In the Name of Science - by Pho
part - 01
Janet Frasier glared at the medical report in her hand. Of all the stupid, stupid things to happen. So absolutely preventable. And now... "Airman Ramirez."
"Yes Ma'am?" The girl's brown eyes watched the doctor with mild concern as the older woman approached.
"Well, Airman, you don't have the flu."
"Th..then why do I feel so bad? I'm tired all the time." There was now nothing short of fear in the young linguist's eyes. Her voice rose in panic. "I don't have c..cancer, do I? Please Dr. Frasier, what's wrong with me?"
"Whoa, Naomi, you don't have cancer." Janet smiled as the girl breathed a sigh of relief.
"Then what?"
Janet took a deep breath. Sometimes she really hated this job. "Naomi, do you have a steady boyfriend?"
"Yes Ma'am. Brad Jacobs. He runs a garage in town."
Janet mentally thanked the powers that be that the young airman was not involved with anyone on her SG-11 team. "Naomi, there's no easy way to say this. You're pregnant."
The young woman's eyes widened in combined shock, fear and what Janet thought might be delight. "W..What?"
"You're pregnant. About eight weeks along."
"Two months? But...but, I don't understand."
Janet sighed in resignation. Why was it that some of the most promising young women were so damned naïve? "When did you stop taking the pill?"
"I haven't. Every morning. Like clockwork."
Janet just looked at her.
"Honest, Doctor, I never miss them. Getting pregnant is not something I want, uh, wanted to do."
"Well, you've done it. As you're aware, gate travel is strictly off limits to pregnant personnel. Therefore you're off SG-11, unless of course you choose to have an abortion."
"A..abortion? You mean kill my baby? Brad's baby? Oh, no Ma'am, I couldn't do that."
"Very well. I'll have to notify Major Armstrong that he'll need a temporary replacement for you. Do you want to tell him why or should I?"
"I..I'll do it Ma'am."
"Fine. You can get dressed now." Janet patted her arm and watched as the young woman slid off the table. "After you dress, come to my office, we'll discuss diet, exercise, that sort of thing."
"Yes, Ma'am." As she reached for her clothes, the young woman never saw the doctor leave.
**********
Daniel leaned back in his chair and groaned. He'd tried everything he could think of, and the translation still eluded him. In an uncharacteristic show of temper, he hurled his pencil across the lab.
"Still can't get it, eh, Daniel?"
The young archaeologist sat bolt upright in his chair, then relaxed, blushing with embarrassment. "Oh, hi Sam. Actually, I'm about out of ideas."
"That doesn't sound like the Daniel Jackson I know, the one with linguistic credentials strewn out behind him like a banner."
"Yeah, well, I'd give up the credentials for a Rosetta stone into this language." He looked closely at his friend. "Sam, are you feeling okay? You're looking kinda pale, and you're awfully sweaty."
She smiled wanly. "I think I'm coming down with something. I've been feeling kind of nauseous for a couple of days now."
Daniel frowned. "Better let Janet check you out."
Samantha Carter shook her head. "No need, yet. Besides, she's overloaded right now, what with SG-8 getting caught in that rock slide. And remember, SG-1's on stand down while the Colonel helps General Hammond with the annual budget reports. So I figure that I've got at least a week to recover from whatever it is before we go off world again."
**********
Colonel Jack O'Neill sat across from General George Hammond, glumly staring at the SGC budget reports. God, he hated these things, but this year Hammond had insisted that Jack be part of the entire budget process, rather than supplying information only on SG-1's upcoming needs. Okay, maybe SG-1 did tend to be a trifle harder on supplies and equipment than the other SG teams, but what did the brass expect? After all, SG-1 was the first contact team. Things were bound to go wrong at least some of the time. Shit! What'd he give to be sparring, Jaffa style, with Teal'c in the gym, watching Carter test her latest enhancements to the UAV, listening to Daniel explain the difference between Linear A and... He paused, okay, maybe not that but still... Good grief, when had he even started to know what Linear A was?
"*Colonel O'Neill!*" The General's icy tones cut through the younger man's thoughts.
Oooops. "Sir?"
"I've called you three times, *Colonel*."
Shit! "Sorry, sir. My mind was elsewhere. It won't happen again."
