried. He tried. His eyelids didn’t move, feeling stuck together with adhesive. The effort made his head go from feeling funny to hurting. He moaned in discomfort but was also pleased his voice box worked.
“Heard that,” Jack said.
Something cool brushed across his forehead, stronger than a breeze. He was so warm, he realized. He leaned into the coolness, but it didn’t last. Disappointment shot through him, along with a deeper flush of heat. He focused on opening his eyes again, succeeding enough to see a sliver of light and a peach blob above him.
“There he is. Daniel?”
That was about the twentieth time Jack had said his name, an occurrence which alone made him nervous. People didn’t repeat names often during the course of a conversation, although this couldn’t be said to be a conversation.
“Stay with us now, Daniel.”
Daniel opened his eyes wider, feeling better once doing so but not by much. The last thing he remembered he had been staring down at the sand and wondering how he could see the individual grains from a standing position. That and the terrible disturbance the bird-things were making up in the trees. It was all coming back to him … he hadn’t been standing. He had seen the individual grains of sand only after faceplanting into it.
“Okay,” Daniel said. This time he actually made sound, even if it wasn’t entirely understandable as speech. His mouth felt as though he had slept with a wad of cotton batting in it. “Okay.”
“Here, sip some water,” said the peach blob, which turned out to be Sam.
His eyes were almost as fuzzy as his mouth and, coupled with his slight correction or lack thereof, really impaired his vision. The proffered canteen tipped up. Water dribbled down his chin.
“Sorry,” Sam said.
The water felt good. He licked his lips. The small amount of moisture that had made it onto them helped a lot. Daniel cleared his throat and lifted his head to check out his surroundings. He managed to see he was under the shelter of a lean-to, and then the semi-cool thing on his forehead increased in pressure, pushing him back down to the ground. He protested with a grunt. He felt much better already, only a few minutes after waking up.
“You should take it easy.” It was cloth—a bandana—on his head. Sam took it away for a moment, returning it wet and cool again. “You’ve been out of it for five hours, Daniel.”
“I’m fine … I think.”
“You’ve been feverish and unconscious for…”
“Five hours,” Daniel said. He coughed. Could use more water. “I heard that. I’m feeling much better.”
“Better than when? You’ve been senseless for…”
“Five hours.” This was getting old. The clearer his head became, the more annoying the circular conversation got. “Better than when I first woke up.”
“Two minutes ago.”
“Yes. What, uhm, what happened?”
Sam leaned closer, looking into his eyes. She seemed puzzled. Her hand went to his hair, fingers running through it as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. To his recollection, she had never done that with him. Unless, of course, that was how she had spent the past several hours.
“We were hoping you could tell us.”
“You passed out,” Jack said, poking his head next to Sam’s. Light colored dust covered Jack’s face, settling most thickly on his nose. “When did you start feeling sick?”
Daniel moved his head, evading Sam’s touch. She pulled away like she just realized what she was doing. If he thought about it, it was a little worrisome that he couldn’t remember feeling poorly. Or the beginning of feeling poorly, he corrected. While he might sense a slight improvement, he had to admit he felt pretty crappy.
“I don’t know that I did, exactly.”
“How do you feel now?”
It wouldn’t pay to downplay, he could tell that just by the expressions Jack and Sam wore. Daniel took a mental tally, and found he wasn’t quite sure how to answer the question.
“Strange,” he said.
“Strange how?” Jack swiped at his forehead, smearing the dust off. “Daniel, you have to help us out here.”
“Achy. Uhm…” He blinked and wanted to keep his eyes shut. So he did. “Tired. My skin hurts.”
“So, you passed out because you have the flu?”
“Sir.”
“Well, it sounds like he has the flu.”
Shup-pish. Shup-pish. The sound was back. Daniel might have been wrong in thinking it was the sound of shoveling. Maybe it was just his head, which ached more acutely again. Feeling better was apparently temporary or some sort of illusion or both of those options.
“Sir, the flu doesn’t knock a person off his feet so quickly. It takes days.”
“I was just sayin’.”
“Ahm,” Daniel said to stop their tangential conversation. They stopped the inanity, but then he couldn’t remember what it was he was going to say. “Ahm.”
“Daniel?”
“Mmm?”
“Daniel,” Sam said, “You have to try to stay awake.” Rustling cloth, softly crunching sand close to him. Sam sounded like she was talking through a tube. “This is not the flu, sir. Damnit.”
“What?”
“I think his temperature is rising again.”
Hot. Fever? That explained a lot but nothing. Daniel felt terrible. Worse than terrible, though he wasn’t sure what to call that. Confused. Fuzzy. He tried to talk but just ended up sounding like a bagpipe in the hands of an amateur, at least to himself.
“If we don’t start getting fluids in him…”
“I know, Carter,” Jack said, and unlike Sam’s, his voice was clear in Daniel’s ears despite the words being spoken very softly.
Daniel noticed for the first time that there was pressure on his right forearm. It felt like a hand. He somehow knew it was Jack’s hand. Oh, this was bad, then.
“I know he doesn’t have the flu and I know he needs to keep hydrated.”
Jack was concerned, and Daniel felt bad about that. He was okay, just tired. He opened his eyes again. The fever explained why his head was off. He always got a little thick when sick. Lyrical, too, apparently. Thick when sick, thick when sick. It was his new mantra. He rhymed.
“I’m awake. I can hear you,” Daniel said. “Thick when sick.”
Jack and Sam’s faces appeared above him, simultaneous and sudden. The expressions they bore were comical to him, in a somewhat inappropriate way. They looked so stunned he had to laugh. Thick when sick. Something wasn’t right.
“Hey, where’s Teal’c?” he said.
“What does thick when sick mean?” Sam frowned at him.
Daniel heard a maraca shaking out a terrible rhythm. The shup-pishing continued in the distance, and Daniel was reminded of a band again. Mariachi this time.
“Here, take these. They’ll help keep your fever in check.”
The maraca stopped with one final, big shake. Sam slipped something onto his lips. Pills. They were bitter and he didn’t want to take them into his mouth, but he figured Sam knew what she was talking about. Daniel opened up and the bitterness increased as the tablets dissolved until the canteen was tipped to his lips and he swallowed the tablets down. The water felt cool against his throat.
“Head thick.” His arm was floppy as he lifted it and waggled his hand by his head once. His arm fell back down to the ground at an awkward angle. “It’s hard to, ah, hard to think.”
“I’m sorry, Daniel, but I have to ask this. Do you remember touching anything here? Or did you smell something, maybe?”
“Nothing.” He hadn’t even stopped to smell the flowers. Not that he could, because he hadn’t seen any. Not that he would because flowers usually made him sneeze and he didn’t make it a habit to do things that would make him miserable. Shup-pish. Teal’c. Shup-pish. Teal’c was still digging, that’s where he was. “Found the DHD?”
“Yeah. So you didn’t touch anything?” Jack didn’t look like he believed him. C’est la vie. “Nothing at all.”
“Right.” Daniel closed his eyes. They felt hot inside his skull, like they were melting into thick jelly. Thick when sick. “Good.”
“Not that good. Sir, I think we’re losing him again.”
Sam shouldn’t talk with a hand over her mouth. He was pretty sure he was tired. Exhausted. Couldn’t possibly get enough sleep. Daniel didn’t know that his head felt thick so much as it was floaty. He was getting dizzy and he just wanted it to stop.
“Teal’c, tell me you’ve got that thing uncov…”
