Stargate SG-1: Trial by Fire: SG1-1 (30 page)

As a matter of fact, the trickiest part so far had been explaining
to Professor Kelly that she wasn't going to join the excursion.
By comparison, sneaking out of the house had been child's play.
Ayzebel had led him to a dark comer of the patio and down a narrow
staircase into a labyrinth of gloomy chambers and corridors. If
he'd missed the skulls ogling him, the dry, musty smell would have
flagged it up: catacombs. Daniel remembered reading somewhere
that the Phoenicians had liked to keep their dearly departed in close
proximity. Given the size of the place, Hamilgart had at least ten
generations of his forebears lodging in the basement. Anyway,
at the far end of the catacombs had been another, even narrower
staircase and a horrendously creaky backdoor that opened into an
alley. Piece o' cake.

Night was falling fast, and the light gray horizontal blur of the
road began to blend in with the dark gray vertical blurs of the trees.
It couldn't be far now. As if on cue, Ayzebel slowed her step.

"We are almost there, Lord Daniel. What do you wish to do?"

"Just call me Daniel," he murmured.

"As you wish, Lord Daniel."

He stifled a sigh. "Can we get inside? I'd like to have a look
around first. Maybe there's a way of getting Jack out."

"I cannot see how you might achieve this, but yes, you can go
inside." She reached under her robe and retrieved a satchel of some
kind. "Take this. It contains barley. Once you reach the courtyard,
go to the inner sanctuary. If anyone else is in there, pretend to make
an offering. Walk around the statue seven times, and then place the
satchel at its feet."

"How do you know these things? I thought women weren't -"

"As a child I used to come here to play. I learned many things."
A soft chuckle. "It was not permitted, of course, but that made it all the more interesting. Sometimes the priests caught me, but they
merely laughed and sent me home. Those were better days."

Among the trees on the hillside above reared the shadowy
bulk of the temple, crowned by a bubble of warm light. Torches
were burning in the courtyard. They followed the road around the
perimeter and to the entrance. Ayzebel stopped.

"I must wait for you here. Do not be long."

"I won't be," Daniel promised, and slipped through the
archway.

Inside the court he was confronted with the hum and bustle of
frantic preparations. Everyone was far too busy to pay any attention
to him. In the unsteady shimmer of the torchlight he could make
out Temple Guards posted by each of the cells under the colonnade
and at every doorway. They put paid to the notion of springing Jack
the straightforward way.

The Guards' were the only bodies at rest. Acolytes, singly and
in pairs, scurried to and fro across the yard, and Daniel couldn't
even guess at the purpose of their errands. Muttering an apology,
he stepped out of the way of a fast-moving purple blur and squinted
for the inner sanctuary. He assumed it was the tower that Kelly had
been so curious about. The bronze gates stood open now, and he
made a beeline for them, careful to adjust his pace to the frenzy
around him. A set of seven broad steps led up to the shrine.

The interior smelled of wood smoke, and it was deserted.
Fire baskets hung from a vault at least fifty feet high, and from
somewhere above filtered the muted murmur of voices. At the
center of the room loomed a massive statue, its head almost grazing
the ceiling. After a quick double-check, Daniel decided to save the
offering for later and put on his glasses instead. The bright golden
blur of the idol solidified to a colossal bull, raised on its haunches,
arms extended and too anthropomorphic to be called front legs
anymore. Set into its belly was an ornate hatch, shut for the moment
and accessible via a marble ramp. He took a few steps back until he
could see the statue's eyes. A ruby flicker danced behind them.

"Oh God..." He felt a prickle in the nape of his neck, fine hairs
standing on end. "Jackson, you moron!"

He knew what he was looking at. He'd seen old drawings of idols like this. The older incarnation of Moloch. It was a play on
vowels. When the Hebrews had conquered Canaan - Phoenicia
- they'd tried to stamp out Canaanite religion. To demonstrate
what they thought of it, the name of the main local deity had been
conflated with the vowels of the Hebrew word bosheth, meaning
shame, to Molech. Later on, when the Phoenicians had colonized
North Africa and the cult had been revived in Carthage, people had
worshipped a new god in old guise: Moloch.