"*Fine.*" Hammond threw his best 'commander's glare' at O'Neill, who squirmed slightly, in spite of himself. Satisfied that he had the younger man's undivided attention, Hammond continued. "Hand me the expenditure folders from the..."
A knock on the door caused Hammond's brow to furrow deeply, and Jack to breathe a sigh of relief. Hammond's loud "Come!" intensified the headache the Colonel was developing. He'd really have to see Dr. Frasier soon. Speak of the devil. The door opened to admit Janet Frasier. O'Neill smothered a grin as he watched the woman as she realized what she'd interrupted. Her face quickly covered her discomfiture, and he frowned for the first time as he saw what could only be anger in her pretty features. He glanced at Hammond, and knew instantly that the senior officer had also noticed. "Doctor?"
She took a deep breath, as she glanced at the budget reports on Hammond's desk. As head of the medical department, she was responsible for one of the reports plaguing the General, and O'Neill. "I'm sorry to interrupt, General. I know what this time of year is like for you."
"Get on with it, Doctor."
"Yes, sir." She glanced at Jack for a moment. "General, Colonel, we have what I think amounts to a major problem."
Jack's boredom died. Frasier was not usually one to be an alarmist. He noticed that Hammond was also sitting up straighter in his chair. "Exactly what are you talking about, Doctor?"
"I've had a few cases of flu-like symptoms, in the past seventy-two hours, and I've ordered additional tests but..."
"What constitutes a 'few', Doctor?" O'Neill asked quickly.
"Well, sir, only three, but..."
Hammond glared at the woman. "You're trying to tell me that we're starting another round of flu season?"
"No, sir. If you'll let me finish..."
"Go ahead."
Janet glanced helplessly at Jack for a moment. "Sir, there's no easy way to say it. The three cases are all experienced female SG team members, and, sir, they're all pregnant."
Twin "what's" rang out from both Hammond and O'Neill.
The pretty doctor nodded. "Yes, sirs. As you're both aware, all female SG team personnel are required to take birth control pills unless there's a medical reason not to."
Hammond glared angrily. "What you're saying is that three of my female team members have ignored this rule, and are now pregnant?" The anger in his voice made Janet pale slightly. Jack, however, sympathized with the man. It was annual budget time which was bad enough, but now three of his people had ignored orders, gotten pregnant and would have to be replaced on their working teams. There simply weren't enough qualified personnel on staff to replace three team members easily.
Janet shook her head. "No, sir, that's not what I'm saying."
Hammond interrupted. "But you said..."
"Let me finish, please sir. One, I might have said yes. Two, maybe. But three. No, sir. All three swear they've been taking the pill religiously. So I had them bring the pills in." Her face was grim. "I've ordered mandatory pregnancy testing for all female personnel."
Jack felt a cold shiver go up his spine. "Why?"
"Sirs, their pills were fakes, placebos if you will."
"Fakes, how?" Hammond was puzzled. "Wouldn't they have known?"
"No, sir. They were cleverly disguised as the real thing. Sir, every birth control packet in the pharmacy is fake. I don't know how long this has been happening, but it's definitely deliberate. Someone is playing a very dangerous game with the women of the SGC, particularly those who travel through the Stargate."
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part - 02 ↑
Hammond's anger had not dissipated, merely moved on to a new target, someone was messing with *his* people. *That* could not, would not be tolerated. "Fakes. How is that possible Doctor?"
"I don't know, sir. It shouldn't *be* possible."
"What exactly are we looking at, Doctor?"
"For the female team members there's the obvious, an unplanned pregnancy. That in itself is enough of a shock. Then there's the decision to carry the fetus to full term, or have an abortion. Either way, major psychological trauma. Then there are all the potential combinations of health problems that can occur during pregnancy..."
"Cut to the chase, Doctor. I have grown daughters. I'm familiar with the basics."
"Yes, sir. What I'm really worried about is the effect of Gate travel on a fetus. You've been through the Gate, General, you're aware of the stress it places on the human body."
"You're talking birth defects." O'Neill's eyes narrowed in anger.
"Yes, sir, then there's all sorts of potential unknown effects just from being off world. Air, water, food that are okay for our consumption may have an adverse impact on a developing fetus."
Hammond looked grave. "The three pregnant women, have they decided what they'll do?"
"One definitely wants the baby, the other two are undecided."
"I see..." The General was interrupted by the klaxons and the announcement. "Incoming traveler."
