A Matter of Honor Read online

  No sooner had he stepped into the square than O'Neill broke off his conversation and looked up. His eyes were unforgiving and Crawford met the stare head-on; no one bullied Bill Crawford. Slowly, O'Neill rose to his feet and wiped a hand across his mouth. "So, did you get Kinsey's little mind reading device?"

  Scowling, Crawford glanced over at Jackson who met his look with a shrug. Returning his attention to O'Neill, he trod carefully. "The negotiations are still on-going, Colonel."

  "I bet they are." Then, to Crawford's surprise, the man stepped closer and thrust his hands into his pockets. "You know," he said, forcing a conciliatory tone, "these people have other technologies. Better ones."

  "I think it's for the Senate Committee to-"

  "Ah!" O'Neill cut him off with a swift hand gesture. "Just listen, will you?"

  Lips pursed, he listened.

  "They have this anti-gravity device. It's impressive. The military and civilian applications would be huge."

  Despite himself, his interest was piqued. Not only would this be another juicy bone to set at the Senator's feet, but it was clear that O'Neill was interested. And that was something he could use, that was leverage. "What kind of applications?" At his side he felt, rather than saw, Damaris stiffen.

  "Think stealth aircraft. Think-"

  "I am sorry, but that is not possible." The councilor stepped carefully between them. "Only the sheh fet technology is under negotiation."

  "I'm not interested in that," O'Neill said with a wave of his hand. "But this, though, this we could use. This we could-"

  "It is out of the question."

  "We could use it to help people, to-"

  "It is nonnegotiable."

  O'Neill glared off into the middle distance, teeth clenched. He was trying to hide it, but his disappointment was obvious. "And why is that?"

  Damaris's expression was all ice, dripping hauteur. "I have no need to explain myself, Colonel O'Neill."

  "Don't you?" he snapped. "I think it's kinda strange that you people are willing to trade us some useless piece of spying-"

  "Enough!" The last thing Crawford needed was O'Neill screwing up a whole day's worth of trust-building. "Back off, Colonel."

  "Don't you tell me-"

  "O'Neill!" Teal'c appeared, one hand resting on the colonel's shoul der, his eyes fixed with a baleful look on Crawford. He had to struggle to hold that dangerous glare, but hold it he did. Never back down, his father had wisely advised. He never had. Angrily, O'Neill shook his arm free and spun away.

  "This is bull," he growled as he stalked across the courtyard and into one of the rooms that lined the plaza, slamming the door and sending echoes ricocheting off every wall. Teal'c exchanged a wary glance with Carter, who was on her feet now, her gaze flitting between her friends and the slammed door. She shrugged nervously as Jackson closed his book with a dull thud and pressed his lips together into a worried line. Obviously O'Neill's behavior was unusual, even by his maverick standards - he wanted that technology, badly. The question was, why? Crawford stored the information away for later dissection and returned his attention to Damaris.

  "My apologies," he murmured. "I shall contact my superiors about this incident as soon as possible."

  The councilor's eyes were still fixed on O'Neill's closed door, a speculative look fluttering across her face before she turned her careful gaze back to Crawford. "There is much dissent among your people," she observed. "It is fortunate that you have come to Kinahhi."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  aniel watched as Bill Crawford walked across the courtyard and disappeared into his own little bedroom - or was it a cell? In the Kinahhi security state there seemed to be little difference.

  A soft sigh escaped Sam's lips.

  "Well, that was interesting," Daniel observed to no one in particular. "What did I miss?"

  She shook her head. "I don't know."

  "O'Neill has demonstrated an unusual interest in the Kinahhi technology since our viewing of the floating city," Teal'c observed.

  Floating city? Daniel's eyebrows climbed as his mind sketched an image of drunken buildings sloshing backward and forward at the mercy of the ocean waves. He felt queasy just thinking about it. "What is it? Like a giant ship?"

  Teal'c shook his head. "Floating above the waves, Daniel Jackson. The Kinahhi gravitational technology is undoubtedly impressive."

  Daniel was vividly reminded of the Nox - he'd have given almost anything to be able to take a look around their floating city.

