06 - Siren Song (24 page)

A part of Daniel’s mind thought that might be a good idea. But another part,
a part he hoped was small enough to go unnoticed, was struck by what Jack said
about usefulness.

He considered the ribbon of agitation that ran through Sebek and down along
the hallway ahead of them, a keen thrumming of desire that was verging on
physical pain, like the irresistible drag of addiction. That was a familiar
feeling. He could understand that. The memory of the sarcophagus coalesced,
bringing with it the ghost of elation, a wash of wellbeing, of strength and
power. And anger and hatred and need. How many times had Daniel gone through the cycle of
death and life, injury and repair, and finally hunger and fulfillment while
Shyla waited for him to become bound to her by dependency? He’d deliberately not
kept track. How many times had Sebek crawled into the gold coffin and waited to
cheat time? A hundred? A thousand? Power and elation, anger and need. They
coursed through Daniel now, barely attenuated by the years, and he realized,
suddenly, that he didn’t know if these were Sebek’s remembered feelings or his
own.

Daniel struggled to keep his focus, and to do it quietly, if that were even
possible. But this could be useful. Sebek’s need could be just the thing. On all
sides of them, broken only by the occasional empty column, the cryptic symbols
marched on, luring Sebek down into what Daniel believed to be an elaborate maze.
It had a structure, a symmetry; nothing about the patterns they were following
was accidental, and it certainly wasn’t intended to get people lost. Confuse
them, perhaps, or slow them down—that was possible. But whatever was behind
the design here, it wanted to be found. Even Daniel could feel it, the seduction
of it. The Ancients knew something about this place; they’d been here, left a
warning, locked the door. The answer to the place had to be, at least partly,
with them. And what the Ancients had was once his, though he couldn’t access it
consciously.

Once before, he’d gained control of his body, and Sebek had been pushed
aside. But why? The external dissonance of this place had helped, but there had
to be a way to open the door, to gain some advantage. If only he could find it.

Sebek could sense Daniel hiding his thoughts. He gave Daniel pain, a long,
slow burn of sensation across his nerve endings—Sebek seemed immune, but
Daniel’s agony bloomed through every portion of his consciousness. Then came the
vision again, the image of Jack, scrambling away from the horror of being taken
as host.

You won’t,
Daniel thought as clearly and as loudly as he could.

A tiny tendril of Sebek’s attention turned from the symbols and their
progress along the gloomy hall to wonder, not terribly intensely, why Daniel
thought so, because clearly, Sebek would do whatever he chose.

You won’t because of this,
Daniel thought again, and this time, he didn’t
resist when the scent of ripe, pink flowers flooded his mind. It was like
throwing himself backward off a cliff, falling through the smell of rot and the
exquisite singing of pain and death and dissolution, all the way to the brink of
all that was the Ancient in his memory, everything his conscious mind refused to
remember. He could feel Sebek following him, the way he’d followed him into his
office, along the winding way from Indiana Jones to Sarah to the Asgard, to the
edge of the disorienting swirl of Ancient knowledge Daniel could barely feel
because it was too vast and his body was so small.
This is why,
he
snarled into the noise.
Because you need me.

Jack didn’t bother to stop walking when he tossed his reply over his
shoulder. “Believe me, I could muddle through fine without you. In fact, the
galaxy took a vote and we’d all like to try getting along without the whole lot
of you.”

“What?” Daniel said numbly as he faltered to a halt. Aris, not paying as
close attention as he should have been, managed to pull up before running into
him. His armored chest brushed Daniel’s back before he stepped to the side and
leaned around to look at him expectantly.

Jack continued along for a few steps until he noticed that no one was
following and turned around. “What?”

“What?” Daniel repeated.

Shooting Jack a quizzical look, Aris said, “What?”

“It worked,” Daniel said and the relief and the excitement at the sound of
his own natural voice pushed the air out of him in a startled, incredulous
laugh. “It worked. Jack.”

Jack cocked his head and folded his arms. He needed a P90 to rest his hands
on though, to complete the familiar “cut the bull” posture. His suspicion seared
through Daniel. Of course. Jack had no reason to believe, no reason to trust. A
new kind of despair caught at Daniel’s throat. He had information Jack needed,
that he had to give him, even if Jack didn’t believe. If only he would listen
and remember what Daniel said.

