* * *
Daniel’s life had tunneled down into one long round after another of
Wéiqí
. More than half the board was covered in Yu’s black stones while Daniel had barely ten white ones in play. He’d start to build up a new section, far removed from Yu’s massive blot of black stones in the center, only to have the Goa’uld’s black stones surround him until they were all captured.
The sun set as they continued playing the extraordinarily complex game. Through it all, Yu never gave him an inclination as to what would happen once all the stones were played, all the rounds finished, and Daniel had lost… which in Daniel’s mind seemed inevitable.
Win or lose. Live or die. One thing was certain, time was running out. There were just so many moves left on the board. He’d have to do something, figure out some way out of there, before the game ended. A part of him, the archeologist inside, wished he could stay there long enough to find out more about Yu’s time on Earth, to learn how much influence the Goa’uld really had on those early days in China.
Even that part of him wanted to live, no matter what Jack had thought. Daniel knew he didn’t want to die. Not on some obscure planet, far from his friends and home.
Lao Dan had just removed their evening meal when Daniel struck upon a new strategy. A two-part strategy, actually. He’d need to distract Yu long enough to have the Goa’uld let down his guard. Then, he might have a chance at either finding a back way out of the throne room or, at worst case, knocking Yu out when he wasn’t looking. Daniel looked around the room, settling on the jade sculpture beneath the cherry tree. It was small enough to lift, though big enough to do some damage.
But first, he needed to distract Yu. The only way that would happen was if Daniel started winning, or at least made it harder so Yu would have to concentrate more fully on the game.
Feeling Yu’s gaze on him as he scooped up a piece from his diminishing bowl of white stones, Daniel studied the board—the whole board—as if it was a chess game. Five rounds had been played, each on a different section of the board. The far left bottom, middle and top sides were covered in black stones, as was the center and an area right above it. That left the mid sections in all four quadrants and the far right top and bottom.
Early on, he’d set a stone at each corner, an homage of sorts to how Jack would often split up SG-1 to surround a target. If Daniel could build up the two remaining corners, he might have a chance. Under Yu’s watchful eye, he plunked down a stone on the board’s outer edge, next to his corner piece.
Yu plunked down a black on the edge next to his. Daniel dropped a stone on the other side of his first, grouping three whites together. Yu set down another stone, this time inside the V Daniel had created. With a smile, Daniel dropped a white in on the other side and cut off Yu’s play.
He picked up the black stone with a smile. It was his first win.
“A good move.” Yu stuck his fingers into his lacquered bowl and picked at his stones.
“Don’t give up on me yet. I might actually win.” As nonchalantly as possible, Daniel dropped his solitary black beside the board.
“And you believe winning will free you.”
Daniel flinched. Had he been wrong? “Will it kill me?”
“That depends on you.”
“Just how many days of playing do you expect of me?”
Yu narrowed his eyes. “Just how many days of not answering my question do you expect me to tolerate?”
“I can’t answer your question. I don’t remember being here. Really.”
“And yet, you were.” The Goa’uld took up one stone from the bowl, examined it, and the dropped it back down. “I can only assume from your refusal to answer my question that you do wish to stay here, indefinitely. But before you decide, I will remind you of one thing…”
Yu put down his bowl and gazed steadily at Daniel. “We share a common enemy. That enemy is Anubis. While you and the Tau’ri may consider him new to your fight, he is a very old enemy of my house.”
Daniel put his head in his hands, his mind racing over the best course of action. He knew Yu told the truth. Undercover as Yu’s
lotar
, Daniel had seen firsthand how, of all the Goa’uld, Yu had been the most vehemently opposed to Anubis’ reentry into the System Lords’ Alliance.
If ever there was a cliché, the old ‘enemy of my enemy is my friend’ seemed more apropopriate than ever.
Besides, striking Yu with the statue was a dumb plan. He knew that. Between the Jaffa outside the door and who knew how many were garrisoned throughout the fortress, the chances of Daniel getting out alive were slim to none.
Recognizing that sometimes the best strategy was the truth, Daniel stared back at Yu. “If I tell you, will you let me go?”
