“Is that a statement of fact or wishful thinking?”
O’Neill glared, his bloodshot eyes baleful.
“I’m not dying.
”
Maybe not today
. “Okay. But…?”
Silence. O’Neill’s face was a study in angry indecision. Then it cleared. “But I’m not capable of leading this team, either. Or this mission. I haven’t been for days.”
More silence. Beyond the insubstantial canvas wall, life in Georgetown went on. Dixon blinked. “I didn’t expect you to admit it.”
“Because Frank told you I was an egomaniacal jerk?”
“No. Because I know what they mean to you.”
O’Neill grunted.
Frustrated, he banged a fist on his thigh. “I swear, I didn’t know Fraiser was going to do it, Jack. I wish to God I’d realized. I got her back into the Hazmat suit — too slowly, I admit, but — anyway. Chances are she’ll be okay.”
A convulsive shudder ran through O’Neill’s body, and he dropped his forehead into his hands. “She’s too gutsy for her own good, that’s her problem.”
“I guess…” He chewed his lip. “If she stayed here instead of going back then we’re even more screwed than we thought. And now she’s screwed, right along with us.”
O’Neill nodded, still staring at the ground. “Yeah.”
The man was deeply distressed. Dixon felt his jaw drop. “Hey. You and Fraiser. You’re not — ”
“What?” O’Neill looked up. “No! God, no. She’s my doctor. We’re friends.”
Which meant squat, but he’d let it go for now. “Jack, I need to know. If you’re too sick to stay team leader, are you willing to trust me with the mission, and your people’s lives?”
O’Neill snorted. “You mean I get a choice?”
“Of course. Say the word and I’ll defer to Teal’c. No problem. But there might be a bit of a problem if I have to call Jackson ‘sir’.”
Another snort. “Hey. I’m sick, I’m not demented.”
Dixon dropped to a crouch, so they were at eye level. “I’ll keep your people safe, Jack. As safe as I can. You have my word.”
“Yeah. I know. But don’t get the wrong idea, Dixon. This doesn’t mean I’m going to talk to you about Cromwell.”
“Didn’t think it did.”
“Just so long as we’re clear.”
“We are.”
“Okay.” O’Neill shook his head wearily. “Get Fraiser in here, would you? Now Daniel’s woken me up I might as well give her a piece of what’s left of my mind.” He pulled a face. “My last official act as team leader.”
He stood. “You sure?”
“No, I just said it to amuse myself.”
“Yeah. Right. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He found Fraiser and Teal’c in the tent the Jaffa used for his
kel’noreem
. They were both cross-legged on the matting, with Fraiser taking notes from whatever Teal’c was saying.
“O’Neill wants to see you, Doc,” he said. “He’s pretty pissed so I don’t suggest you keep him waiting.”
Fraiser sighed. “Dammit, Daniel…” She closed the note book. “Time to face the music, I guess.”
Teal’c went with them to SG-1’s tent. They ducked inside, and Dixon slid himself into an unobtrusive shadow.
Can’t wait to see how O’Neill handles this
.
Fraiser spoke first. “Colonel O’Neill, you — ”
O’Neill’s finger jabbed at her. “
Shut up
.” He turned to Teal’c, and not even the ravages sickness had wrought could hide the bitter anger in him. “Tell me you didn’t know she was going to do this. Tell me you didn’t cook up this insane stunt because you think this mess is all your fault.”
Teal’c stood at parade rest. “I did not know. I had no hand in Doctor Fraiser’s actions.”
Silence. Dixon watched as some of the burning fury drained from O’Neill’s eyes. “Okay.”
“O’Neill — ” Teal’c began, but O’Neill’s finger jabbed again.
“Now
you
shut up.” He glared at Fraiser. “
Well
?”
Behind the curved plastic of the Hazmat suit’s face-mask, Fraiser’s expression was torn between anger and chagrin. “Colonel, I don’t appreciate your tone.”
“And I don’t appreciate you being a bonehead.”
“Does that mean you intend to decline any treatment I might arrive at as a result of my actions?”
