A Matter of Honor Read online

  Take Damaris, for example. She was an enigma. She wore her pride like a cloak, letting it catch up in her wake anyone who had failed to notice her power. Yet despite this pride, Daniel sensed an edge of unease in the woman - in all the Kinahhi - an unease that bordered on fear. In all his travels and encounters with new civilizations, Daniel had rarely come across an advanced, democratic society in which the head of state felt the need to be personally armed. His eyes fixed on the very serviceable weapon strapped to the woman's leg. What did she fear?

  The white corridor down which they walked turned a graceful comer and abruptly came to a halt. At the end of the truncated hallway squatted a low desk, manned by a young soldier who jumped up as they approached. Next to the desk stood a metal arch that guarded the entrance to a lofty hall beyond. Through the arch Daniel could see a wide table, with ornate baskets of fruit dotting its length. It had been a long time since breakfast and his stomach growled hungrily, causing Crawford to fling him an exasperated glare. Daniel shrugged an apology and turned his attention to the soldier.

  Young and eager, the soldier saluted, hand on heart, as Councilor Damaris approached the desk. She just nodded to the kid and drifted past, into the room beyond, setting little green lights flitting across the gray arch. She was followed by Councilor Jarel and three other Kinahhi bearing the cautious faces of bureaucrats everywhere. The green arch lights flickered again, as each of them passed through. Crawford was about to follow when the soldier on duty stepped forward and stopped him.

  "One moment," he said, adjusting something on a view-screen in the side of the arch. Daniel peered around to get a better look and the soldier's eyes shot up and narrowed. "Please step back, sir."

  Crawford glared at Daniel. "Get your nose out of there, Jackson." He offered the soldier an apologetic smile. "Is there a problem?"

  Whatever had been bothering the Kinahhi seemed to have been resolved, and he stepped away from the screen. "No, sir. Please proceed."

  With a warning glance at Daniel, Crawford stepped through the arch. Daniel watched the green flickering lights curiously. "Is it some kind of metal detector?" he asked. "Although that wouldn't make much sense, since Councilor Damaris just walked through it with-"

  "Proceed through the sheh fet," the soldier snapped, and when Daniel turned to look at him he saw a genuine agitation on the young man's face.

  Sheh fet? Judgment, in Hebrew. Or very like it. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't meant to interf-"

  "Proceed through the sheh fet!" the soldier insisted, his hand jerking down to where, Daniel had no doubt, his weapon was lurking.

  Holding his hands up carefully he started walking. "Okay, okay. No problem. I'm going."

  He looked up as he walked underneath the arch, but couldn't see any lights. As he entered the vast, white space beyond the checkpoint he glanced once over his shoulder to see the young soldier staring intently at the screen on the low desk.

  He had the sinking feeling that the lights hadn't flashed green for him. Which probably meant trouble.

  Gaping in astonishment, Sam stared in the direction Quadesh was pointing, up into the skies above her head. "Wow." A ship the size of a school bus hovered silently overhead.

  At her side, Teal'c raised an arm to shield his eyes from the sunlight as he too stared at the alien craft. "Its engines make no noise," he observed. "And they emit no jet wash."

  Even the colonel seemed impressed. "Now that's what I call stealth mode."

  "Yes, sir," Sam breathed. An engine that was utterly silent and that didn't even disturb the air as it landed? It brought a whole new meaning to the idea of a stealth fighter, not to mention the potential civilian applications. Of course there was the eternal question of a power source, but if the Kinahhi were willing to share this kind of technology... "Sir," she began excitedly, "if we-"

  "I know, Carter," he said with a quick smile. "Check it out."

  While they were speaking, the craft settled to land on the other side of the plaza and a mechanical ramp was gently extended. "Come," said Quadesh. "I will answer what questions I can on our way to Tsapan."

  Excited by the prospect of getting up close and personal with this new technology, Sam was on Quadesh's heels, following him across the plaza. The ship, like the buildings, was white and blocky. It didn't seem built for either speed or beauty. And it had no windows other than those at the front. Not exactly passenger friendly, but

  "Major Carter?" A hand touched her wrist. It was Quadesh. He had stopped next to the metal archway she'd noticed earlier, and was watching her with an intense scrutiny that was unsettling. "Please, you must pass through the sheh fet before we embark."