  "Actually, it's Goa'uld technology," Sam said, easing herself back to the ground and sliding O'Neill's half-eaten meal to one side. "At least, according to Quadesh."

  Instantly interested, Daniel folded his legs under himself and sat down next to her. "That fits," he said, reaching out to snag the M&Ms from the MRE pouch. He doubted Jack would miss them. "I was talking to a soldier earlier. He mentioned a group of dissidents who worship `old gods. "'

  Sam looked startled. "A Goa'uld? I haven't sensed anything. Teal'c, have you?"

  "I have not."

  "I'm pretty sure it's just a myth at this point." Daniel dug out a red M&M and popped it into his mouth. "The kid was quite atheistic. In fact, the whole Kinahhi society seems entirely secular. Which might explain why a disaffected minority would choose a defunct belief system as a rallying point. In a secular state, religion is radicalized."

  Sam gazed at him, face blank.

  "In other words, it's a handy tag. A way of defining your opposition to the establishment. It doesn't mean we've got a Goa'uld on our hands." He shrugged and rummaged around for another red M&M. "Besides, if we did, I doubt he'd be running the resistance."

  "Daniel Jackson is correct," Teal'c agreed. "Were a Goa'uld present on Kinahhi, he would seek domination through overt means. And did not Councilor Quadesh tell us that the Goa'uld city had been long abandoned?"

  "Yeah," Sam nodded. "From the technological progress the Kinahhi have made since then, it must have been several generations ago."

  Daniel grinned. "Exactly!" It was fascinating how societies separated by distances too vast to comprehend could react so universally to the same problems. Humanity, it seemed, was one of the galaxy's constants. "Rapid technological advancement is a classic cause of religious revivals. I mean, you only have to think of the industrial revolution, which provoked a revivalist movement across the entire globe, to understand that-" Sam shifted and glanced at Teal'c. His eyes were glazed, as if he was about to retreat to a different place. Daniel reined in his excitement, cleared his throat, and made a mental note to jot down a few points in his journal that evening. "So," he asked, changing the subject, "who built the floating city?"

  "I'm not sure," said Sam, brightening. "Actually, you probably know. Quadesh said the city was called Tsapan and it was built by someone called Re'ammin the Thunderer." She glanced over at Teal'c. "Right?"

  "You are correct," Teal'c agreed. "That name is familiar to me."

  It was familiar to Daniel too. He froze, red M&M halfway to his mouth, as a fist of fear curled around his lungs and squeezed. Tsapan. Re'ammin. Kinahhi. Oh crap, I should have seen this coming.

  "Daniel?" Sam was instantly wary. "What is it? Do you recognize the name?"

  He nodded and set the candies down. He had to swallow the suddenly cloying sweetness in his throat before he could say, "Re' ammin the Thunder is an epithet of-" He felt sick.

  "Daniel!"

  "Of Baal," he finished hurriedly. "It's a Canaanite epithet of Baal. Damn it, I should have known. Kinahhi literally means Canaan - it's an old Hebrew name. And Baal was the Canaanites' chief deity."

  Sam's eyes went as wide as saucers and even Teal'c's usually impassive face fractured into a momentary picture of alarm. "We must tell O'Neill," he said immediately and took half a step toward Jack's quarters.

  "No, wait." Sam was on her feet, a hand on his arm. She glanced down at Daniel and back at Teal'c. "There's no sign that he's here, right? No sign any Goa'uld has been here
in generations."

  Teal'c inclined his head in agreement, but his eyes were unconvinced.

  "We all know what he-" Her fingers tightened on Teal'c's arm, knuckles turning white. "We can only imagine what Baal did to Colonel O'Neill. Janet said he must have died. Several times. He'd been in the Sarcophagus so often..."

  Daniel looked away, unable to meet her gaze. He didn't have to imagine how Jack had suffered at the hands of that monster - he could remember every moment, in vivid Technicolor detail. The stubborn grunts of pain, his refusal to scream - at first. The cursing and obscene animal howls ripped from a man on the edge of sanity. But holding on, always holding on and never, ever giving up. Not even at the end when the wheezing breaths of escaping life faded into deathly silence. Until it started again. And again. And again... And Jack wouldn't let go. He wouldn't damn well let go!

