Stargate SG-1: Trial by Fire: SG1-1 (34 page)

"What is causing this, Major Carter?"

"At a guess, lava rising into the shafts."

"Would it not melt the walls and the pillars?"

"Not with that kind of surface. Check it out." She handed him
her binoculars. "Seem familiar?"

Indeed. The surfaces were as smooth as those Daniel Jackson
had described at Peflasco Blanco and Kerkouane.

"The Tyreans didn't build this obstacle course. The technology is
way beyond them. My money's on Baal," Major Carter murmured.
"Teal'c, can you see Daniel?"

"He is still in the same position."

"Right. Plans have just changed a little. We need to

A shrill whine broke through the drone of the chant, and they
both recognized it.

The one-note litany was hypnotic, and Jack almost gratefully
latched on to the noise of the ring transporter. Five more minutes,
and he'd have believed in out-of-body experiences and taken a step
forward. Five more minutes, and he'd be toast anyway. The red-hot
mass beneath him climbed steadily. He'd be dead before it reached
him. Before long the heat would make breathing impossible. Which
would conclude his Purification, he supposed. He'd been thinking
soap and water, but the all-time knock-out purifier was fire, wasn't it?

Jack measured the distance to the outer rim of the pit again. Three
meters, give or take. Piece o' cake if you could take a running leap,
which he couldn't. He'd have to jump high and hope to hell he'd
catch the edge and not slip off. At which point somebody would
come along and stand on his fingers. If this was to work, he'd need
a diversion. His gaze strayed up to the roof. He'd seen faces there
earlier, he was sure of it. Teal'c and Carter.

Hey, Carter if you're up there, how about pulling an idea out of
your... Any part of your anatomy'll do, Major seriously, I don't -

This probably wasn't a good time to think of Carter's anatomy.

The introductory whine had silenced the chant and given way
to the whup-whup of the rings arriving. For some reason he'd
believed that Baal would make his entrance through the `gate. A ring
transporter carried nasty implications, but they'd just have to cross
that mothership when they came to it. Settled smack between the two
pits, the rings filled with a brief flare of brilliant energy and whupwhupped out of existence, leaving behind a group of six men.

Only five Jaffa. But if you were a god, you didn't need much of an
escort, right? Especially if you were a universally beloved god.

"Behold the Lord Meleq!" Kandaulo bleated somewhere behind
Jack.

If it's all the same to you guys, I'd rather not...

The crowd broke to their knees, first the acolytes, then everyone
else, and somebody was a heartbeat late because he was distracted. For a second Jack caught sight of Daniel, head cocked, hand curled to
where his lapel would be, in an unmistakable pose: radio call. Then
Daniel's face disappeared too. But something would be happening.
It had to.

Give me a diversion, kids. Give me a fighting chance. A fighting
chance...

Something happened alright. Meleq... Baal... turned to inspect
the unlikely pair of stylites. Without ever meaning to, Jack had
memorized every line of that face, every twitch of muscle, every
suave nuance of voice. Now he got the refresher, shimmering through
three meters of roiling air. Dark, narrow, patrician, and every instinct
he possessed screamed at him to simply keel forward. He'd vaporize
instantly. Nothing left to revive, and no time to even feel it. It'd make
a change.

"Who are you?" The eyes flared. "Who are you to defy the Lord
Meleq?"

No recognition. None at all. The brutal irony of it pinned Jack into
place. He hadn't mattered. It hadn't mattered. Not to Baal. Merely
routine, the casual placement of a dagger, another drop of acid, and
what's for lunch? A minor nuisance, mildly entertaining perhaps,
because it squealed, but forgettable. In the end, a waste of time, a
broken toy, broken thing.

The blank face angled away, fixed on Tertius.

"Examine your hearts and pledge yourselves to the Lord Meleq so
you may be redeemed," Kandaulo intoned.

And how did they figure that? Levitation across the pit, into the
welcoming arms of Baal?

Suddenly Jack thought he understood how all the other heretics
had died here. They'd killed themselves. Better to take a little step
off the pillar than to give up your soul to that.

"Pledge yourselves to the Lord Meleq so you may be forgiven,"
chorused the priests.

Forgiven?

"What the hell for?" he shouted.

Baal spun around.

