Stargate SG-1: Trial by Fire: SG1-1 (31 page)

Tertius' tackle had knocked him backwards onto the floor. His butt had broken the fall, and it wasn't at all happy about the state of
affairs.

"Traitor!"

This was getting so old. First the kid and now -

The backhanded blow caught him across the mouth, and he knew
he'd just split a lip. Maybe he should do nothing. Compared to the
alternative, death by Tertius seemed positively idyllic. But then he'd
never get an answer.

We're a very curious race.

In every sense of the word.

Tertius was straddling him, shins pinning down Jack's arms, and
he was getting ready for the next blow, way too angry to think things
through. Jack jerked one knee up as hard as he could, slamming into
the man's back. The forward slump was exactly what he'd hoped
for, and he met it halfway with a brisk head-butt. The daily crunches
weren't just vanity. He heard a broken-nosed snap, and Tertius yelped
and lost track for a moment, long enough for Jack to yank his hands
free and follow up with a spirited right hook. It did the job. Tertius
went out like a light.

Grunting, he crawled out from under his opponent and settled in
a comer of the cell. Trying to regroup was the first order of business.
His gaze drifted up to the window of its own accord. Daniel was
gone. But he'd be back. Just as before. That vital, intangible crutch
that had safeguarded Jack's sanity. Or what passed for it.

He wasn't alone.

A groan confirmed that thought. Tertius was coming round,
clutching his nose with bloody fingers. Definitely broken. Maybe
it'd cool him down a little... Nope. As soon as he clapped eyes on
Jack, he lurched towards him on all fours. Jack shot from his corner,
knocked him over like a house of cards, and held him down.

"Will you can it? How about a deal? You tell me what exactly
I've done to piss you off, and if I agree you get to beat the crap out
of me. I'd just like to know. Okay?" He let go, scooted out of reach,
and waited.

Tertius rolled on his back, looking like Snoopy after a week-long
bender, and balefully glared at Jack. "Traitor!"

"Yeah, you said that. Care to expand?"

"You seek to destroy Baal, the enemy of all evil."

"I thought that was Mithras."

"Baal is Ahura-Mazda, the creator of all that lives. The creator of
Mithras."

Excuse him for losing the plot. The Meleq/Moloch/Baal thing had
just about made sense, in an everybody's dancing around the Golden
Calf kind of way. But Jack couldn't for the life of him figure out
how Acura-Mitsubishi fit into this story. Patron saint of fuel-efficient
cars? His head was beginning to hurt nearly as much as his ass.

"Look, Tertius, I -"

"I trusted you with our secrets, and you seek to destroy what we
believe in!"

"No! If I destroyed that, I'd have nothing left to believe in myself.
All that stuff you talked about - truth and honoring a trust and trying
to live your life in a way that lets you sleep at night - it's important
to me too."

Eloquent, O'Neill. Silver-tongued. Why couldn't Daniel have
stayed five minutes longer?

"Then why do you seek to destroy Baal? Ahura-Mazda is the
universal good!"

Oh yeah! "The hell he is! Don't you get it, Tertius? Baal is a false
god! As false as Meleq. He is Meleq!"

"You're lying!" But it sounded brittle, hairline cracks breaking
along the fringes of conviction.

Jack edged closer, held Tertius' eyes. "No, I'm not. I've never
lied to you, even when I could have. If we're to get out of this, you'll
have to trust me."

"Why should I?"

This was going around in circles. Short of whacking the guy
upside the head with a clue-by-four, there was only one way... Jack
awkwardly came to his feet and turned to the window, as though
Daniel might miraculously reappear and do it for him. No such luck.
Besides, Daniel didn't remember.

"I knew this man," he said softly. Maybe, if he pretended it had
happened to someone else...

"What man?"

"He got sick. Really sick. And so..."

And so it began. It ended with this man beating one of his jailers
to a pulp, even while hating himself for how good it felt. This man
had changed, become less human somehow, and noone, including
himself, really knew if it could ever be undone.

Jack fell silent and realized that he was shaking. He hadn't looked
at Tertius once, and Tertius hadn't made a sound. Perhaps he'd fallen
asleep. That thought seemed uproariously funny all of a sudden.
Imagine they gave a confession and nobody listened. Arms wrapped
tightly around his waist, he doubled over, sobbing with laughter.
Until two hands grabbed his shoulders, spun him around, and shook
him roughly.

"Stop it! Stop it!"

He froze, hysteria receding as quickly as it had pounced. "I
thought you were asleep."

"Of course I wasn't. Why didn't... Baal... believe you? You'd
told him the truth."

"Who says it was me?"

"Do you think I'm a fool, Deodatus?" For the first time since this
little fracas had started, Tertius grinned. It looked pretty dreadful.

"No. Sony `bout the nose, by the way."

"It was my own fault. Gnaeus' account of your skills should have
warned me." He released Jack's shoulders and sat down. "So why
didn't he believe you?"

"He..." Jack stared at the window again, thinking that, having
talked about it, he should feel better. That's what the shrinks claimed,
right? He didn't. "Baal was having a ball, pardon the pun. He was
enjoying every minute of it."

Through the silence that followed, he could hear the busy scratch
of cicadas and the rustle of dry grass and needles as little animals
scampered past outside, hunting for food or a mate or simply running
away. Running away seemed like a great idea.

"The legends say that Baal took our ancestors from the old world
and brought them here so they would be safe from the Tyreans with
whom they were at war many hundreds of years ago," Tertius blurted
at last. "But we're not safe, are we? The Tyreans still pursue us."

