Hostile Ground Part 20

Onward they ran, heading downhill toward a sc.r.a.ppy line of trees. They were free, they had escaped. But Teal'c felt no triumph, no victory, only a heavy sense of loss. And though he did not look at his friends, he knew their thoughts were one with his.

O'Neill, left in the grasp of the enemy. Perhaps already dead.

Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, the Devourer marched Jack from the lab. Somewhere, further down the corridor, he could hear the echo of staff blasts and the rattle of gunfire. These life-sucking b.a.s.t.a.r.ds obviously weren't happy to let their lunch escape so easily and Jack could only hope that Hunter was honest enough, or at least self-interested enough, to show his team how to get the h.e.l.l out of this place.

Jack's own weapons were still back in the lab with the rest of his gear, and the thing holding him was huge, bigger than any of the other Devourers they'd seen so far, so he guessed that any attempt at escape would just land him a broken neck - or worse.

Despite his captor's size, however, Jack got the impression that it was just a grunt and that he was being taken to face whatever counted for higher management among these sons of b.i.t.c.hes.

Eventually, they arrived at a door which slid open as they approached. Jack was thrown into a large room with a towering ceiling. Around the walls of the room and through its center sat tables with an array of equipment on each. None of it looked like anything SG-1 had encountered on its travels but, unlike the hodgepodge of tech that had been strewn about the laboratory he'd just left, all of this equipment had a similar appearance. He didn't have Daniel or Carter's expert eye, but Jack would have bet that it all had the same origin. Another difference he noted from the laboratory was that the tech in this room was very well cared for. Valuable, then.

"You are Lantean."

The voice was a hiss from the corner of the room and Jack spun towards it. From the shadows, walked a shape. A Devourer, slender like the others, clad in a buckled leather robe. Its skin was pallid, almost translucent in the ship's eerie blue light, and its ratted hair was white. Only with this one, something wasn't right. 'Walk' was the wrong word to describe the way it moved, this thing's movements were jerky, as if it hadn't mastered basic motor control. It crouched as it came forward, arms held out at its side. Jack tried in vain not to be seriously creeped out by the sight.

"You," it said again, with no inflection. "You are Lantean."

And there was that word again. Jack wasn't sure what it meant, all he knew was that it had so far prevented him from being turned into a human juice box. "From Minnesota actually, but I guess my accent's faded a little."

The thing closed its eyes and lowered its head, murmuring something under its breath. Jack strained to make it out and wished he hadn't when the words resolved themselves into a chant.

"Bloodbloodbloodbloodblood."

The Amam's eyes sprang open again and Jack recoiled, pinned by a frightening reptilian stare. It pointed a clawed finger at him. "You have Ancient blood."

Jack narrowed his eyes, considering that for a moment. There was of course the question of how it seemed to know what had happened in the lab without the grunt having said a word - Jack himself was still trying to figure out exactly what had happened - but that wasn't what struck him as being important right now.

Ancient.

Daniel had said their language was rooted in Ancient. And if they had some kind of connection to the gate builders then maybe they might also have the means to dial out without a DHD. It was worth pursuing.

But he knew he had to buy time, play this one carefully. If he just asked straight out, they were hardly likely to help him. "Well," he said, "I have some blood, and sure, sometimes it feels a little olda"

But the Amam wasn't listening. It jerked its head towards Jack's silent guard, its chin jutting upwards, and bared its teeth with a hiss. It was then that Jack realized what was so unsettling about this situation, what was so wrong with this creature compared to the other Devourers they had encountered so far. They had been cold, emotionless, calculated. This one was plain, tinfoil hat, bats.h.i.t crazy.

Without a word, the grunt turned and left the room.

"Hey," called Jack, to its retreating back, "you don't wanna stay a while? Split a six pack? Watch the game? Not leave me with Charles Manson here?" But the door closed and he found himself alone in the room with Crazy. With a grimace, he turned back to face his new companion. "I'm gonna miss that guy."

Crazy rounded the table and came towards him. Jack tried not to recoil as it leaned in as if taking his scent. The thing drew back and c.o.c.ked his head. It looked down and to the side, as if searching its memory for some forgotten knowledge. "You... hunger. You require food."

"Um, no," he replied, not exactly relishing this bizarre attempt at hospitality - Hansel and Gretel had probably had a similar offer. He ignored the sudden growling of his stomach at the thought of food. His last MRE had been in Aedan's camp and who knew how long ago that had been? "I never eat standing up," he said.

But evidently Crazy had either forgotten the offer or hadn't been that interested in Jack's response because it turned back around to the table of equipment and thrust out its hand, pointing at the s.p.a.ce next to him. Jack took this as a summons and keeping as much distance between him and the alien as possible, approached the table. "This is some pretty cool stuff you got here," he said looking down at the array of gadgets.

Although, in truth, 'gadgets' was doing these objects a disservice, because they were quite beautiful, each of them rendered in exquisite gla.s.s and metalwork. He was sure Daniel would have had a field day, but for his part, Jack could at least appreciate how pretty they were.

