Hostile Ground Part 25

Makepeace s.h.i.+fted on his feet, scratched at his jaw. "Colonel Maybourne's off-world base, sir."

"No." Angry, Hammond got up from his desk and paced to the other side of his office. Through the window, he gazed out past the briefing room toward the Stargate and Janet watched the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders as he struggled to rein in his temper. "That man is why we're here, Colonel," he said at last. "His greed, his paranoia and lack of faith in our allies - that's why we've found ourselves friendless in a hostile galaxy. And I won't let him -"

He broke off, chewing on his words, and Janet could almost hear his inner conflict. To accept help from Maybourne's shadow operation, the very people who'd brought this disaster down upon them, left a bitter taste indeed. But... "General," she said quietly, "do we have a choice?"

He turned on her, leveling an angry finger. "That base, doctor, represents everything which I oppose - on a military, moral, and personal level. If we evacuate there, then G.o.d help us."

"It doesn't mean we have to become like them, sir," she said. "Maybourne won't be in command."

"Won't he? Do you think he'd give us the address on any other terms?"

"Sir, we'd be evacuating the President and the Joint Chiefs - not even Maybourne has that much chutzpah."

"Don't count on it, doctor," Hammond said darkly.

Silence fell again and Janet felt a cold, sinking sensation. The general was making a mistake, he was letting his anger get in the way of the only pragmatic choice, and she didn't know how to change his mind.

"For what it's worth, General," Makepeace said, "I think we have to go with Maybourne's base. At this point, it's our only option."

Hammond continued to glare out at the Stargate and Makepeace watched him with a forbidding, unreadable expression on his face. Carved out of stone, that man, Janet thought. It wasn't really fair to compare him to Colonel O'Neill, because O'Neill was a one-off, but nevertheless the contrast was stark. There was a hardness about Makepeace that she didn't like. He was too austere, too bleak, unable to see hope in dark places and, given their current circ.u.mstances, they could do with a dose of O'Neill's spirited optimism rather than Makepeace's grim practicality. But on this point, at least, Makepeace was right - and Colonel O'Neill, had he been there, would probably have backed him up.

"Sir, I think Colonel Makepeace is right. Distasteful as it is, it's our only choice."

Hammond was silent for a moment. "And what if Maybourne won't give us the address?"

"He will if it's his only way off the planet."

"General, let me bring him in," Makepeace said, his voice thick with anger. "As soon as we get the address we can start the evacuation - we can save lives, sir."

Hammond didn't turn around, but she could see him struggling with the decision as he ran a hand over his jaw, shaking his head. He had no choice, not really, but Janet knew this must feel like defeat - after all the times he'd fought for the integrity of Stargate Command, he was being forced to accept that Maybourne's shady operation was the best hope for saving their people. The very outfit that had brought about this catastrophe was going to claim to be their saviors. Her own disgust was visceral.

With a heavy sigh, Hammond turned around and she felt heartsick at the bleak look he directed at Makepeace. "I suppose you know just where to find him, do you, Colonel?"

It was an odd question, but it made Makepeace flinch. His hard features grew harsher, his skin grayer. He swallowed. Janet watched his Adams apple bob up and down. "I can find him, sir," he said stiffly. "Let me bring the b.a.s.t.a.r.d in."

For a long beat the two men just stared at each other, locked in silent communication, and then Hammond gave a slight nod. "Do it," he said in a leaden voice. "And make it fast, the attack could start at any moment."

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir."

"We'll lock down the mountain in two hours," Hammond added. "Make sure you're back."

"Count on it, sir." And with a curt nod to Janet, Makepeace was gone.

She watched him stride across the briefing room, running down the stairs, and let the echo of his footsteps fade before she stood up and moved to stand next to General Hammond. He'd turned back to his contemplation of the Stargate and as she joined him she could just glimpse its arc through the briefing room window - still hopeful, even now.

"Do you think they'll come back, sir?"

He gave a slight smile, but didn't look away from the Stargate. "SG-1 always comes back."