"And they tell the tale exactly the other way round," replied Jack,
recalling that weird briefing with Kandaulo in Hamilgart's patio.

"What do you mean?"

"They say they were here first and you pursued them."

"But that isn't..." Wry puzzlement spread around the broken
nose. "Which version is true?"

"Both. Neither. Baal likes playing games. He set you up. You and
the Tyreans."

Jack delivered a kick at the food bowl that still sat upside down
over the cockroach carcass. Nicely greased by the slop, it zipped
across the flagstones and crashed into a comer. That son of a bitch
had taken those people and set them against each other in a religious
war. For thrills. Like throwing two terriers in a pit and placing bets
on who would bite whom to death first. It explained why the planet's
coordinates weren't on the Abydos Cartouche. His Lordship had kept
the personal sandbox very private. Somebody else butting in on the
recreational slaughter might upset the balance and wreck the fun.

"Whom are we supposed to believe in now?" murmured Tertius.

Yeah. There was that, too, and Jack honestly couldn't tell which
was worse.

"How about yourselves?" he asked gently. "What you made of
the teachings of Mithras isn't wrong. It's right. You're good folks,
and you're a good man, Tertius."

"So are you, my friend."

Feeling a hundredyears old, Jack slid onto a stone bench, stretched
out, and turned to the wall. "Try and grab some sleep."

"Deodatus?"

"What?'

"Don't belittle yourself. What you went through hasn't made you
less human. On the contrary. You may wish to contemplate that."

Intriguing concept, but right now he would have infinitely
preferred contemplating a bottle of bourbon until it was dry.

he question foremost in Teal'c's mind was how O'Neill had
taken the news. Daniel Jackson had glossed over that part, but
then, he was unaware of its significance.

Darkness prevented the Jaffa from seeing his friend's face
distinctly. Yet scrutiny might be deemed intrusive, and he doubted
that the young man looked healthier now than he had upon his
return two hours ago. Teal'c had thought he detected the faint acidic
smell of vomit, but Daniel Jackson had not mentioned any episode
of sickness. In fact, apart from delivering an abnormally succinct
report on his discovery at the temple and the information he had
received from O'Neill and Tertius, he had not uttered a word.

Casually the Jaffa slowed his pace until he walked abreast with
Daniel Jackson. His approach seemed to provoke the desired effect,
although not quite in the way he had expected.

"Teal'c, why was Jack so keen on me joining SG-1 again? Why
didn't he just leave me on Vis Uban?"

The nature of this query put Teal'c on his guard. "O'Neill
considers you a close friend and a valuable member of his team.
Is it not likely that he would have wished for you to resume your
duties?"

"No! I... Iremember, Teal'c."

"What precisely is it that you remember?"

"Stop tap-dancing around me, dammit! I was there! You hear
what I'm saying? I know what Baal did to Jack. I suppose you
could call me an immaterial witness."

This hapless attempt at humor failed to dupe even Teal'c, who
inadvertently lost his stride. It was possible. While still ascended,
Daniel Jackson had witnessed Rya'c and Master Bra'tac's capture
on Erebus. And he had been unable to intervene. Now the Jaffa
understood. This was most unfortunate.

"I am truly sorry, Daniel-"

"Do you realize that he asked me to kill him? Make it so the
sarcophagus couldn't revive him? Of course I didn't. I didn't... do anything."

"Have you not told us that to interfere would have meant to play
god, much like the Goa'uld do?"

"I was wrong! Not to interfere is to play god in exactly the
same way. I'm still making a choice. I'm still influencing." Daniel
Jackson exhaled harshly and lowered his voice. "A man called
Edmond Burke once said, The only thing necessary for the triumph
of evil is for good men to do nothing."

After this he fell quiet, as though unwilling to continue their
conversation. The path took a sharp turn, and Teal'c concentrated
on his footing.

Eventually he said, "Neither Major Carter nor myself were
aware that you had been... present at the time, Daniel Jackson."

It was the young man's turn to falter in his step. "You mean Jack
never told you?"

"He did not."

"But why?"

"That is a question you shall have to discuss with O'Neill."

"If he lets me."

"Indeed." Teal'c walked on in silence for several moments, then
he added, "In the meantime, however, there is one point you may
wish to consider."

"Which is?"

"If O'Neill truly felt you had failed him, you would still be
inhabiting a nomad tent."

"Oh.."

Ahead, Major Carter and Professor Kelly had reached a moonlit
glade and waited for them to catch up. From somewhere below
came the rhythmic swishing of surf, and through the trees Teal'c
could make out the pale glimmer of the sea. They could not be far
from the location Tertius had indicated to Daniel Jackson. It was
an inlet two kilometers west of the cove that had been the landing
point for the original raid on the temple.

"We're getting close," Major Carter confirmed softly. "I suggest
we lose the camouflage. Might give the wrong impression. You can
stay as you are, Professor."

Quite possibly she was implying that Professor Kelly would create the wrong impression in any attire. They all had worn Tyrean
garments to pass through the city unnoticed and to conceal their
uniforms and weapons. Now the three members of SG-1 divested
themselves of the robes, as they were unlikely to facilitate relations
with the Phrygians - or the Romans, as the Professor insisted.

Daniel Jackson gathered the cloaks, balled them to a tight
bundle, and stowed them beneath a bush. As he straightened up,
Major Carter fixed him with a pointed stare.