Nailed him. O’Neill stared. “You can fix this? For real?”
“No promises, Colonel,” Fraiser said coolly. “But I do have an idea. Teal’c and I just need time to figure a few things out.”
A sideways glance at Teal’c. “Where does he fit in?”
“My symbiote,” said Teal’c. “Doctor Fraiser believes it might hold the key to a cure.”
“Not a
cure
, a
treatment
,” said Fraiser, edgy. “
Cure
is a four-letter word.”
“Potayto, potarto!” said O’Neill, just as edgy. “Can you fix this or not?”
“Perhaps. If my idea pans out there’s a chance we can eradicate all symptoms of this plague. Maybe even knock out the core virus itself.”
“I thought the plague disappeared on its own after the rebirthing season,” said O’Neill. “Isn’t that what the villagers said?”
Fraiser didn’t answer that one. Behind the face-mask her eyes were guarded.
“What?” said O’Neill, and sat a little straighter, even though it clearly cost him. “Fraiser? What?”
“The plague viruses have mutated beyond their normal parameters,” she said carefully. “As a result, I suspect they won’t return to dormancy as usual.”
“Because of us, right?” said O’Neill, closing his eyes. “Somehow us coming here has screwed with rebirth.”
Fraiser sighed, a metallic sound through the Hazmat suit intercom. “I’m afraid so.”
O’Neill looked across at Carter, surrounded by i/v stands, still as death beneath her blanket. “So we did this. It’s on us.”
“Not intentionally,” said Fraiser, in a small voice.
“Yeah. Right,” O’Neill replied. His tone would have etched glass. “That’s what we’ll put on Lotar’s headstone.
Whoops. Sorry.
”
“If Doctor Fraiser is right about my Goa’uld symbiote,” said Teal’c, “we might yet undo this damage.”
“At what risk to you, Teal’c?” O’Neill demanded. “We’ve already seen how fast you die if anything happens to Junior. And it’s not like we’ve got a stash of his little cousins wriggling in a jar somewhere ready to take his place.”
“I am prepared to take the risk,” said Teal’c, unperturbed.
O’Neill scorched with him a look. “Yeah? Well it’s not your call. If you think I’m trading my life for yours, think again. Carter won’t go for it either.”
Teal’c’s expression chilled. “You are free to refuse medical treatment, O’Neill, as is Major Carter. But that will not stop me from helping the people of Adjo.”
“Even if it costs you your life?”
Fascinated, Dixon watched as Teal’c nodded.
Hell. It’s the Cor’ai take two. If O’Neill thinks he can browbeat Teal’c on this one he is demented, as well as sick.
And O’Neill knew it. “Fine. Whatever, Teal’c. It’s not like I’m in any shape to stop you. Fraiser — ”
Her head came up, wary. “Sir?”
“Pin your ears back, because this is an order. If you honestly think you and Teal’c have a chance here, you take it. You do your best to get us out of this mess. But the minute, no, the
second
it looks like Teal’c’s life is in danger, it’s over. You pull the plug.”
Fraiser nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now scoot. You two have a lot of work to do.”
The moment Teal’c and Fraiser were out of the tent, O’Neill slumped, almost groaning. Dixon eased him onto his camp bed, and covered his shivering body with a blanket.
Fighting unconsciousness, O’Neill stared up at him. “Okay, Dixon. The team’s yours now. You better take care of them… or I’ll kick your ass.”
“You got it, Jack,” he said quietly, and left the man to his pain.
“Okay, Teal’c,” said Janet, as they walked the streets of Georgetown. “Here’s what I’m thinking.
If
we accept the hypothesis that the Goa’uld genetically engineered their symbiotes so they could act as a
Jaffa’s
immune system and cure human diseases, then doesn’t it
also
follow that the genetically engineered symbiotes were given the ability to specifically defeat the viruses that Ra and Setesh let loose here on Adjo?”
“Yes,” Teal’c said, after a moment. “But if that is so, why then was Adjo declared
rek’ash’navai?”