“If you tell the truth, you shall be rewarded.” Yu said with a nod. “Tell me how you managed to appear here, in my throne room. More importantly, how did you know Anubis would attack Abydos?”
Realizing he’d been holding his breath, Daniel let out a long sigh. “A little over a year ago, I died.”
“Yet you are very much alive,” Yu observed.
“I am, but at the time when I came here, I wasn’t.”
The Goa’uld’s eyes flashed white. “Now you speak to me in riddles.”
Daniel raised a hand. “Trust me, I’m not. What happened was… I ascended.”
“Explain.” Yu leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
Daniel explained the process of Ascension, deliberately leaving out any mention of the Ancients or their technological abilities, such as building the Stargates. The last thing Yu, or any other Goa’uld needed to know, was how advanced the Ancients had been. He finished his explanation by sharing the truth about Anubis. “He ascended at one point, too. I think right after you killed him in battle — ”
“That was a thousand years ago,” Yu murmured.
“Yeah, well… the other Ascended beings threw him out. He’s basically only half-ascended, some sort of state that makes it necessary for him to wear a shield to contain his energy.”
“And you? Were you thrown out as well?”
Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know. Like I said, I can’t remember.”
And there it was. He really didn’t know. The answer lay so out of reach, so far beyond anything he could even begin to guess at, that even admitting his uncertainty hurt.
Admitting his feelings to a Goa’uld didn’t help, either.
Yu sat quietly for a moment, stroking his imperial beard, thinking who knew what? Daniel hoped he was contemplating how to send him home.
Finally, Yu spoke. “I promised you would be rewarded.”
A ten ton weight fell off Daniel’s back. “If you take me to the Stargate, I’ll give you the coordinates.” The new Alpha site would be out, he couldn’t let them know its coordinates, but Sam had mentioned a new mining operation on P3X-403. He could gate there. Then, he’d borrow someone’s GDO and gate back to the S.G.C. A shower, a debrief with Jack and General Hammond, and then, sleep — in a real bed, no less.
“You misunderstand me,” said Yu, reaching under the table.
“By ship then? I guess you could take me back to where you found me.”
“I have a different reward in mind.” He brought up a small ebony box worked with a jade rendition of his symbol.
As the Goa’uld opened the box, Daniel realized with a sinking feeling that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Take them.” Yu held out four jade dragons, each no larger than his thumb. They were intricately carved, similar to the Chinese dragons popular in modern Earth culture. The dragons stood on miniature pedestals, their claws raised in the air as if fighting some unseen force. Each one’s eyes were painted a different color: gray, red, green and blue. The same colors as the chairs in the room Daniel had slept in last night.
Daniel didn’t want them. He wanted to go home. “But you said — ”
“They will give you an advantage in our game.”
Daniel clenched his fists. “I told you what I know. Now let me go.”
“Take them,” Yu boomed.
“I’m not playing your stupid game,” Daniel shouted back.
“Take them!”
In afterthought, Daniel realized he should have taken the pieces and he should never have raised his voice.
Both these thoughts occurred to him as Yu’s hand shot up, his Goa’uld ribbon device erupted, burrowing sheer pain into Daniel’s head. A thousand fire ants crawled around his skull, pushing and pulling at every blood cell in his brain.
Finally, Yu withdrew his hand and Daniel sank down to the cold, dark floor. He had a choice, that was perfectly obvious.
Either pass out or play another round of
Wéiqí
.
The choice was made for him. His eyes slid closed.
Chapter Ten
PLANET DESIGNATION: LORD YU’S
HOMEWORLD (P3X-042)
STATUS: ENEMY OCCUPIED TERRITORY
APPROX 2100 HRS LOCAL TIME
3 JUL 03/1020 HRS BASE TIME
Jack stopped in front of what he was pretty sure was the entryway to the cargo ship. It was hard to tell, the thing being in stealth mode and all. Having blood dripping down his left brow didn’t make it any easier.
Carter silently came up beside him. One glimpse over his shoulder confirmed that Teal’c and Bra’tac were still within earshot. So was that damn Goa’uld com ball.
Disgusted, Jack turned back around, staring at where the ship should be. “You gonna let me in, Carter?”