"Vow!" yelled Daniel, virtually the same moment he heard Sam say it on his radio.

The women over in Ayzebel and Kelly's comer were on their
feet almost before him and the Phrygians, bursting into deafening
howls. Behind them, the Temple Guards flinched. Robes flying,
Daniel leapfrogged over the acolyte in front of him and raced
across the open space and towards the pits. A staff blast streaked
over his head, followed by the tinny chatter of a submachine gun.
One Jaffa went down. The others overcame their surprise way too
fast, two firing at the roof position and two aiming their weapons at
the twenty-odd men who came rushing at them. Too many targets.
Some would die, but most would make it.

"You!" Daniel hollered at three Phrygians about to overtake him
at a dead run. "Stay with me! I need you!"

The men slowed, reluctant and unsure, but they obeyed. Daniel
threw himself on the ground, skidding right up to the chasm around
Jack.

"Hold on to my legs, and for God's sake, don't let go!"

From the corner of his eye he saw Flavius break his step for a
second, pick up the principle, and race on to the second pit. Baal
and the Jaffa had got the idea as well, but they were on the wrong
side. The priests fluttered behind them like a spooked flock of
purple geese. Daniel felt fists snatch his calves and ankles, just as
one of the Jaffa readied a zat. If Jack got hit...

"Jack! Now!"

He slid forward until his entire upper body hung in the air,
scorching heat making his eyes water and lashing his face. The
spinning blue discharge from the zat'nikatel sizzled towards the
pillar and missed by a whisker. Jack came flying at him like a
demented trapeze artist, and Daniel forced himself not to notice
or think of anything but those hands reaching for his. If he didn't
catch, if he -

Strong fingers clasped his forearms, and he managed to lock his
own grip just before 190 pounds of Jack O'Neill lost momentum,
dropped, and damn near wrenched his arms from their sockets. The
fists around his legs started pulling, slowly reeling them in. Then
Daniel's upper half was back on deck, and two of the Phrygians
grabbed hold of Jack and hauled him over the edge.

The rescuee was drenched in sweat, appallingly filthy, and didn't
exactly smell of roses. "Cool catch," he croaked.

"Thanks." Rubbing a maltreated shoulder, Daniel grinned.
"Before we do this again, can you lose some weight?"

"I'll take it under advisement. Fetching costume, by the way.
Very -"

"Convertite, Phrygii!" bawled a voice from the roof near
the tower. "Decepiebamini! Cum potestate diving non jam
contendite!"

"What the

"He's telling them not to -"

"I know what he's telling them, Daniel! Who is this guy?"

"Commodus. Leftover from the Neolithic, as you can tell. Friend
of Sam's."

"Uhuh... Carter's getting kinda sloppy in her choice of
friends."

"What on earth is that idiot telling them, Teal'c?"

Tertius' would-be rescuers had engaged a group of fifteen
Guards and were the only ones still resisting - not counting the
women who did their best to obstruct the opposition in the western
sector of the yard. Tertius stood trapped amid slow death, and the
archers, seconds ago ready to loosen a first volley, had lowered
their bows. The indecision on their faces mutated to dread as they
stared down at Baal.

Arms spread and looking straight at them, the bastard postured
between those red chasms, playing god. His remaining Jaffa
seemed under orders to cover him and to stop the rescuers, but
otherwise not to get involved. Meanwhile more and more Temple
Guards pushed their way through a shell-shocked, cowering crowd
and towards the skirmish around the pits.

"Commodus has told the Phrygians to turn back and cease
to defy the divine power," replied Teal'c. "It would appear that
Professor Kelly's theory is correct."

"Terrific!" Sam got to her feet, cover be damned, and ran over
to the archers. "Baal isn't a god! If you don't fight he'll kill your
people... He'll kill Tertius!"

"He is Baal! He is Ahura-Mazda! He saved us by bringing us
here!" one of the men shouted back.

"And now he -"

Teal'c fired a staff blast at the so-called god, but the discharge
ineffectually fizzed around the protective force-shield Baal was
wearing. If anything, it had succeeded in proving Commodus
right.

"Don't!" she yelled. "Draw the fire from the Jaffa, maybe we can
give Tertius a chance that way! I'll concentrate on the Guards!"

