Heart's Desire (10 page)

“Hey,” Jack said. “How about some water, and a chance to stretch our legs a little, if you know what I mean?”

“Later,” Keret said. “Right now we're a little busy flying, unless you like smashing into mountainsides.”

One of the men kicked the hatch open, and at the same time she felt the ship pitch, correcting course; she could see a sliver of blue sky come into view through one of the windows. There was something about that momentary stomach-dropping pitch that felt familiar to her, all wrong for an airship, more like something she couldn't quite put a name to.

“Move,” one of the men holding her said, shoving her back, and she scrambled back into the small compartment, since there didn't seem to be any better options. Jack was shoved in beside her, trying to catch himself as he landed but still wincing visibly in the light from above.

“I'll be back,” Keret said, and the hatch slammed shut.

“Okay, now what?” Sam said after the footsteps from above had all retreated. She could hear the hum of the motors, loud enough that they could probably talk without being overheard.

“We have some problems,” Jack said. “Even if these clowns manage to get in touch with Hammond, I'm betting that whatever he has to say isn't going to make them very happy.”

“At which point they start ‘making an example' of one of us,” Sam said.  She knew as well as Jack did that Hammond wasn't going to give into a ransom demand without looking for other options first, especially not if Keret asked for weapons. It wouldn't be a particularly good idea if he did, given that they didn't want it to get around that kidnapping SG teams was profitable, but it put them in a dangerous position right now.

“Or, worst-case, they can't get in touch with Hammond, because he also got kidnapped by this guy's friend, the one who apparently just screwed him over. So he gets in touch with the folks back in the capital, and they contact the SGC, and we see how long it takes whoever's in charge back there to make a decision with Hammond gone.”

“I'm betting a while,” Sam said.

“Probably long enough for these guys to decide we're more trouble than we're worth.” He shook his head. “Also, I should probably tell you that my right leg may be a problem. Walking and standing are fine. How climbing and sprinting go remains to be seen.”

Sam let out a breath. “Okay. Do we have any good news?”

“I was going to ask you that.”

“Not really,” Sam said. “Although I think I know why these airships can fly even though they're really too heavy for the size of the canopy.”

“Is it relevant?”

“Actually, it might be,” Sam said. “I think they're using Goa'uld anti-gravity technology. When they changed course, just now, it felt a lot like changing direction quickly in a tel'tak.”

“I would say that's pretty unlikely at their general level of technology, but given the zats…”

“I think they've gotten their hands on more Goa'uld technology than we thought at first,” Sam said. “I'd be really interested in seeing whether this ship is actually using the drive out of a tel'tak, or a glider
—
if so, I'm not sure why they need the propellers, unless they aren't able to fully power it, which is certainly a possibility
—
or whether they've got some kind of stripped-down version.”

“That 
would
 be interesting,” Jack said. She was never entirely sure whether he was being sarcastic or not when he said things like that, but she'd learned that taking the words at face value was usually more productive than arguing about it.

“It really would. The only thing is, I think they're probably going to kill us first.”

“I think you're right,” Jack said. “We're going to have to escape.”

“There is the slight problem that it's a long way down,” Sam pointed out.

“So it is,” Jack said. “That's why we're going to hijack the ship.”

“S
o, this isn't good.”

Teal'c inclined his head in agreement. “It is not.”

Daniel Jackson was pacing, as was his habit when confronted with problems that did not admit of immediate solution. He claimed that it helped him think, and as Teal'c had never yet been able to think of a way of disproving this, he once again repressed the urge to insist that he stop. “The Goa'uld weren't supposed to visit this planet often.”

“The frequency of their visits is immaterial…” Teal'c began.

“As long as one of the visits is happening right now, yes, I see that.”

“Our prospects for escape seem limited.”

“They do at that. I just wish I could talk to Reba again and see if I can convince her
—” He broke off as one of the crew came stomping down the stairs, a skinny man in dirty woolen clothes who gave them a scornful glance as he went by.

“Excuse me,” Daniel Jackson said. “We really need to talk to Reba. Can you tell her that there's something very important we need to discuss with her as soon as…” He trailed off as the man stomped by in the other direction and headed back up the stairs. “As soon as she has a chance.”

“Do you believe she will be amenable to persuasion?”

“Well, if she wants those tablets translated, it's worth a try. The other option is that we break out of this cell, fight a bunch of pirates who are armed when we're not, and then after we somehow defeat them all
—
and I'm just going to gloss over that part
—
we either learn how to fly this ship extremely fast, or we get off the ship somehow without falling to our deaths. And then all we have to do is climb back down a mountain and walk home.”

“When you put it that way, it does not sound promising,” Teal'c said.

“I'm thinking talking to Reba is a better place to start.”