With a sigh heard halfway around the planet, she thumbed the ship’s remote. The air rippled. Like a wave of water on the shore, the ripple regressed, revealing the ship’s hatch only an arm’s length away. Without waiting for permission, Jack palmed the door open and stepped inside.
The door slid closed and he went aft, aware the entire time that Carter was hot on his heels. Jack kept his mouth shut. When he reached the head, he shoved the door open and entered. Again, Carter followed him in.
She slammed the door shut, hard. Jack almost flinched, but then remembered he’d as much reason to be angry as she did. When she whirled toward him, he met her glare for glare.
It was the ultimate stare down contest.
Until he couldn’t help himself. He smirked.
She flashed one of those toothy grins back at him.
“Geez, Carter,” he said with a shake of his head, “you ever think of going into television? You’d make a hell of an actress.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, sir. I’m fairly certain Ambassador Huang believed every bit of it.”
“Ambassador Huang… Just repeating that bastard’s name makes me want to wash my mouth out with soap.” Jack glanced toward the overkill of a bathtub. “Carter, do the Goa’uld even use soap?”
“Wouldn’t know, sir. I brought my own.”
“Always be prepared, they say.” For the first time in too damn long, Jack allowed himself a brief smile. It felt great to be out of sight of that damn eavesdropping com ball.
He touched the wound over his eye and brought back his hand. Not too bloody, but he’d need stitches thanks to Bra’tac slamming him with that branch. Damn, that old man had a temper about as bad as his own.
“Would you like me to get the med kit, sir?” Carter asked.
“Probably wouldn’t be a good idea to drip blood all over Lord Snakehead’s fancy palace, huh?” He leaned in toward one of the mirrors. The whole damn room was covered in them. Narcissism and Goa’uld went hand in hand.
He had blood on his brow, on the side of his face, and on the collar of his black tee. Just great. “Get my pack, too, if you wouldn’t mind, thanks.”
While Carter went aft to collect his things, Jack scrutinized the damage. Half an inch long and right on the eyebrow, as usual. Maybe he should just paint a target on it.
Maybe he should just kick himself while he’s at it. As royally screwed as this mission had been from the start, it’d gone from bad to worse.
Carter returned. “Do you want me to stitch that up for you, sir?”
“I got it.” Close quarters with Carter was one thing; he’d learned how to lock that room down tight. But after spending the last day play-acting at being pissed at her, the need to assure himself that they were good was too damned tempting.
Having her right up in his face just wouldn’t fly.
He grabbed the orange nylon med kit and his pack, dumping them both on the sink counter. He zipped open the med kit and rummaged inside for an iodine wipe. “All right, let’s review the situation, Major.”
Carter sat down on the edge of the tub. “We still don’t know if Huang has some sort of connection to Lord Yu.”
“Oh, we know.” Stripping off his vest and jacket, he dumped them on the floor and ripped open the wipe. “What we don’t know is how the hell this guy got past White House security clearances. Diplomat, my ass.”
Between the aerial welcoming committee hovering over Yu’s fortress and the nasty skirmish they just went through with the Jaffa, Jack could feel it in his gut. Someone had tipped their hand to Yu. He was betting it was Huang.
Jack dabbed the yellowish brown gauze on his brow. Damn stuff stung, though it was better than ending up in the infirmary with a needle full of antibiotics in his ass. Cleaned up, it didn’t look so bad.
Screw the stitches. The wound would heal nice and neat. It always did.
He tossed the med kit to the floor.
Carter flipped open her watch. “Base time has us at 1020 hours. Janet said she’d have something definitive by 1030. That’s just ten minutes from now.”
“Frasier’s piece of the puzzle is only going to confirm what we already know.”
“Sir, all we have so far is circumstantial evidence. Teal’c still can’t place who Huang looks like — ”
“If T’s spidey senses are tingling, that’s good enough for me.” But a bloody tee shirt wasn’t. Jack unzipped his pack and pulled out a new one. “What about that tie pin? It’s like he was baiting us. Talk about a typical, arrogant Goa’uld maneuver.”
“Without having Huang hand it over, I can only go by what we saw.”