She skidded back behind the parapet, up to her ankles in bird
shit, snapped the selector switch on her gun to single-shot and
started picking off Guards, trying not to kill them. It wasn't those
guys' fault. Seven were down when Teal'c cried out.

"Major Carter!" He was pointing at a tiny figure leading four
more people towards a typically direct solution of Tertius' pit
problem.

"Dammit, sir! No!"

Jack dodged the bright streak of a staff blast, slipped in a trail
of blood, and barely avoided a tumble, bracing himself with one
hand. The trail came from the body of a Phrygian soldier who'd
encountered a Temple Guard. The man's sword was still there, and
he probably wouldn't mind.

Snatching up the weapon, Jack ran on towards the eastern side
of Tertius' pit, Daniel and the three Phrygians close behind him. It
had taken a bit of hollering, but at least they were moving now. Just
as well. Tertius looked dizzy and panicked, and who could blame
him? By the time Jack had got off his perch, temperatures had been
distinctly on the uncomfortable side.

Egged on by shouts from the priests who were flapping on the
tower steps, four Guards decided their colleagues could take care
of Flavius and his men. They pulled out of the engagement on the
inside of the chasm and made for the newly arrived SAR team,
wildly determined to keep at least one sacrificial lamb where it was
supposed to be.

"Come on, Carter!" he growled. "Some cover would help."

Even as he said it, he heard the report from the P90 and the Guard in front stumbled and dropped, his right thigh a bleeding
mess. No way she could have missed the body mass, so she wasn't
shooting to kill. Good. The next moment staff blasts soared up at
the roof, tearing junks of masonry out of the parapet. A brief burst
of return fire, submachine and staff weapon, then it died down.
They were okay. They were changing their positions.

Unfortunately, the Guards didn't care.

"You!" Jack grabbed the sleeve of one of the Phrygians. "Take
one of your pals and keep those clowns entertained. Daniel, you're
with me! Bring the other guy!"

Behind a veil ofheat, the slouching form on the pillar straightened
up again, shaking its head as though to clear it, and you could see
the amount of effort it took. Suddenly Jack doubted whether Tertius
would even be able to make the jump.

"Phrygii!"

Okay, so he would make it. If he could produce a bellow like
that, he could jump that pit and land on his feet on the other side.

"Phrygii! Pater loquens! Decepiebamini per illum!"

Tertius' accusing finger left no doubt as to who had deceived
them. Protected by the force-shield and his Jaffa, Baal posed before
a terrified audience, enjoying a display of how the other half died.

"Deus non est! Est Goa'uld! Audite Phrygii, pater vester
loquens!"

At Tertius' words a roar erupted from the rooftops, and the Jaffa
appeared worried all of a sudden. Maybe they should be.

Phrygians listen, your father speaks!

Dad had proclaimed Baal to be a false god. Question was if the
boys believed dad...

The answer came as a melodic whistle, almost as though the air
itself had started to sing. The entire first volley from Carter and
Teal'c's side of the roof was aimed at Baal. Nine arrows went wide,
one hit some ancient priest in the six as he was scrambling for the
safety of the tower, and five struck home, slow enough to penetrate
the force-shield.

Among the wails of the priests, the Jaffa opened fire at the
archers, which was rewarded by a second volley from the opposite
roof. Two Jaffa literally got it in the neck. The pincushion that was Baal writhed on the ground and reached across the arrows
protruding from its chest and for a bracelet on his right arm. Jack
stopped dead in his tracks. Now. One shove. Nothing left to revive.
Now, before the ring transporter -

And Tertius would die too.

Vengeance is mine...

He dropped the sword, turned away, and dived for the ground at
the rim of the chasm. "Daniel! Weigh me down!"

"Jack, let me -"

"Your shoulders are shot."

Tertius staggered atop his pillar, the motion looking rubbery in
the heat. "I can't -"

"The hell you can't! Trust me!"

A clumsy, uncoordinated heap of Tertius took off and careened
through the air, so low that Jack could barely catch one hand. A
very sweaty, slippery hand. He stretched, desperate to get hold
of Tertius' left, felt himself slide. Behind him whup-whupped the
transporter, and someone's full weight landed on his legs, stopping
the slide and giving his knees an amazing amount of grief. He tuned
it out, concentrated on that exhausted face staring up at him.