  She glanced at the archway. "The sheh fet?"

  "And what would that be? Exactly." The colonel inserted himself between them, imbuing his light tone with just enough threat to cause Quadesh to drop her wrist and back off.

  "It is nothing to fear," the councilor assured them. "We must all pass through. It simply provides a record of our passing."

  O'Neill cast her a glance. "Passport control?"

  "Maybe." She looked up at the metal arch. "More like a security check-point, perhaps?" It wouldn't look out of place at JFK.

  He nodded, eyes moving to Teal'c. "T?"

  "I have encountered no such device before, O'Neill." Which was a guarded way of saying it didn't look like something the Goa'uld had cooked up. Sam agreed. Whatever it did, this technology was native to the Kinahhi.

  The colonel squared his shoulders and stepped forward. He would go through first, of course. She wondered if he was even conscious of these subtle acts of bravery, or if they were so ingrained into who he was that they were as natural to him as breathing. Either way, she noticed. Always had. "Do I have to switch off my cell phone and take off my shoes?"

  Sam hid her smile as Quadesh stared at him, glanced down at the big, heavy boots, and said, "That is not required, Colonel O'Neill."

  "Lucky for us all," he beamed, overflowing with false jollity. "After you, Councilor."

  With a compliant nod of the head, Quadesh moved to the far side of the arch. There must have been a control panel there, because Sam could hear the soft beeps and burbles of technology before he stepped back out into view. "Please," he invited. "Follow me."

  In two steps he was through. The colonel nudged her arm and nodded toward the top of the arch. Green lights were running across, like tracer fire. After a moment they disappeared. His eyebrows rose. What do you make of that?

  "Green for go?" she guessed aloud.

  As she was talking, she watched Quadesh move once more to the side of the arch - sheh fet, he had called it - and touch the controls. The colonel shifted and didn't seem convinced by her guess. In fact, he looked downright uneasy. "Stay sharp," he muttered under his breath.

  His tension was contagious, and she found herself lifting her weapon into her hands. She kept it neutral, but the familiar weight was comforting.

  Then, with a final glance up at the arch, O'Neill took two steps through it.

  There were no sirens. No alarms. Nothing happened. However, this time the running lights glowed blue. Blue for what? Through the arch the colonel was watching her carefully. All she could do was shrug. If the color was significant, she didn't know why.

  Without further hesitation, she and Teal'c stepped through the arch to join him. Again, nothing happened but a swift display of blue lights.

  After a moment, Quadesh appeared from the side of the sheh fet. Beneath his dusky skin, Sam thought she could detect a hint of pal lor. And there was a definite sheen of sweat on his forehead that belied the cool air in the plaza. The tension ratcheted up a notch. "Everything okay?" she asked.

  "Of course," came the reply. It was altogether too fast and too pat. "Let us proceed."

  She cast a quick glance at the colonel to see if he'd caught the lie. His slight nod, telling her to keep digging, was all the answer she needed. "How does it work?" she asked mildly. "You said it records our passing. Is i
t a scanner? Is it connected to a central database or-

  "Please!" Quadesh held up a hand. It was trembling slightly beneath his long robes. "I cannot answer your questions. It is forbidden."

  "I'm sorry," Sam said, immediately backtracking. The old adage about flies, honey and vinegar invariably paid off. It wouldn't pay to anger these people. "I didn't mean to embarrass you." She paused for a moment and saw a little of the tension ease from the councilor's face. Just a little. He still looked spooked.

  "Come," he said, obviously making an effort to collect himself. "Let us embark." With a gracious gesture, he waved them up the ramp and into the Kinahhi aircraft.

  Sam moved off silently, catching O'Neill's eye as she did so. "Curiouser and curiouser," he muttered quietly. She had to agree.

  The inside of the ship was a surprise. No hard military benches or cramped airline seats here. Instead, deep, cushioned chairs in the Kinahhi's preferred color of white were grouped together, positioned next to floor to ceiling windows. Very urban chic.