The Amam ran his hand lightly across their surface, with something that looked almost like reverence. "Such beauty," he murmured, in a way that made Jack doubt that it was speaking to him directly. "The G.o.ds who left their children. They made them and then they left them. Salvation or d.a.m.nation. The choice was simple."

"Look," said Jack, "I appreciate that you people are just trying to get on with... with whatever it is you're getting on with here." Crazy's head spun towards Jack, as if it had only just remembered he was in the room. Unnerved, Jack plowed on. "All I'm saying is, we don't want to intrude and I'm willing to forgive the whole 'imprisoning us and trying to eat us' thing if you can help me out. The Ancients. Do you know them? I mean, do you know who they were?"

The Amam squinted at him and for one weird moment Jack felt like the crazy one. It looked to the table and back to Jack, then reached out and picked up one of the objects that lay there. It was a transparent disc of colored gla.s.s about the size of a dinner plate, edged in metal. From the center, were radiating rows of characters that looked similar to the writing that had so fascinated Daniel on the screen back in the lab. Ancient, he guessed, or something like it. "Touch," said the Amam, holding out the disc. "I must see your blood. Touch."

"Oh, I'd better not. I'm sure you have some sort of 'You break it, you buy it policy.'" Crazy hissed, baring its teeth, and Jack recalled the even more vicious teeth on the palm of its hand. He took a breath and gingerly took the disc from the alien and turned it over in his hands. The writing on it was gibberish to him. Daniel, of course, would have been able to figure it out, but right now he was hoping that Daniel was at least a mile away. "Listen, I really think you've got the wrong guy. I justa"

The disc sprang to life. Beams of light spread across the ceiling of the vast room before contracting into myriad tiny pinpoints. He was no expert, but Jack knew a star chart when he saw one. He scanned the constellations, searching for any he recognized. He wondered if it was the Milky Way, and where among all those tiny points, Earth might be. That's where Carter would have proven useful.

I am so the wrong guy.

But, as his thoughts dwelt on home and where among the stars it might be, the light show began to move, like a ship moving at sub-light.

It's searching, he realized, and I'm the one making it move. With sudden alarm at where the star map might be headed, Jack threw it onto the table before it led exactly to the place he never wanted this crazy b.a.s.t.a.r.d to know existed: Earth. It landed with a crash in the midst of the surrounding artifacts.

The Amam snarled and Jack understood his mistake a second before he found himself knocked halfway to the door. Crazy stalked towards him.

"I'm sorry!" Jack said, holding his hands up. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." He pushed himself to his feet and shook the ringing from his head.

But as Crazy approached with its shambolic gait, Jack saw something that was even more unsettling than the threat of further violence. The Devourer was grinning. "You will be of use," it said. "You will lead us."

"And what use do you think I'll be?"

"I have not seen one with your power before," it said, and for the first time Jack thought he glimpsed some semblance of sanity in its expression. "The others of your kind are weak, control falters too often, and they are spent before any progress is made. But the blood... your blood is strong. You may be the one we have awaited. You will lead us, Lantean. You will let us fly."

Perhaps sanity was the wrong word to use after all.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

The fire burned bright, bringing warmth to Daniel's bones. Sam had objected to lighting it for fear that it would bring the Amam right to them, but Hunter had said it wouldn't make a difference.

It was true that their escape had seemed almost too easy. They had sprinted towards the cover of a nearby forest, downhill and away from the alien craft. Daniel had expected, with every pa.s.sing moment, a clawed hand to close on his shoulder. But the only a.s.sault had come from the tree branches that tore at their clothes and exposed hands and faces.

"They won't chase us no further," said Hunter, once they'd finally slowed. "They've got what they want."

"You mean Colonel O'Neill?" Sam had almost spat the words.

But Hunter had been unfazed by her anger. "Right enough," he said. "But don't worry, they ain't gonna feast on him. He's safe enough for now."

"How do you know?"

Hunter had just smiled, though his eyes were hard. "'Cause I know s.n.a.t.c.hers."

He'd led them then to a clearing, canopied by skeleton trees whose jagged branches cracked the darkening sky into brittle pieces of gray. From the snaking carca.s.ses of roots that jutted through the hard-baked soil, it looked like this area might once have been densely wooded. Now it was just a filigree of death and dust.

In the near distance, the behemoth that was the Amam ship lurked on the mountainside like some brooding creature, and they sat in its shadow collecting their thoughts. Looking at his friends' faces, Daniel knew they were all asking themselves the same question: What now?

"Where did you get that grenade?" Sam asked Hunter. "How did you know what it was?"

"Took it from one of the tables in the junk room. We've seen 'em before. We use what we can find and we've stolen plenty like that in the past. Sometimes we just find 'em in the dirt."

"The grenade appeared to be of Goa'uld design," Teal'c said, "although unusual. Most likely they were abandoned here during the war with the Amam."

Hunter just shrugged. "Dix provides."