  His stomach rolled. "Sam's right," he said huskily. "He doesn't have to know."

  Teal'c turned and crouched next to Daniel, laying his staffweapon carefully on the ground. "I do not believe O'Neill would appreciate this attempt to spare his feelings."

  "I know," Daniel agreed. "He doesn't always know what's good for him."

  Also sitting again, Sam nodded. "I don't buy all that way of the warrior crap, Teal'c. I don't care what he says, you can't go through that much trauma without being effected. Who knows how he'd react if we told him?"

  Teal'c raised a curious eyebrow. "Perhaps you do not understand O'Neill as well as you suppose."

  "And you do?"

  "In many ways O'Neill and I are as brothers," Teal'c replied. "Keeping this information from him undermines his position as our commanding officer."

  Daniel grimaced and saw Sam's jaw tighten; that was a difficult blow for the major to parry. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe Teal'c's right. If Jack found out we didn't tell him-"

  "No." Sam was adamant. "You didn't see him when he came through the `gate. His eyes, Daniel. He looked-"

  Like a man barely aware of his own humanity? Broken? Tortured? Shattered? He'd been there, seen him break, seen him shatter. Not that she needed to know that. He stared down at the discarded packet of M&Ms. They looked too bright against the white floor. Of all his missing memories, why the hell couldn't this one have remained lost? "I can imagine," he mumbled eventually.

  "If there was even a hint of a threat I'd agree with you, Teal'c," Sam pressed. "But there isn't. It's just an accident of history."

  "Perhaps," Teal'c conceded. "What of the dissidents and their worship of `old gods'?"

  "You said it yourself, Teal'c. If Baal was here, he wouldn't be skulking around with fanatics. He's powerful - he wouldn't need to. This is just a coincidence."

  Teal'c considered the point, head cocked to one side. "I have found that in life there are few true coincidences, Major Carter." Picking up his staff weapon he rose to his feet. "For now, I will do as you ask."

  Daniel nodded his gratitude, although his feelings were still mixed. "If the situation changes..."

  "We had better hope that is does not."

  As Teal'c strode to the other end of the courtyard, Daniel heard Sam sigh. A taut expression touched her face, half-uncertainty and half-relief Keeping secrets from her commanding officer wasn't something Sam Carter did lightly. "He'd do the same for us," he reminded her softly.

  She nodded, but her disquiet didn't abate. "It's his command, he's allowed to."

  "You could still tell him."

  "No. It's better this way." She cast him a quick, regretful smile. "It's a moot point, anyway. The Kinahhi won't let us set foot on Tsapan."

  The obvious frustration in her voice provoked a smile of his own, rising like hope through his bitter memories. "I'd pay top dollar for half an hour there. Tsapan! The site of the defeat of Yahm. It's a myth. It's like... it would be like finding the lost Ark!" He stretched out a hand. "It's right there, if only I could just reach it."

  Sam laughed softly. "Bad luck this time, Indiana."

  "Yeah," he smiled. "Isn't it always?"

  His grin slowly faded as the moment between them lengthened into a companionable silence. Reaching down he picked up the packet of M&Ms and offered one to Sam, who refused, before tucking them back into Jack's MRE pouch. As his thoughts returned to Jack, Daniel's eyes rose to the door his friend had slammed on Crawford half an hour ago. Someone should probably go interrupt his brooding.

  "So," said Sam, her gaze following his, "wanna draw straws?"

  Jack paced the cell-like room, forcing himself not to kick out against the few pieces of metal furniture as he tried to figure out why he was so mad. Yes, Crawfish was a slimy toad with an agenda he'd pulled from Kinsey's ass, but he'd dealt with these people before. Hell, he'd been dealing with them for years! So why was the little worm pissing him off so much?

  "What happened to `nobody gets left behind'? "

  Cromwell glanced over his shoulder at the frozen image of Henry Boyd 's terror. "Well, what about him?"

  "That's an entirely different scenario. "

  "That is the exact same damn thing, Jack. "

  The image pummeled into his mind and he cursed. "Let it go," he muttered to himself, slowing to a halt in front of the white wall. "Move on." He pressed his hands against the cold stone, smooth beneath his fingers, and let his forehead rest there too. But Heather Boyd's face, sorrowful and accusing, still haunted him.