  O'Neill sat, settled his weapon more comfortably and glanced around. "Someone's been to Ikea."

  She smiled at that, and at Teal'c's bemused expression as he came to look out of the picture window. "I did not see any windows on the outside of the ship."

  "Must be some kind of one-way glass," Sam guessed.

  Teal'c nodded and tapped it lightly with his finger. "It appears to be strong."

  "It is an alloy," Quadesh informed them as the ramp hissed back inside the ship and the doors quietly closed. "Very strong. It can withstand the blast of a ground-launched projectile."

  O'Neill's eyebrows rose. "And that's a common problem on your airlines?"

  Not quite understanding the idiom, Quadesh simply said, "There are those who would do our people harm. It is against them that we struggle."

  "Yeah." The colonel glanced away and out over the shining white city. "We kinda have a similar problem."

  The Kinahhi smiled, his momentary discomfort either gone or effectively hidden. "Then perhaps our peoples will indeed become allies? We have much in common."

  Sam returned his smile, although it felt forced. His amber eyes were like mirrors, reflecting herself back and giving away nothing. Uncomfortable, she looked away and out of the window. To her astonishment, the plaza was slowly receding beneath her; she hadn't even known they were moving. It really was quite a remarkable technology, and her excitement returned in force. "So tell me," she asked Quadesh, "how is this thing powered? How does it fly without aerodynamic lift?"

  "Aerodynamic lift." Quadesh repeated the words with a nostalgic laugh and smiled again, that same mirror-like smile. "That then is how your own transports fly?"

  "Yeah," she agreed, shifting awkwardly under his lightly patronizing gaze. "I guess that seems a little old-fashioned to you."

  "A little. It is a very power-intensive method of transport, is it not?" Sam nodded her agreement, but held her tongue as Quadesh continued. "Here on Kinahhi we use a quite different technology, one that allows us to negate the force of gravity within a defined area. Thus our transports `fly,' although not in the manner of a bird. It would be more accurate to say that they float."

  Sam felt her eyes widen as she processed the information. "Antigravity technology? Wow, that's- That's way ahead of us. I'd love to see-"

  "It negates the force of gravity?" The interruption had come from the unlikely source of the colonel. "As in... makes it go away? Nullifies it?"

  "Within the defined area, yes," Quadesh replied. "We are, in effect, sitting atop a bubble of negative gravity."

  Sam was about to speak again, but the colonel beat her to it. "How big?" he asked abruptly. "How big can the bubble get?"

  Quadesh smiled, his eyes darkening. "I have told you more than, perhaps, is wise. The negotiations between our leaders will cover such issues of technology. I cannot give away our secrets, Colonel."

  It was only because Sam was watching him that she noticed the frown of irritation flicker across O'Neill's face as he nodded brusquely and said, "Right." His eyes met hers for an instant, something surreptitious hiding in their depths. Without doubt there was a purpose to the colonel's interest. But what that might be, she had absolutely no idea.

  CHAPTER THREE

  kay, let me get this straight." Daniel spread his hands wide on the smooth, translucent surface of the table. "The sheh fet reads minds?"

  His words echoed around the white room before fleeing through the long, slit windows that sliced through the far wall, striping the floor with golden fingers ofpale sunlight. Opposite him the Security Council sucked in a collective breath; seven straight-laced Kinahhi staring at him through suspicious eyes. Either his question or his tone had caused offense, it seemed. Their leader, the inscrutable Councilor Damaris, fixed him with a steady gaze. A hard woman, Daniel thought, as she blinked colorless eyes at him and her lips tipped up toward a thin smile. A hard, determined woman. She would give no ground. "That is too simplistic an interpretation, Doctor Jackson. The sheh Yet cannot `read minds'. It simply measures physiological responses and determines the likely threat level posed by the individual being scanned."

  The hairs crept up on the back of his neck, like moral fibers in revolt. "So even if they haven't done anything wrong, they're defined as a threat?"

  Damaris nodded slightly, her smile fading. "A potential threat."