Jack shrugged out of his bloody tee and threw on the new one. “Tasted like naquadah, did it?”
Carter shook her head. “It’s not a taste thing, sir. More like a presence. Like being in a dark room, walking toward a wall, and knowing it’s there.”
Jack stuffed the discarded shirt into his pack and zipped it up. “Let’s not forget the lovely little emblem. Looked like two snakeheads wrapped up into one.” Tossing on his jacket and vest, he grabbed the pack. Something small was lodged into one of the outside pockets. He ripped open the velcro flap.
Inside was his old Zippo.
“Sir, that symbol could have very well been Chinese in origin. If Daniel was here, he’d know.”
Jack pulled out the lighter. A lot of memories were tied up in its brass casing and springs. Unlike his eyebrow, some of those memories hadn’t healed as neatly.
He stuck the Zippo in a vest pocket and looked at Carter. “You realize that if Daniel was here, we wouldn’t be.”
She frowned. “You still blame yourself for what happened.”
He did, though he still wasn’t quite sure for what.
“Daniel’s changed, sir. He’s come a long way since our early days, especially since he’s returned.”
“If you say so.”
“Sir, I’m sure of it. But — ”
“But what, Major?”
“What if we’re wrong about Huang? What if he really is who he says he is?”
“And I’m the great and powerful Oz.” Jack grabbed his gear and opened the door. Stepping out into the corridor, he noticed she hadn’t followed. He turned around and saw that troubled Carter, the one where she bit her lip and fiddled with her hands. The one which meant she was thinking too much, again. “What?”
She rose from the tub, sticking her hands in her pockets. “Sir, if Huang really is China’s ambassador, we’ve violated the agreement — ”
“You mean, I violated the agreement.” As if he’d had any other choice. Another few seconds and that Jaffa would have fried Carter and Teal’c like toast.
“Yes, sir. By pulling out your P90, there’s every chance Huang will make good on his threat. The Stargate program could be revealed to the general public.”
“And you think that’s a bad thing.”
“I don’t think it’s up to us to decide. Do you?”
“Honestly, Major… I couldn’t care less what the general public thinks. A man’s life is at stake. A good man. If the price of getting Daniel back alive and in one piece means Earth needs to grow up a little, then let them.”
“I want Daniel back as badly as you do, sir. That said, the political ramifications — ”
“Carter!” He cut her off with his free hand. “I’m tired of diplomats and politicians.”
“Yes, sir.”
“No more games.” Tossing his gear aft, Jack gestured toward the hatch. It was time to get this show on the road.
STARGATE COMMAND
STATUS: GATE OPERATIONS SUSPENDED
03 JUL 03/1025 HRS BASE TIME
George Hammond studied the monitor in Dr. Frasier’s office, recognizing the bar graphs on the screen as DNA profiles; six panels of markers splayed across the screen. Major Davis and Jacob crowded in beside him while the doctor sat in a visitor’s chair. Beside her, a somewhat calmer Dr. Hopkins fidgeted in another chair, crossing and uncrossing his legs impatiently.
George returned his gaze to his Chief Medical Officer. She clutched a clipboard as if her life depended on it. George sympathized. He knew Dr. Frasier was close with Dr. Jackson and the rest of SG-1. “What am I looking at exactly, Doctor?”
“Exactly, sir? Even I’m not completely sure.”
“Explain.”
She dropped her clipboard to her knees. “From the saliva I pulled from Ambassador Huang’s water glass, I managed to pull enough material to run some basic DNA tests. These aren’t complete but — ”
“Hold on a moment,” said Major Davis. “I thought saliva DNA tests were better than blood tests.”
“That’s a common misconception,” Dr. Frasier said with a shake of her head. “If we can swab the ambassador’s cheek, I could run a buccal swabbing which is far more than just saliva. Successful collection occurs when the swab contains cheek cells, which may or may not be present in saliva.”
Major Davis shot up from the monitor. “General, we can’t ask the ambassador to submit to a cheek swab. Between his diplomatic immunity and — ”
“I recognize that, Major.” George looked back at Dr. Frasier. “Let’s start with what we do have and go from there. What did you find?”