  "I'm sorry, Heather; I wish there was more I could do. "

  "Do you? "

  He let his head and hands take his weight, pushing against the unrelenting stone. Did he? Wasn't there more he could have done in the five years since it had happened? Couldn't he have done something? He remembered, vaguely, a late night conversation with Carter about black holes and the irrevocable laws of physics. He'd sensed her guilt too - she was the brains, after all. But even Carter hadn't been able to figure this one out, and if she couldn't

  There was a knock at the door. He sighed. "I'm busy."

  After a short pause the door opened and he groaned softly to himself. This could only be one person. "Daniel, you speak twenty-three languages. What part of `I'm busy' don't you understand?"

  "Oh, I don't know," Daniel replied mildly, his footsteps moving from the door to the bed where he sat down. "The bit where you're so busy bawling out Crawford that you forget we're off world and the guests of-"

  "Daniel..." He turned around, resting his back against the wall. "I didn't forget we're off-world."

  Nodding slowly, Daniel said, "So... what happened?"

  "Nothing happened."

  Daniel's eyebrows rose in that I-don't-believe-a-word-of-it way he had. "Nothing?"

  "Look, he pisses me off. Okay?"

  Daniel shrugged. "He pisses me off, too. But you can't just go around yelling at heads of state and-"

  "I didn't!"

  Daniel cleared his throat and shifted on the bed, changing the subject but not admitting defeat. "What's so important about the anti-gravity technology anyway?"

  Jack met his friend's shrewd gaze for a moment before looking away. "Nothing."

  "Jack..."

  "It's nothing!" The moment hung there until Daniel's silence eventually forced him to say more. "Okay, okay. I was just thinking about the memorial."

  The surprise that crossed Daniel's face was swiftly followed by understanding. "Henry Boyd."

  Jack nodded. "I thought maybe there was a way that Carter could MacGyver something to, you know, bring him home."

  He smiled at that. "Have you asked her?"

  "Not much point, is there? All Kinsey wants are his fancy mind readers."

  Daniel sighed, his face darkening. He pulled his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thought police. Literally. Arresting people for potentially committing a crime."

  "Didn't I see a movie about that?" Jack frowned. "I seem to remember little wooden balls..."

  "Ask Teal'c. He's the sci-fi fan." Daniel sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Point is, aside from the fac
t that it's utterly useless in protecting us from the Goa'uld, think about how Kinsey's going to use it."

  "I know." It had nightmare written all over it. "They have some kind of terrorist situation here. Quadesh was pretty vague, but I get the impression all in the Kinahhi garden isn't rosy."

  "Yeah," Daniel agreed. "Dissidents. Apparently they wiped out one of the Kinahhi's off-world colonies with a biological attack fifty years ago."

  "Nice people."

  Daniel grunted. "Nothing like a little internal dissent to breed paranoia and pump up the security state, huh?"

  Biting his tongue - it was too late for one of those discussions - Jack nudged the conversation in a more useful direction. "You know what they're fighting over?"

  Daniel sighed and glanced up with a decidedly troubled look. "Religion."

  "Religion?"

  He grimaced, as if he were to blame for the news. "Apparently the dissidents still worship the old god."

  "Daniel? Are we talking about a Goa'uld?"

  He looked away, squinting uncomfortably out of the small window into the plaza beyond. "Yes, but long gone." Eyebrows bunching in the middle of his forehead, he cleared his throat. "There's absolutely no sign that he's still here."

  Jack shook his head and resumed his pacing. Kinsey, the thoughtpolice and now religious fanatics worshiping long gone, false gods? "Is it just me?" he asked. "Or does this whole situation reek?"

  "Oh, it's not just you," Daniel assured him bitterly. Then he paused, face grim. "This technology is dangerous, Jack, especially in the hands of someone like Kinsey. We can't let him get hold of it.,,

  "We won't."

  But even as the words left his lips, Henry Boyd's face rose like a ghost in the back of his mind, abandoned and terrified, staring death in the face. Don't leave me behind, sir. Don't leave me behind...