  She didn't seem to appreciate the questions, and at his side he sensed Crawford shift uncomfortably. He probably didn't appreciate the questions either. Too bad. "And if someone is identified as a 'potential' threat? What happens then?"

  Her lips pressed into a tight line, shoulders stiffening. "They are removed, Doctor Jackson. Surely the Tauri also remove those inimical to your society?"

  "Well yes, but not before they're proven to have committed a cri-"

  "We do indeed, Councilor Damaris," Crawford smoothly interjected, casting Daniel a flat stare that spoke silent volumes of outrage. "However, less efficiently than the Kinahhi."

  "Efficiently?" Daniel glanced between Crawford and the Kinahhi woman, alarm rising. "How? Exactly."

  The councilor's demeanor chilled. "Our methods," she told him, "are not part of these negotiations. You have asked for access to the sheh fet technology, which we are willing to share in exchange for access to a number of resources on your planet."

  Stunned, Daniel turned to Crawford. "So this is what Kinsey wants? This is why you're here? For their Big Brother equipment? This isn't going to protect Earth against Anubis or-"

  "The security of the United States is of paramount concern to the Senator," Crawford snapped, jutting out his chin and endeavoring to look down his nose at Daniel. Not an easy task, given his height.

  "What? He's going to install checkpoints on our street comers?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "This is... this is insane!"

  "The Senator believes that this technology will protect us from those unfriendly to our country and-"

  "-get him into the White House?"

  "The Senator's concern is for the security of the-"

  "Don't you get it?" Hands slicing the air with frustration, Daniel tried to make him understand. "We can't waste time with this stuff! There are more important things at stake. We shouldn't be wasting our resources-

  "That's rich coming from you, Doctor Jackson," Crawford snapped. "SG-1 has turned its back on countless military technologies - mostly, I might add, at your urging - on spurious moral grounds. This technology will guarantee the security of our nation."

  "Arresting people before they commit a crime? Have you actually read the Constitution, Crawford? We can't-"

  The subtle noise of chairs scraping over the opalescent floor drew his attention back to the Kinahhi representatives. All were now on their feet and as he and Crawford fell quiet the room descended into a disapproving silence. At last Damaris spoke, her voice heavy with disdain. "If the Tauri no longer wish to trade technology we must ask that you leave our world and-"
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  "No!" Crawford shot to his feet like a child threatened with curfew. "No. My apologies, Councilors. Doctor Jackson has no authority to speak on this matter." He turned, face taut with anger, to where Daniel sat, arms folded stubbornly across his chest. "In fact, he was just leaving."

  "I don't think-"

  Crawford was abruptly in his face. "Leave now, or you'll be lucky to get a job teaching first grade in Alaska."

  Jaw set, Daniel glared back. "Are you threatening me?"

  "No," Crawford replied with a small shake of the head, "I'm telling you, Jackson. For the record."

  Daniel held his gaze for a long moment, weighing his decision. Crawford didn't give an inch and Daniel had no doubt he'd make good on his threat. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Jack's warning voice, Not now, Daniel. For once, he listened to it. Slowly standing up, he got a marginally gratifying satisfaction from being able to look down on his rival. "This is a mistake," he warned. "For the record."

  With that he nodded to the Security Council and strode toward the exit, wincing as Crawford's obsequious words trailed after him. "My apologies Councilors - there are some among our people who do not fully appreciate what you are offering."

  Damaris replied, sharp as cut glass. "As there were among the Kinahhi. At first."

  At first? Daniel felt his skin crawl. What the hell did that mean?

  The ocean was blue and beautiful under huge skies striated with clouds cast in purples and pinks. From where Jack stood atop a barren cliff he could hear the crash and roar of the waves below and thought, for a moment, that there was almost enough beauty in the galaxy to compensate for all the ugliness it threw at you. Almost.

  But it wasn't just the natural wonder of the ocean that caught his eye, and gradually he found himself gazing at the gem-like glitter of Tsapan - the ocean city. Even to his jaded eyes it was breathtaking. Floating above the waves the vast citadel shone and sparkled in the sunlight, its smooth surface punctuated by pinnacles and turrets, its walls a shimmering rainbow of colors.