06 - Siren Song (5 page)

Jack took stock. Pretty as it looked at first glance, the
ha’tak,
in
his estimation, was actually not in great shape. There was some serious scoring
on the central pyramid, and there was a lot of heavy equipment hunkered down at
the edge of the platform. He couldn’t make out much detail, but there was
definitely a sizable hole in the outer ring. He filed all this away. Sebek:
discount bin Goa’uld.

Check. But even a crappy Goa’uld was still a Goa’uld. And Jaffa by any other
name would still shoot on command. Most of the time. He exchanged a glance with
Teal’c and got a raised eyebrow in reply.

Down below, lights were coming on here and there, winking tentatively as the
sun blinked, clouds closing the valley in, and the world got a little darker and
suddenly colder. Jack zipped his jacket up to his chin and coughed out a plume
of breath.

“Atropos. Greek,” Daniel recited to no one in particular. “Along with Clothos
and Lachesis, one of the Fates who spin, measure, and cut a human being’s thread
of life.”

“Short thread, I’m guessing,” Jack added.

Aris scowled. “That’s what the Goa’uld call it. We have another name.”

“Of course,” Daniel said, looking interested. “What is it?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not ours anymore.”

Daniel’s expression bordered on sympathetic. Jack kicked him in the ankle.

It was clear what the Goa’uld saw in the place. In the flank of the mountain
on the opposite side of the valley gaped the entrance to the mine, dark,
toothless, drooling a steady stream of workers and wagons heaped with black
rock. On the next plateau down, the refinery groaned and belched fire, and the
steady thumping of the crushers stomped through Jack’s chest and made his heart
stumble. How long, he wondered, would it take for that sound to grind a guy’s
bones to dust? If he were lucky, he reasoned, the stench would kill him first.

“Nice,” Jack said sourly. The air was acrid and tasted a lot like rotten
eggs, if the eggs had been soaked in gasoline. The back of Jack’s throat was
worn raw after only a few breaths.

Beside him, Carter had a hand over her mouth and nose. “Is that sulphur?”

“It is not,” Teal’c answered. “But it is a by-product of the smelting.
Extremely toxic with long exposure.” His scowl was eloquent. “I have seen many
naquadah operations, but none on this scale,” he went on, his eyes roaming the
valley. “The devastation is extensive.”

“Your capacity for understatement never ceases to amaze,” Jack said and
turned to Aris. “Tell me again why you want to save this place?”

Aris said nothing, but as he turned to look at the city, his controlled
expression opened for a second, long enough to bring that sympathetic look back
to Daniel’s face. This time, though, Daniel had moved out of kicking range.

“It’s not the place that matters,” Aris answered finally. Jack waited for the
zinger, but it never came. Instead, Aris waved his weapon toward the mine. “That
way.”

“Great. Another mine,” Jack said. He glanced in Daniel’s direction, but
Daniel was busily looking elsewhere. Jack turned his attention Carter’s way.
“You ever get the feeling we’ve really done it all?”

“So much talking,” Aris said. “And yet, there’s nothing I want to hear you
say.” The tip of his blaster against Jack’s ribs underlined his point. It took
all Jack had not to turn around and try to rip the thing out of Aris’ hand.
Instead he set his jaw and started moving.

None of the people would meet Daniel’s eyes.

This was the first thing he noticed; the second was the fact that all of them
looked hungry. Not starved, but not well-fed. As he made his way down through
the dark mine shaft beside Teal’c, pebbles slipped out from beneath their feet
like a rolling carpet, making each step uncertain. He stuck his arms out for
balance, but didn’t take his eyes off the endless stream of workers filing out
of the mine.

“Teal’c,” he said, under his breath. Teal’c turned his head slightly, but
didn’t speak. “Are they all slaves?”

“It would appear so,” Teal’c answered. He watched the parade of men, women,
and children in threadbare clothes for a moment, then said, “It is clear the
Goa’uld do not care if these people die in the mines. They do not intend to take
them as hosts.”

Daniel skidded to a stop; Sam crashed into him, nearly knocking him headlong
down the hill. Teal’c’s hand on his arm steadied him. He looked back at Aris.
“You said it isn’t the place that matters. You mean it’s the people that matter, don’t you? It’s not about profit.”

“Still talking,” Aris said.

“I stop when I hear answers,” Daniel said.

“You’ll stop when I say stop.”