Jack had been right. Meleq was a Goa'uld, and one who - like
Moloch - got his kicks out of burning children alive. The blessed
Mysteries of Meleq. Jesus! One by one, the kids would be pushed
into the furnace inside the statue, and... The walls of the sanctuary
were pocked with hundreds of niches, each containing a small urn.
No points for guessing what those urns held. No more urns. Not
tonight. Not ever. Not if Dr. Daniel Jackson had anything to do
with it!

Wishing he'd never listened to Kelly and her claims that rumors
about Phoenician child sacrifice were a Roman fabrication, Daniel
slowly circled the statue. Directly behind it gaped a small doorway
and through that lay a steep staircase, barely more than shoulderwide, which spiraled upwards within the tower walls. The voices
he'd heard came from up there. After a moment's hesitation he
ducked through the doorway. Jack would probably consider this a
singularly bad idea.

He figured he must have rounded the tower at least once by the
time a scythe of light came slicing down the steps. The voices were
much louder now, chanting some kind of litany, and Daniel tried
to stop breathing. Flattened against the wall, he crept up to another
doorway and peeped through.

Swell! Meet the entire Synod, assembled for private prayer or
something. They stood gathered around Kandaulo, whose arms
were raised in supplication. Daniel's gaze drifted up automatically,
and he just about choked back a gasp. Not prayer. Conference call.
Above the priests' heads hovered a Goa'uld communication globe.
While he was watching, the globe's filmy lead-colored surface
swirled clear, revealing the face of -

Huh?

Daniel remembered him alright. One of the fun guys he'd met
when he'd been posing as Yu's loyal and trusted servant at the last
System Lord Plot-Out. He also remembered that briefing after he'd
come back from Peflasco Blanco. Jack had got it in one, and right
now Dr. Jackson seriously considered resigning and letting Colonel
O'Neill have his job. Time to go.

Ten minutes later he shot from the temple gate, nearly colliding
with Ayzebel.

"Where have you been?" she hissed, drawing him into the
shadows under the wall.

"Sorry. Something came up. I know now who Meleq is."

"Did you not know before?" With a stem glance she added,
"You are wearing your eyeglasses."

Mechanically he reached for them, then his hand dropped.
"Doesn't matter now. I'm not going back in there, and I feel safer
seeing stuff. You said you can show me where they keep Jack?"

"It is along here."

Ayzebel led him around the building and through the forest to
the rear of the temple. They turned a corner, and Daniel squinted.
At regular intervals slim fingers of light reached out and stroked
across dry earth, roots, and pine needles. They emanated from a
row of vertical slits, maybe three inches wide and twelve high,
stretching a scant foot above the ground along the entire back of
the structure.

"These are the windows of the cells," whispered Ayzebel.

Great. There were at least twenty of them. What was he supposed
to do? Stand here and holler Jack's name until he either got an
answer or the Temple Guards came running?

Suddenly he grinned. This might work... Or not.

Note to Jackson: whistling and grinning don't mix. He dropped
the grin and slowly began to walk across those spokes of light,
whistling his heart out. Twelve windows down he hit pay dirt.

"For cryin' out loud, Daniel! The Flintstones?"

He belly-flopped. Through the narrow opening he could see
Jack peering up at the window slit. For a split-second an image
interposed itself; Jack gazing up at things far worse in another hole
of a prison... Daniel pushed it aside.

"It was supposed to be the Simpsons theme tune. How did you
know it was me?"

"Ever heard Teal'c whistle?"

Good point. "What about Sam?"

"Carter doesn't whistle in uniform."

Dr. Jackson wasn't so sure about that, but he let it slide. "How're
you doing? You okay?"

"No. Tertius squashed Senator Kinsey."

"What?"

"Whom, not what. My pet roach. I was going to race him. Great
little runner. Competitive, yet frugal. Happy to feed off garbage."

"Jack!"

"I'm fine, Daniel."

For now. "Listen, Jack, I've just been inside the temple. Looks
like -"

"Later! This is important. Best time to strike is once they've
started the ceremony. Tell Carter to hitch up with Tertius' guys.
They're -"

"I thought they were all

"You thought wrong." Jack impatiently shook his head. Next to
him another face squeezed into view. "You haven't been formally
introduced. Tertius, meet Daniel. Daniel, Tertius."