“I’m not even sure how this is possible, sir. The ambassador’s DNA contains genetic markers not seen in the human genome for nearly 4,000 years.”
“Wait a minute,” said Davis. “Is Huang a Goa’uld?”
George glanced over at Jacob who’d already closed his eyes in transition. “Selmak?”
Selmak opened his eyes… or Jacob’s eyes. George never could keep the concept straight.
“
Impossible. I would have sensed a fellow symbiote’s presence upon his arrival.
”
“If he’s not a Goa’uld then what or who is he?” George demanded.
Dr. Hopkins raised his hand. “That’s where I come in, but…” he pointed at Jacob, “why does he talk like that?”
“Need-to-know,” George replied automatically.
Hopkins threw his hands up in the air. “You should have that tattooed on your forehead. It’d make conversations a lot shorter.”
An uncomfortable silence descended in the room.
Finally, Dr. Frasier coughed. “Sir, I requested Dr. Hopkins’ assistance after we spoke. Once Teal’c and Major Carter both confirmed that the sigil on the ambassador’s tie pin directly matched Lord Yu, I thought it would help to get the opinion of an expert.”
“An expert in what, exactly?” George gave the archaeologist an intentionally scorching look. If the man made one more derogatory comment about the colonel or anyone else in the military, George was more than prepared to have him escorted from the base. Permanently.
Hopkins cleared his throat. “Xia Dynasty history. If this System Lord Yu really did spend time on Earth and he really was Yu Huang Shang-Ti, then the Xia Dynasty is how we place him in historical context.”
“Historical context is irrelevant to this situation,” Major Davis rightly said. “We need cold hard facts.”
Hopkins lifted his chin with just enough arrogance for George to mentally start writing up those termination papers.
“History has everything to do with what’s going on here,” Hopkins said. “More precisely, Yu’s history. If he really was the legendary Yu the Great, he was responsible for stopping China’s Yellow River from flooding around 2300 B.C.”
Jacob snorted. “You mean Yu actually helped the Chinese?”
“So the legend goes. He also created the game Go, believe it or not. Some academicians insist it was Emperor Yao who created the game; however… my bet’s on Yu. Anyone clever enough to stop a flood back in those days — ”
“We’re talking about a Goa’uld, Doctor.” George didn’t bother to hide his impatience. “A Goa’uld who has your friend and could very well kill him and all of SG-1.”
“Sirs, if I can get us back on point?” Dr. Frasier gestured toward the monitor.
The room simmered down instantly. George silently thanked his CMO for putting them all — himself included — back on task.
She pointed toward the top left corner of the report. “This is Huang’s DNA. Immediately to its right is a genetic marker study done by forensic anthropologists of a 4,000 year-old mummy found not far from the Yellow River Dr. Hopkins mentioned. Note the similarities.”
“I’m the one who found that mummy, by the way,” Hopkins added, bobbing up and down on his toes with all the enthusiasm of a five-year-old brat. “Two years ago. Shortly before Daniel approached me about the Stargate Program.”
George deliberately ignored him. He gestured toward the other four panels on the screen. “What about these other DNA profiles? They also match Huang?”
“Yes, sir,” Dr. Frasier said cautiously. “Those are from the remains of the four graves found by SG-13 on P3Y-702.”
George sucked in a breath. “The planet where Dr. Jackson was captured by Lord Yu?”
“Don’t you get it?” Hopkins jumped up from his chair. “With all the artifacts we found, dating back specifically to Yu’s era, he — I mean, the Goa’uld — had to have used that planet as a base of operations once.”
Jacob spoke up. “And you think this somehow ties Huang directly to Yu.”
“It certainly ties him to the four bodies found on P3Y-702.” Dr. Frasier traded places with Major Davis by the monitor. “Not only does Ambassador Huang have the same rare genetic markers,” she pointed at the third panel, “he also shares the same parentage with this particular set.”
George shared a look with Jacob. “Can Selmak help us clear this up any more without resorting to blood tests?”
“We’re on it.” With a nod, Jacob left with Dr. Frasier.
“In the meantime,” George said, looking at Major Davis, “I suggest you call Washington and find out everything you can about Ambassador Huang’s recent posting.”