Daniel held out his hands, remembering too late that one of them was still in the ribbon device, which was now aimed at Jack’s chest. He
dropped it hastily and took a step toward him. “I know. I know. Just… just
listen to me. I don’t know how much time I have, so just listen.”

Jack shifted his gaze to some spot on the wall and sighed out a weary, “We
danced this dance already.”

“I know. You have no reason to believe it’s me. But it is, Jack.” Daniel’s
heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear his own voice. He wondered when
Sebek would tamp that down again. But he didn’t want to think of Sebek. Speak of
the devil. He felt Sebek pressing, shoving, battering at him; he ignored it, and
the small waves of pain beginning to track through his body. “Remember all those
times we’ve seen the symbiote suppressed by… by technology or… design. When
Sha’re was pregnant and, and, and when… at Skaara’s trial, the Tollan had that
disengagement device that allowed Skaara to speak freely. Remember?” Jack’s face
was expressionless, his eyes still staring at nothing. “You remember. And this,
this is like that. Something here is doing it, like we saw before, in the way
the Jaffa were affected.” Daniel took another step and Jack moved away, keeping
his distance. “Okay, fine, then you can listen, just listen to me.”

Aris was keeping pace with him, his forehead wrinkled in an eloquent frown
that was part confusion and part bemusement.

“Sebek isn’t in complete control. I don’t know why for sure. But he’s
obsessed with this place and whatever he thinks is in here. A weapon, something
that will make him powerful, that he can use to challenge Yu, maybe. It doesn’t
matter. He’s… broken somehow—of course, they all are, but he’s extra broken.
There’s something wrong with him. He’ll threaten you. He’ll threaten to take you
as a host, Jack, but he won’t follow through. Not unless I become too weak to
support him.”

Now Jack’s gaze stabbed through him again.

Daniel smiled and shook his head. “He says he’ll take you. He says that to
keep me quiet, but he won’t do it, because he needs what I know, what the
Ancients left in me. The threat’s empty, Jack. You can use that.” Tapping
himself sharply on the temple, Daniel came forward again and this time Jack stayed put. “Everything’s there, Jack. We
can use it. We can use Sebek to get it for us. Everything that happened to me.
The meaning of life st—”

He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence because Jack was moving fast,
stepping into his space. Jack grabbed his pleading hand and twisted it behind
his back, using his momentum and his weight to propel Daniel forward, away from
Aris, face-first into the wall, his other wiry arm pinning Daniel across the
back of his neck. Daniel could feel the vibration of Jack’s rage as he leaned in
and pressed him harder against the stone. Fighting his own reflexes, augmented
now with Sebek’s power, Daniel forced himself not to resist. Distantly, he
noticed that he was leaning against one of those blank columns, and above his
head, a watery light glowed from a narrow groove where the ceiling met the wall.
One mystery solved.

Jack’s breath was hot against the side of Daniel’s neck when he spoke, a low,
furious whisper.
“You
listen. I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer,
but I’m not as stupid as you seem to think I am. And if you use Daniel’s voice
to talk to me again, I swear, Aris will not get to me before I get to you.”

To make his point, Jack twisted Daniel’s arm a little harder, enough to make
Daniel’s mouth fall open in a silent gasp of pain. External pain was bad. Pain
threatened static and loss of focus, and Sebek was close to the surface. Daniel
considered throwing Jack off of him. He could do it. Sebek was strong enough.

“Jack, please,” he managed, but the words were drowned out by a click and
rising whine. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out Aris’ looming
shape, and the gleam of light along the muzzle of his blaster. It was resting
against the side of Jack’s head.

“Yes, Jack, please,” Aris repeated with a mocking sneer, then pulled back and
shot him.

It was dusk when they returned to the shelter. Deep twilight had settled over
the sooty valley and brought a sharp chill on its heels. When Sam pushed aside
the thin curtain and stepped into the shack, she found the room still full of
strangers, but she was less wary about making her way through them this time. No
one stood in her way, although they muttered amongst themselves as she passed.
She wondered if maybe they were trying to make up their minds about her and
Teal’c—whether to turn them in, or send them out on their own—but she was
too tired to worry about it now. If it was going to happen, she couldn’t stop
it.