Damn. Good question.
“Well — maybe because even
with
the genetic engineering the pathogens in their pure state were just too virulent. Even with genetic engineering the symbiotes were still at risk,
then
. But now that’s clearly not the case. I mean, your symbiote’s keeping you healthy. Which means the original pathogens have weakened considerably in the last three thousand years.”
“Your explanation seems logical,” said Teal’c. “But I am not a doctor.”
Some days I don’t feel like one either
. “We know already that a Goa’uld can share a human body without the human immune system rejecting it. So there was already
some
kind of genetic tampering, to make that possible. Which means, theoretically, if we can synthesize a vaccine from your symbiote’s blood, and then find a way to mass-produce it, we can innoculate everyone here — maybe everyone on Adjo — and halt this thing in its tracks.”
Teal’c looked at her. “And how long will that take?”
Oh God. Too long
. “Let’s not worry about that now. Let’s take this one step at a time. First, I need a sample of your symbiote’s blood.”
They hurried to the medical supply tent, where Teal’c stripped off his fatigue shirt and tee-shirt, baring his symbiote pouch to the warm air. She rummaged in the supply cases for a fresh sample kit, cursing the clumsiness of the damned Hazmat suit.
“You want to do this standing or lying down?” she asked. “We can get a camp bed.”
“You would have to kneel,” said Teal’c. “I shall stand.”
Except, even standing, she couldn’t get the job done. With Teal’c holding the symbiote three-quarters of the way out of its pouch, keeping its thrashing to a minimum, she tried to take the blood but the damned Hazmat suit made her too slow, too awkward. After the fourth failed attempt she stood back, sweating.
“Okay. Screw this,” she muttered. “Teal’c, take a break.”
And as he returned the symbiote to its haven and sat down, not quite steady, she stripped off the suit.
“Hey,” she said, meeting Teal’c’s horrified gaze. “It had to come off sooner or later. There’s the small matter of eating, drinking and peeing.” She sniffed, then screwed up her nose. “God. I stink. When we’re done here I’m taking an hour-long shower.”
Teal’c stood. “Colonel O’Neill will be most displeased, Doctor Fraiser.”
Truth be told, I’m not so happy myself. I guess now I’ll really have to make this work
. “It’s fine, Teal’c. I’ll be fine. Now let’s get this done.”
Blessedly free of the Hazmat suit’s restraints, she got the blood she needed.
“Thank you, Teal’c,” she said. “You should rest. I know that was unpleasant.”
“I cannot rest,” he said, pulling on his tee-shirt. “I must assist Colonel Dixon and Daniel Jackson with their rounds.”
“
Rest
,” she insisted. “You’ve got an extra pair of hands on the team now. Take advantage of them.”
“Very well,” he agreed, and left the tent.
After scribbling notes to go with the blood sample, outlining her theory and jotting down a list of the equipment she needed from her lab, she bundled everything into an empty transport case, hurried to the gate and opened a wormhole to the base.
“Sergeant, I need to speak to Doctor Warner.”
“
Janet
!” said Bill, seeing her via the MALP camera. “
My God — your Hazmat suit
— you’re staying there?
“
“Yes,” she said. “Trust me, Bill. You’d have done the same thing. Look, I’m sending you through a sample of symbiote blood and an outline of my theory. Double check my reasoning, will you? Make sure I’m on the right track? Then we can talk about what comes next.”
“
Symbiote blood?”
said Bill.
“From Teal’c? What — you’re thinking a vaccine? My God, is that even possible?”
Oh, the joys of not having to explain everything. “That’s what I’m hoping to find out, Bill.”
“There’s not a lot
of blood in a symbiote, Janet. We’ll have to be careful.”
She felt sick. “I know.”
And as for the ethical considerations, well… it was a Goa’uld.
And this crisis was the Goa’uld’s fault to begin with. She didn’t have the luxury of being squeamish.
“I’ve included a list of equipment I need, so I can set up my own lab. Once we’re agreed we’re headed in the right direction I can duplicate your processes and we can double-check our results.”