"Hi," muttered Daniel.

"Tell him, Tertius."

The man gave a crooked smile. "Your friend says he trusts
you...

Then he began rattling off explanations and directions. Every
now and then, Jack chimed in to clarify a point. With any kind of
luck, nobody would get burned tonight. Finally, Tertius pulled a
heavy gold ring off his finger and tossed it through the window at
Daniel.

"Don't lose it. When you meet my men, ask for Flavius and
show him the ring. He'll recognize it."

"You can't miss him," supplied Jack. "Thin fellow, keen sense
of smell."

Slipping the ring onto his own hand, Daniel nodded. "Thank you,
Tertius. Thanks for trusting me with this. But there's something you two don't know."

"What?" Jack frowned.

"Remember Ishta and her women? What they told us about
Moloch?"

"Extra sick Goa'uld, yeah. Burns babies and -" He cut himself
off and then softly repeated the names to himself. "Oh crap. Meleq
and Moloch, huh? Am I getting warm?"

"Birds of a feather, Jack. It's the same cult - or at least close
enough. But it gets worse."

"Worse? You're starting to ruin my day, Daniel."

"When I sniffed around the temple just now, I caught the Synod
extending their invite for your Purification to Meleq. Turns out the
guy who actually picked up the phone is Baal. Baal Meleq. It's a
name, not a title. You were right in the first -"

The breath had exploded from Jack as though somebody had
punched him in the gut, and Daniel would never have believed it
possible for anyone to go so pale and still be alive. Eyes clouded
with anguish, Jack seemed to stagger under a brutal weight. It lasted
no more than a second, then he somehow got hold of himself.

"It had to be Baal, hadn't it?" Jack whispered. "Kill him, Daniel.
Take the son of a bitch out before he can get to any of you, you
hear -"

"No!"

The furious scream came from Tertius who flung himself at
Jack, tore him off his feet. At the same moment Ayzebel touched
Daniel's back, making him start.

"A Guard patrol is coming! We have to go. Quickly, Lord
Daniel!"

"I can't -"

"Vow! Or do you wish to be caught?"

She pulled him up with surprising strength and set off into
the forest at a run. Daniel followed, his mind reeling. What was
happening? What had just happened to Jack? He didn't mean
Tertius' suddenly going berserk. Jack could handle the man, no
doubt about that. But the other thing, that desperate, gut-churning
panic in his eyes, how could he handle that? And what in God's
name had been done to him to put it there?

The last image from inside that cell pounded through Daniel's
thoughts in time with his steps. Jack falling backwards. Jack falling.
Falling, falling, falling to unseen death... like that dream. Fear and
falling. Jack, ashen-faced with pain and trying so goddamn hard
to hang on to a shred of dignity, and then that grid snapped open
behind or below him, and he fell and fell and -

Blind to where he was going, Daniel tripped over a root and
pitched forward. Ironically, it was the impact of the fall that
somehow jostled the jigsaw into place.

He'd been there. He'd been there and watched while Baal
stripped his best friend of pride, hope, humanity. Daggers and acid
corroding Jack's very soul and that indomitable will to survive,
until he fell and fell and fell to pieces, one painful bit at a time; only
to wake up in a sarcophagus, alive for hell to start over. And Daniel
had watched and listened, listened as screams mutated to animal
snarls, and he'd done nothing. The one time when flouting the
rules would have mattered, he'd obeyed. He'd offered Ascension.
Offered disembodied, spiritual existence to Jack who, sensual as a
child, lived by touching and feeling his world. Jack who, bound to
his senses and his infinite capacity to care, saw further than Daniel's
blinkered enlightenment would ever have allowed him. Jack who
refused and paid the price for who he was over and over and over
again, until he begged for that one final death.

You can put an end to it.

I won't do it.

I'd do it for you, and you know it.

And he would have. Jack would have.

Daniel pushed himself to his hands and knees and threw up
violently. Still retching, his whole body aching with horror and
grief, he came to his feet and stumbled after Ayzebel. What he
really wanted to do was curl up somewhere and howl, but that
would have to wait.

Not this time. Not again. This time Daniel would do
something.

"What the hell's the matter with you?"