“Perhaps if you tell her that you are of little value to the Goa'uld, but of great value to General Hammond, she will see the value in attempting to ransom you.”

Daniel Jackson looked at him as if he felt it was an unhelpful suggestion. “After she hands you over to the Goa'uld? That's not an okay solution here.”

“I would prefer to avoid it,” Teal'c said. “However, if one of us can return and tell General Hammond what has transpired, it will give the other a chance of rescue. I am the one Reba considers to be of value.”

“Which is why she wants to sell you to Asherah, so she can make an example of you or trade you to someone who's more interested in doing that.” He frowned. “You do know that I'm not okay with that happening, right?”

“I am aware that you are not,” Teal'c said after only a moment's hesitation.

“Okay,” Daniel Jackson said, although he still did not look entirely happy. “Because I would hate to think that you…”

He broke off again at the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. “Hey!” he called. “Do you think you could tell Reba
—”

“Tell me what?” the woman said, coming into view as she swung herself briskly down the last few steps. “It had better be interesting.”

Daniel Jackson considered her. “How's it coming with translating those tablets?”

“I told you, I'll work on it when I have time.”

“I could help. They must be worth something to you, or you wouldn't have gone to all that trouble storming the ceremony. By the way, how 
did
 you know that those particular tablets would be brought out for the ceremony?” He spread his hands at her sharp look. “Just curious.”

It would indeed be useful to know whether the High King had been complicit in their capture, but Teal'c thought that Daniel Jackson's motivation was mainly to get her to begin talking. He knew well that it would be harder for her to conceal all useful information from them while speaking than if she simply remained silent in their presence. It had occurred to him more than once that his friend's talents would have made him particularly skilled at the interrogation of prisoners, had he served the Goa'uld.

Reba looked as though she were considering whether the answer to the question would be of value to them. “Anath is Keret's sister,” she said after a moment, with a shrug. “She tells him anything interesting she hears in the palace, which he finds very useful. Which might have something to do with why he's never yet gotten around to paying off her indentures for her.”

“Wonderful guy.”

Reba smiled, a hard expression. “Yes, we're a virtuous lot. Did you have a point?”

“Let me see the tablets. Maybe I can translate them for you, and then you can…”

“Find a treasure greater than you could imagine,” Reba said.

“And then you might not need to sell us to Asherah.”

“Maybe I'll sell you to Asherah first and then go look for the treasure.”

“Maybe you will,” Daniel Jackson said evenly. “So there's no risk to you, is there? The tablets are metal, it's not like I can destroy them, and if you're worried that we're going to try to hit somebody over the head with them, you can stand there holding a zat on us.”

“'Zat?'” Reba asked, and then looked a little amused. “Oh, a zat'ni'ktel, yes. Most people around here call them thunderbolts.”

“But you knew what I meant.”

“I know a little of the language of the gods,” Reba said.

“May I ask why?”

“No.” She considered him through the bars, her hands on her hips. “How do I know this isn't a trick?”

“You said yourself you'd already translated part of the inscription. You can check my translation against what you already have.”

After a moment longer she shrugged. “Why not. You may as well make yourselves useful while I have you aboard. I'll even feed you a free meal for your trouble.”

“That's nice,” Daniel Jackson said. “Some people do consider feeding prisoners the humane thing to do anyway.”

“Virtuous and humane,” Reba said. “That's us for certain.” She smiled sharply. “Just remember that you're worth a lot less to me than the Jaffa. If you try to cross me, I'll hang you from a rope and use you for target practice.”

“We get the picture.”

She walked away and made her way down the stairs, presumably to fetch the tablets from some lower compartment.

“If you translate the tablets for her accurately
—” Teal'c began in a low voice.

“Then she may decide she doesn't need to keep me around after that, yes, I know. But let's start by seeing what they actually say.”

“I have no better plan,” Teal'c admitted, and took up a position by the bars where he could keep watch as they waited.

“H
ijack the airship,” Carter said. Jack couldn't make out her expression, but she sounded a little skeptical.

“Yep.”

“And how are we planning to do this?”

“We get out of here, we find somebody with a zat and take it away from them, and then we take out the rest of the crew. After that we put the ship down somewhere, kick these guys off it, and fly it back to the palace. Piece of cake.”

“Do you know how to fly an airship? I don't think they actually covered that when I was at the Academy. Although, you know, maybe in your day…”

“We were up to biplanes by then,” Jack said. “Seriously, you can figure out how this thing works, right?”

“Probably,” Carter said. “You know, one of these days we're 
not
 actually going to be able to learn to fly something in a crisis situation where failure means we crash and die.”

“Today is not that day,” Jack said. “Come on, Carter.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “I think we can figure out how to fly the airship.”