His devotion to the mysterious Dix was fascinating, and Daniel wondered what role he played on this world. To Elspeth he'd been little more than a legend, yet to Hunter he seemed very much a living person.

"You said you would take us to him," said Teal'c.

Hunter just threw another bundle of sticks onto the fire. "If you lend me one of your knives, I could catch us a jacker. Some good eating in a jacker."

Sam grabbed his elbow. "Hunter, you said you would help us. We don't have time for this."

Hunter nodded and said, "I'll take you to Dix soon enough, but strangers can't just go walkin' in on him."

"Fine," said Sam, "then you take us there. Let's go. Let's go right now." She stood up, brushing the dirt from her BDUs, heading away from the light of the fire. Daniel could see how antsy she was to get moving and he could understand her impatience.

"No!" Hunter's shout split the night and Sam froze. Clearly she was as alarmed as Daniel was at the panic in the man's tone. It was more than just concern at them wandering in where they weren't welcome, though. It bordered on actual fear. Hunter took a breath and sat back, staring at the fire again. "No," he said again, quieter this time. "Ain't safe in the Shacks at night."

"Why not?" asked Sam. "What happens at night?"

"The s.n.a.t.c.hers come."

"There is no safety in your home?" said Teal'c.

Hunter huffed a bitter laugh. "There ain't no safety nowhere."

"Then why do you remain there?"

He ignored the question, just fixed his gaze on the crackling flames, and said, "I'll take you to Dix, but in the morning. In the daylight."

"Hunter," said Daniel, "our friend is back on the Amam ship. We can't leave him there."

"Going back'll only get yourselves caught."

"Maybe," Daniel said, "but we don't have a choice. We'd like to know if Dix can help us."

"He will, but not in this. That'd put us all in harm's way. Your friend... the Amam won't hurt him none. You got time."

"How much time?" Sam said. "How do you know they won't hurt him?"

"'Cause your friend's Lantean."

"He's what?"

"Lantean. The s.n.a.t.c.hers won't hurt him none, not till they're done testing him."

"Testing him?" said Daniel. "What do you mean?"

"G.o.ds' truth. There are those the s.n.a.t.c.hers take from among their harvestings, and test with workings like the one O'Neill touched. If they've the gift to work such devices, then they're taken to serve a purpose other than..." He swallowed and rubbed his hand over the center of his chest. Daniel saw Sam flinch, as if recalling the momentary pain she'd experienced.

"But to what end?" she asked. "What are they testing them for?"

"No one rightly knows. There's camp-tales, though, but most of them are nonsense."

"Tales?" said Daniel, unable to hide his interest.

Hunter sighed and rolled his eyes, as if being asked to recite a children's story for the hundredth time. "There're legends of a city that was once sunk beneath the ocean and lived in by a race of... I don't know, some call 'em G.o.ds. Seems that only the descendants of the G.o.ds - those of the Lantean blood - can restore the city and save us all."

"But you don't believe the legends."

Hunter shrugged and threw some more kindling on the fire. "Don't matter whether I believe it. What matters is that the s.n.a.t.c.hers do. And so they search for Lantean blood, like that of O'Neill. Trust me, if he complies, then his fate'll be better than any other."

"Whatever that fate may be," said Teal'c, "I am certain it is nothing good. The Goa'uld often select slaves to become their own personal attendants and treat them, for a time, as the Tau'ri may treat a cherished pet. They are still slaves however, and when their master becomes weary of them, or is displeased in anyway, the slave is dealt an unenviable punishment."

As it always did, the memory of Sha're was sudden, still painful after all this time, blessed by Apophis in the form of a symbiote in her head. He could almost see the unnatural flash of her eyes in the flames of the camp fire.

Sam pressed her lips into a thin line. "Trust me, Hunter, Colonel O'Neill is not someone who'll 'comply' with the Amam's wishes. And I sure as h.e.l.l won't be leaving him in their hands."

"Nor I, Major Carter," said Teal'c.

"You're foolish to go back," said Hunter. "It's sure death."

"Not really," said Sam. "They can't feed on me, remember?"

"The s.n.a.t.c.hers have other ways of killing. You ain't safe. Your leader man is."

"We don't leave our people behind, Hunter," said Sam. "We're going back for him."

"Then we're decided," said Daniel. Not that there had never been any other option. "So when do we head back? First light?" But then he saw the grave expression on Sam's face and realized she'd come up with another option - one he wasn't going like very much.

"Not you, Daniel."

"What?"

"Teal'c and I go back. You take my pack and go with Hunter."

"Sam, no!" There was no way he was letting them go back there alone. The stakes were too high and the idea of the four of them scattered across this barren planet filled him with unease.

"Daniel, it's the only way that makes sense. If we... if anything happens, you need to go find Dix and get a message home. You're the one who'll need to get help."

The fact that she was right only deepened his dismay, because it would be all the more difficult to talk her out of it. "Then we all go to Dix," he said. "We're stronger together."