His hand hit the intercom. "Identification, Airman?"
"SG-6, sir. They're two days early."
"On my way." Hammond moved with a speed that was surprising for a man of his age, and size, O'Neill and Frasier on his heels.
*********
The knock on the door coincided with a tall, thin man bursting into the room. "Sir, it's happened."
The older man sitting behind the desk glanced up from the report he was reading. "Well? It was *supposed* to happen. How many?"
"Three, so far. Frasier's ordering tests on all the women. More are bound to turn up."
"We can only hope. I assume those are their medical records?" He held out his hand for the charts.
"Oh, yes, sir." The younger man passed the folders to his superior.
The three reports were scanned briefly. "Excellent beginning. Are all three on stand down?"
"Yes, sir, *and* they've gone home for a long weekend."
"Now, the sixty-four thousand dollar question, are any of them *ours*?"
"One, so far, sir."
"But not..."
"No, sir.
"Pity. And?"
"Everything is on schedule."
"Make certain it stays that way."
*********
The Stargate energy stream surged down the ramp. No sooner had it settled than a man emerged, carrying a woman in his arms. "MEDIC!" Lieutenant Commander Mark Mallory's voice filled the Stargate chamber. The former Seal went to his knees, gently lowering the Air Force Captain to the floor at the bottom of the ramp. She was clasping her abdomen in obvious discomfort. "Easy, Captain. Help's on the way."
Janet Frasier dropped to her knees beside the woman. "What happened?"
Captain Susan Jeffreys grimaced as she tried to speak. "Hurts. Oh, GOD!" She doubled over in agony.
The rest of SG-6 was now on the ramp. They came to stand behind their commander. Mallory responded for the woman. "Abdominal pains started a few hours ago. She thought it was something she'd eaten. She didn't want to jeopardize our negotiations for mining rights so she played the martyr, until they got so bad she couldn't stand upright. I thought appendicitis, but she said, no, she'd had that. Doctor, what's wrong?"
The orderlies arrived in the gate room as Janet finished her once over of the extremely ill woman. Her orders were crisp, as they gently lifted the young woman to the gurney. "I need an abdominal ultrasound, and a serum pregnancy test on Captain Jeffreys. Stat!" The medical team, and patient disappeared through the double doors.
Mark Mallory ran his hands through his hair. He turned confused gray eyes to face the higher ranking officers. "Did she say pregnancy test? Tell me she didn't. Su..Captain Jeffreys couldn't be pregnant. Could she?"
Hammond's face was grave. "She just might be, son. She just might be."
"Good Lord! How? I mean I know how, but *how*?" Mallory and the rest of his team were obviously shell-shocked. Suddenly realizing he was addressing not one but two senior officers, the Lt. Commander pulled himself to attention. "Sorry, sirs. Request permission for my team to go to the infirmary."
Hammond spoke quietly. "Granted. We'll postpone the mission debriefing until Captain Jeffreys' condition stabilizes." Hammond returned the younger man's salute and left the gate room.
Mallory motioned his men to leave, then looked at Jack. "Colonel, what's going on? Pregnant is just, just..."
Jack put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "It'll be explained later, Commander. Right now, get down to the infirmary. You won't relax until you see she's okay."
Mallory studied the older man solemnly. "Been there, done that, eh Colonel?"
"Too damn often. Now go!"
Jack O'Neill watched the younger man disappear through the doors, then turned to follow the General.
*********
"You want to do a *what*?" A furious Samantha Carter stood, hands on hips, in the center of SGC's infirmary, glaring at the young nurse. "Not no, but hell, no."
"Ma'am, please. I...it isn't voluntary. Dr. Frasier has ordered pregnancy tests for every woman on the base." Julia Mitchell spoke nervously as she delivered her superior's news to the Air Force Major.
Sam forced herself to calm down. The young nurse was only following her orders, besides, Sam told herself, she was just too damned tired to argue. "Fine, get on with it."
A noise from the door to the infirmary drew both pairs of eyes in that direction. "Mitchell, forget the testing. Doctor Frasier needs you in OR."
Julia instantly moved for the door. "What's up?"
"Emergency surgery, heavy internal bleeding. I'm to bring 3 units of B negative blood."
The young woman broke into a run as she left the infirmary.
Sam stared in astonishment at the new arrival, who was moving toward the refrigeration units. "What... how..., I mean, who's in OR?" Astonishment turned to horror as the nurse responded.