“Good luck with that,” Jack said to Aris. “Threatening to shoot him doesn’t
work, either.”

“Nice,” Daniel said. Jack ignored him. Daniel directed another question to
Aris. “But what do you need us for? We can’t do anything for you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Aris took a long, appraising look at Daniel.
“You and Major Carter over there have what I need.”

Daniel glanced back at Jack, whose face was closed, his lips pressed hard
together. “Care to elaborate?” Daniel asked. Jack moved a little closer, and
Aris twisted sideways so Jack was in front of him rather than behind.

“You’re a linguist, Doctor. A translator. Major Carter here knows math. But
none of this will be of any use to you if I have to kill you for not shutting
up. Now move.”

“You won’t kill us if you need us,” Daniel began, but as soon as he said it,
he realized his mistake.

Aris pointed the gun at Jack, then at Teal’c. Eyes on Daniel, he agreed,
“True.”

“Right.” Daniel nodded slowly and turned back toward the path down into the
mountain. He didn’t look at Jack, but said in a low voice, “Maybe Sebek was
exiled here. That would explain why Yu was so quiet about it.” Ahead, a
bedraggled woman raised her eyes to his, and curiosity compelled him to hold her
gaze until she looked away.

“Perhaps Yu considered death too good for his enemies,” Teal’c said. “It is
not unusual for a minor Goa’uld to be sent to a world of living death for
punishment.”

“Indentured and sent off to a crappy planet,” Jack said. “Sounds about
right.”

“Crappy planet” was really a bit of an understatement, Daniel decided.
“Hellhole” was maybe more accurate. They left the main tunnel for a narrower
branch that angled, if anything, even more steeply downward, then another and another, until Daniel could feel the whole
weight of the mountain on his head. The acrid air inside the mine was thick and
heavy with dust that dimmed the lanterns and coated all exposed surfaces. The
workers who labored upward past them were shadowed with it, their eyes dull
white and the round circles of panting mouths shockingly pink in dust-dark
faces. It was even colder in there than it was outside, as though all the
winters since the mine was opened had settled into the stone. Bones would
feel
like stone before long in there. A mind could die before a body did,
with nothing to stare at but black stone and dust, or the back of the person
ahead, or one’s own feet pacing the same path over and over.

A contingent of six Jaffa came up behind Daniel and the team, and the
straggle of slaves shrank back against the wall, all eyes averted. After they’d
passed, Daniel caught one or two of the slaves making a sharp, snapping gesture
with their fingers, but seeing him, they dropped their hands and their
expressions of hatred fell away, replaced by that blank dullness, empty despair.
Somehow, he was encouraged. A glance over his shoulder showed him that Aris kept
his own eyes straight ahead or on his own prisoners as if the slaves weren’t
there, three feet away from him. He paid no attention when one bowed old woman
trailed her fingers across his armored thigh as he passed.

They trudged on. And on. After a few more turnings, there were no more
slaves. The air was a bit clearer here, but the darkness between the light
sconces seemed more oppressive. Daniel shortened his pace a little to come
closer to Jack.

Finally, Aris stopped before a poorly lit chamber. “In here.”

Daniel ducked his head and moved down a short ramp into the large open room.
Three walls were the same dark rock as the rest of the mine, but directly ahead,
a single slab of metal rose from the floor of the cave to the ceiling. Man-made,
definitely, and covered with symbols—simple glyphs. In spite of himself, a
thrill of anticipation rose in his gut. Something new, something he hadn’t seen
before, or looked for; something he hadn’t known existed. He stared, fascinated,
at the tiny symbols.

“Do you know what it is?” Aris asked him.

Daniel could feel the others moving closer behind him, but he had eyes only
for the glyphs. “I have no idea,” he said and smiled a little. It was another
way of saying that he’d know soon enough. All translations were puzzles, made
just for him. Jack’s hand on his shoulder interrupted that thought, and he
turned away, reluctantly. “It’s… obscure,” he said, in response to Jack’s
telegraphed warning. Of course he wasn’t going to give anything away. “I don’t
recognize it.”

“That’s too bad, because the price of your freedom is an open door.” Aris
settled himself on a rock beside the door, one hand resting casually on his
weapon. At his feet were signs of excavation, like someone had been digging
around and later refilled the hole.

“Why is it so important?” Sam asked.

Aris leaned back, opened his mouth to answer. Then, as if he thought better
of it, he paused. He glanced up at the door, and his expression changed subtly
before he said, “If you can’t open that door, my people are going to die. All of
them.”