Teal’c was awake, half-sitting against the wall beneath the latticed window.
He was peeling back the fresh bandage and poking beneath. With a nod to Aadi,
who was crouching by the fire, she knelt at Teal’c’s side.

“Teal’c. It’s good to see you awake.” She covered his hand with her own,
squeezing a little, and pressed the bandage back in place. “We don’t have much
gauze for sterile dressings.”

“It does not matter,” Teal’c said. Pain creased his forehead. “I needed to
see the depth of the wound for myself, but it appears to be healing well.”

“The tretonin probably has something to do with that.”

“Indeed.” Teal’c’s gaze shifted to Brenneka, who stood beside Sam, silent as
stone, then to Aadi, who had inched marginally closer. “Thank you.”

“Thank Esa,” Brenneka said, in a clipped tone. “He’s the one who risked his
life for you. My home was crawling with Jaffa when Esa stole these things from
the hiding place there.” It was the way she spat the word
-you
- as if
Teal’c was the lowest form of life in the room. Sam frowned, but Teal’c’s
expression was calm, so she let it go. They had saved Teal’c’s life, and she
wasn’t in a position to complain.

Esa wasn’t among the strangers still cluttering the small space in the room, so Sam shook her head at Teal’c. He nodded his understanding.
Slowly, he looked around the room, watching each person for a short time and
taking the measure of each man in turn. She’d done it herself, earlier.

“Teal’c, these people are Aris’ kinsfolk,” she said. “You’ve met Aadi… and
this is Brenneka.” She didn’t bother with trying to remember the names of the
others; even if they had been identified, she had relegated the information to
the back of her brain as not important now. Teal’c inclined his head toward
Brenneka, who gave a curt nod before turning her back on him.

Sam eased herself down to the ground beside Teal’c and scooted back for the
support of the wall. Every bone in her body was aching, and hunger and
exhaustion were catching up with her. One thing after another since they’d been
captured… her skin felt stretched too tightly over her bones, as if it might
crack and she would spill out in the margins. She turned her face toward Teal’c,
to speak as privately as possible—not like that much privacy was possible
here. Aadi would hear all they said to each other in these cramped quarters.

“How are you really feeling?” she asked, under her breath.

“It appears to be a superficial wound. I will be able to travel within a few
hours.”

“Even without a symbiote?” she said, and then cringed. Of course she didn’t
need to remind him. Maybe she was reminding herself. Teal’c had been able to
avail himself of a symbiote’s healing powers for so long that she’d never
considered what might happen if that ability was stripped away. She was sure
Teal’c had, though they had never talked about it.

“Even without a symbiote,” Teal’c confirmed. Sam sighed, and her body relaxed
another fraction of a degree. Part of her had expected him to say it would take
longer, or that he was in serious pain. That same part feared they were going to
be stuck here, or lose Daniel, or the Colonel. It was the part of her that was
clueless about how to get out of this mess.

“I don’t have a concrete plan,” she told him up front, confessing her failure
as a tactician. “So much has happened.” Brenneka was kneeling by the hearth, but her head was angled toward Sam. No doubt she was
absorbing everything. “The bottom line is, Aris is going to kill Sebek, and
Daniel in the process. He wants whatever is in that vault. These people think
it’s a weapon the Ancients left for them.” She watched this register with
Teal’c, watched his eyebrow raise and his expression harden. He pushed himself
upright with a grunt, leaning heavily on one arm.

“We must attempt a rescue before Aris Boch makes his move.”

“Agreed,” Sam said. “But with what?” She tapped the
zat,
secure at her
side. “Against dozens, maybe hundreds of Jaffa? We’re in no shape to take on
even a small portion of his army.”

“What do you suggest?”

She looked into Teal’c’s eyes, warmed by the confidence and trust there. No
way was she going to open her mouth and say
J don’t know
and blow all
that out of the water. So instead she said, “We need more weapons, and people to
handle them.” If they’d been alone, she might have told Teal’c she suspected
Brenneka and her Order had more up their collective sleeves than cold huts and
gruel, but she had no proof.