She nodded. "What about you, General? Will you take command of the alpha site?"

"No. My place is here." Folding his arms behind his back at perfect parade ground rest, he straightened his shoulders and looked exactly as he always looked during the long wait for his people to come home. "I'll keep a light on for SG-1," he said, "even if I have to die trying."

Janet nodded because that's exactly what she'd expected to hear. Turning her eyes back to the Stargate, emotion tightened her throat as she said, "With permission, sir, I'd like to stay too."

"Doctor -"

"SG-1 are coming back, General, and I want to be here to see it."

"To welcome them home?"

She threw him a sideways glance. "To kick their a.s.ses for being so d.a.m.n late, sir."

It was quiet in the camp, and dark. The moonless, starless sky hung black and featureless overhead and the fires of earlier in the evening had burned low despite the cold. The sounds of s.h.i.+fting, shuffling humanity were all around, the distant cry of an infant quickly hushed, the soundscape of sleep. But no one was out; there was no movement, no campfire discussions, no laughter. Everything spoke of fear and of hiding from the monsters under the bed.

Except here the monsters were real.

She'd been dreaming of it - the creature's hand stabbing into her chest, its bared teeth inches from her face - when Daniel had woken her for her watch, his concerned face half hidden by shadows cast up by the dying fire. And even now she could feel the burning on her chest that should have meant her death, that would have meant her death if it hadn't been for Jolinar. How strange, she thought, that that nightmare had protected her from this one.

She sat outside now, her sleeping bag wrapped around her shoulders against the biting cold, and looked up at the Amam's s.h.i.+p. It was almost the only thing she could see in the black night, an eerie light seeping from where it squatted on the skirts of the mountain. But as vile as it was, Sam was drawn to the mystery it represented. These creatures were like nothing they'd ever encountered, their weapons and their technology were completely new and she itched to take one of the stun guns apart and figure out how it worked. It was the organic component, of course, that made it so different from any of the technology she'd encountered before. She was hopeful that Janet would be able to help her figure out the biological and technological interface because, if she could do that, then who knew what kind of uses it could be put to? Not only in weapons technology but potentially in medical - "Carter?" The colonel's gravelly voice rose from somewhere inside his sleeping bag. "You were meant to wake me for my watch fifteen minutes ago."

She glanced at her watch and realized he was right. "Sorry, sir, I lost track of time."

"You lost track of time?" he said, sitting up and scratching his hand through his hair. "Sitting in the dark, freezing your a.s.s off, you lost track of time?"

She smiled and hitched her sleeping bag up around her shoulders again. "I was thinking."

"Oh, well, in that case..." he said and then s.h.i.+vered. "d.a.m.n, it's cold."

"Yes sir."

It was too dark to see his face, but she heard him yawning, fidgeting and rustling around in his sleeping bag. "Sir," she said, "I don't want - That is, I don't think I'll get back to sleep again tonight, so if you want to grab some more shut-eye I'll take your watch."

He stopped moving. And the thing she'd learned early on about Colonel O'Neill was that when he went still you were in trouble; it meant he was paying too much attention.

"Bad dreams?" he said.

She sighed because there was no point in denying it. "A few, yes sir."

There was more shuffling around and a moment later he came to sit next to her, his sleeping bag draped over his shoulders too, and close enough that she could see the hard lines and shadows of his face even beneath the bill of his cap. "You want to talk about it?"

"What's to say? It tried to kill me, it failed."

"And then you kicked its b.u.t.t."

She gave a faint smile. "That was just luck," she said. "I think it's because of Jolinar, sir. I think it might have to do with the naquadah in my blood."

The colonel gave a soft laugh. "So you're indigestible, huh?"

"Maybe."

"And according to Crazy I'm a 'lantern'," he said with a sigh. "Carter, is it me or is this one of the freakier places we've ended up?"

"It certainly ranks in the top ten, sir."

"Oh, at least."

"Not as weird as PJ2-445, though," she said. "Remember the singing plant people... ?"