“Why?” Daniel asked softly.

“Sebek wants whatever is in there. But,” Aris indicated the door with the
muzzle of his blaster, “he can’t get to it.”

“And he’s taking it out on your people,” Jack said sourly.

“Yes.” There were shadows in Aris’ eyes, and for a brief moment Daniel felt
sorry for him.

Aris took a breath, then reached to his belt for a tiny packet of blue
roshna. He emptied it into his canteen. “Major Carter, I don’t suppose you found
a way to break the cycle with this. Did you?”

Sam’s face was pale. “We worked on the sample you gave me but didn’t have
much luck.”

With a shrug, Aris said. “Fair enough. At least you tried.” Still, in spite
of his response, his eyes were shrewd when he shifted them to Daniel.

Daniel knew he didn’t have to point out that their focus had not been on
helping Aris but on figuring out if the roshna he and his people were addicted
to also was responsible for their resistance to Goa’uld implantation. Thinking
about it gave him a vaguely bitter taste in the back of his mouth. One more compromise they’d made over the
years, one more opportunity they’d seized.

Aris upended the canteen and downed the contents, then wiped his mouth with
the back of his hand. “Sebek doesn’t like it when things don’t go his way. It’s
making him crazy.”

“How can you tell?” Jack said. “Is it the bombastic ranting or the penchant
for gold loincloths?”

“None of his scientists could break into it, so he had them all killed.
Ripped their hearts out, right here on the floor.”

Daniel glanced down. Nothing under his feet but black rock. “That’s… not
comforting,” he said.

With the canteen, Aris tapped the metal door, producing a hollow ring that
echoed through the chamber. “Either you’ll get into this thing for me, or I’ll
find another use for you.”

The symmetrical patterns seemed vaguely familiar to Daniel—matched figures
stretching the length of the door, slightly off-center—but he couldn’t make a
connection. “There are still some gaps in my memory. Without my translation
tools, I may not be able to help.”

“Oh, you’ll be of use to me.” Aris leaned forward, his brown-golden eyes
black in the dimness. “You’ll open the door, or I’ll trade you for roshna.
Either way, you’ll serve a purpose.”

Daniel nodded, but he looked to Jack, who was the final decision-maker in
this arena, no matter whose gun was on them or what options Daniel might think
they needed to pursue. They couldn’t speak freely, at this point, and he had no
alternatives in mind. Jack might, but he’d have to wait for his opportunity to
arise. Jack was staring at Aris with a thinly veiled hatred, bold enough to make
Daniel clear his throat for attention. Even with that unspoken signal, it took
several more seconds for Jack to shift his gaze to Daniel. “I might be able to
help,” Daniel offered, not at all certain it was true.

Without a word, Jack gestured up at the door with one hand, then dropped his
arm to his side in disgust. Tacit permission to proceed.

All the way across the door, lines of glyphs repeated, dancing and taunting
Daniel. He traced them with his fingertips, waiting for them to tell him what he needed to know to identify them. Deep imprints,
stamped into metal, uniform and strong. It was a bold language. He followed the
line of symbols to the right, letting touch lead him.

“There’s a mechanism here,” Sam said. She was scouting around on the right
edge of the door. “Maybe some way to open the door, with this.”

“We’ve tried that,” Aris said. “If it ever worked, it doesn’t now.”

Daniel’s fingers ran off the edge of his canvas and into something more
familiar. He pointed at the inscription in front of his face. “I don’t know what
the rest of this is, but that’s Ancient.”

“Great,” Jack muttered.

“Are you able to translate this, Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c asked.

“More or less.” Daniel turned to them. “It says, ‘He who is locked in here
shall die’.”

“I’m guessing that means ‘do not open’,” Jack said.

When Daniel met Jack’s eyes, he read the change of plan clearly:
No more.
Shut up.

Apparently Aris saw it too, because he growled, “I don’t need a genius
linguist to tell me that a locked door means ‘keep out’.” In one fluid movement
he rose and grabbed Jack by the wrist. The gun to the side of Jack’s head, he
twisted Jack’s arm behind him, straight out, and bent Jack’s wrist with his
thumb in the middle of his hand so that Jack’s fingers splayed and he sank to
his knees. Dexterously shifting his grip, he pinned a little finger and started
to bend it back. Jack winced once before his expression went stony.