"How could I forget? This is scarier, though."

That went without saying and her gaze drifted back to the sickly light of the Amam s.h.i.+p.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Hmm?"

He nodded towards her and, looking down, she realized she held her hand to her chest, as if rubbing away a phantom sensation.

"Oh, no, not much." She gave a rueful smile and tapped her head. "Up here, mostly, I think."

"It's been a tough few days."

"A tough few months," she snorted, and then winced because she hadn't meant to sound so bitter. "Uh, I just meant -"

"I know what you meant," he said, staring out into the darkness.

Not sure what to say next, Sam opted for saying nothing and the awkward silence between them grew deeper. High overhead she thought she heard a thin whine, but when she glanced up she saw nothing but night.

"Listen, Carter, I know I've been acting like an a.s.s since I got back from Edora and I -"

"Sir, it's fine," she said, cutting him off. She really didn't need to hear his reasons.

"No," he said, "it's not fine."

"Sir, I understand why you had mixed feelings about coming home. It must have been a wrench."

He shook his head. "That's not it. Well, maybe. Maybe some of it, but -"

"Colonel, I -" From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw movement - a flicker in the darkness - and glanced over to her right. But there was nothing there, only shadows.

"Carter?"

"Sorry, sir," she said. "I thought I saw something."

He followed her line of sight. "Over there?"

"It's nothing."

"No," he agreed after a moment. "No, I don't see anything either." His attention returned to her and he said, "Look, Carter, I just wanted to say thank you for getting me home. I know how hard you worked and I -" He trailed off. "I might not have appeared grateful, but I was. I am."

"You weren't," she said, feeling a rise of anger and looking back out into the camp, trying to tamp it down. "I know you weren't happy to leave."

"That's not true."

"Oh come on, sir, you've been -" She broke off, searching for some politick language. "You've obviously been out of sorts since you got back and, well, it's pretty clear why."

"Carter, it's not what you think." He sighed, sounding frustrated. "There's a lot more going on here than you know about."

She looked at him, feeling a new pulse of anxiety. "What do you mean? What's going on, sir?"

He blew out a long breath, considering his answer. For a while he said nothing, but she could see the frown furrowing his forehead and knew that, whatever this was, it was serious. Eventually, and in a low voice, he said, "Something's wrong - at home."

Her heart rate kicked up a notch. "At home?"

"I can't - I'm under orders - not to tell you about it. I shouldn't even have said that much, but given our current situation..."

A new fear struck her, nebulous and uncertain, but even more terrifying than the Amam. "Sir, is it the SGC? What -?"

"I can't tell you," he warned. "Swear to G.o.d, I wish I could. You'll just have to trust me, Carter, when I say we really need to get home fast -" He broke off suddenly, eyes darting past her shoulder. "What was that?"

Turning, she saw it too, a flicker of movement in the shadows, the same as before. Something there, then gone again. A sliver of cold ran up her spine. "I saw it." Slipping the sleeping bag from her shoulders, she grabbed her weapon and rose slowly to her feet.

Behind her, the colonel did the same. "Easy," he murmured, "there are people behind every d.a.m.n wall."

"Yes sir."

Something else moved, like a shadow within a shadow. She shook her head and blinked. It didn't feel real, somehow, everything felt skewed.

"I don't like this," the colonel said.

"No sir."

Then a sudden shaft of familiar white light shot down from the sky a couple hundred meters to their left, followed by two more, even closer. Something whined overhead, the backdraft rattling the camp. The colonel followed it with the nose of his weapon, but didn't fire. "Fighter," he said.

And suddenly there was screaming and running feet coming their way. Panic in the dark.

"Uh-oh," the colonel said, backing up closer to Hunter's shack.

"It's the Amam," Sam realized. "They've come to feed."

"Convenient," he growled.

She darted him a look. "What do you mean?"

"Crazy said he could trace me." There was a cold kind of self-recrimination in his voice. "I've brought them right here."

"Sir, you don't know that."