"Susan Jeffreys of SG-6."
"SG-6 is off world."
"Not anymore." The woman had the blood and was once again crossing the room.
"But..., but how badly was she injured?"
"Ma'am, I don't have time for twenty questions. Two words, ectopic pregnancy."
Sam's mouth dropped open as the nurse vanished into the hall.
*********
Naomi Ramirez slammed down the stop button on her answering machine. Okay, sure, she was supposed to be on duty all weekend, but damn him. Fishing! She was carrying his child and he'd gone fishing with his friends. How dare he! She'd left him a message that she'd gotten some time off. Surely he'd heard it. She needed him here, now, not tomorrow evening. Damn! Her sudden laughter cut through the stillness of her apartment. God, she was being stupid. He'd be home tomorrow night and she could tell him then. Her thoughts raced as she planned the evening. She'd cook his favorite dinner, and maybe, just maybe pout a little because he hadn't been around. Then when he was thoroughly contrite, she'd hit him with her news. Yes, that was the way to play it. The young airman's thoughts were interrupted by her doorbell. Her mood brightened further. Brad! He'd gotten her message after all. Throwing open the door, her greeting died on her lips as the stranger in the entry took control of first her body, then her mind. Her eyes turned into narrow slits, then closed completely as the injection she'd been given rapidly took hold.
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part - 03 ↑
George Hammond sank silently into his office chair and stared at the phone. A brief knock on the door drew his attention. "Come."
Jack O'Neill walked quickly into the room. "General."
"Yes, Colonel, what can I do for you?"
"Sir, have you contacted anyone on the pill switch yet?"
"No. I was sitting here trying to figure out who to call."
Jack grinned wryly. "Should have known that you'd see the problem. Who do you call, when you're not certain who to trust."
Hammond's glare faded as he really looked at the Colonel. "Ah, but I do know who to trust, Colonel."
O'Neill didn't quite understand why, but a cold chill sped up his spine as the General spoke.
**********
SG-6 rose as a unit as Janet Frasier wearily entered what passed for a waiting room in SGC. Mark Mallory's gray eyes were filled with concern as he stared down at the petite doctor. "Doctor Frasier?"
"Ectopic pregnancy, Commander. Captain Jeffreys has been bleeding internally for quite some time. We gave her three units of blood."
"I don't understand. Ectopic pregnancy? What happened?"
Janet sighed as she pulled the surgical cap from her head. "An ectopic pregnancy is one in which the fetus develops outside the uterus. In most cases, like the Captain's, the fetus begins to grow in a fallopian tube. It gets too large..."
"And the tube ruptures." Mark finished the sentence for her. "I, we knew she was in pain, but..."
"She was very lucky, and very foolish." Janet responded severely. "Another hour or so and I would not have been able to save her. She would have bled to death."
"But she'll recover?"
"Yes." She looked at the ragged expressions on the three men. "Gentlemen, I suggest you get some rest." Without waiting for a reply, she left the room, once again heading for Hammond's office.
**********
Three frightened, angry women awakened to find themselves in the dark, figuratively, and in reality. Worse, each thought herself to be the only victim, isolated as they were in separate, soundproof cells. Naomi Ramirez sat hunched on the solitary cot, her arms wrapped around her knees, her head dropped onto them in despair. The sound of the door opening caused her head to shoot up. The light from the hall blinded her as two shadowy figures came to stand in the doorway. She shielded her eyes in a desperate attempt to see something, anything, but to no avail. As the silent figures approached, she slid back against the wall, her heart racing wildly in her chest.
The glass observation deck was occupied by three observers as the struggling young woman was dragged into the all-purpose medical room below. A gloved physician spoke from behind his mask. "Administer the sedative, I can't work with her fighting me like this."
Her frantic "Nooo" died on her lips as a hypodermic found its mark. She watched horrified as the liquid pumped into her system. As the plunger hit its mark, her eyes closed and the man holding her easily lifted her onto the table as she folded.
The intercom crackled to life. "Doctor. This is one of 'ours', make sure the fetus remains undamaged."
"Yes, sir. This one we're taking a baseline only. Standard tests at eight weeks."
The older man in the booth checked his notes. "What are your plans for the other two women, doctor?"
The man below could not contain the excitement in his tone. "This is a marvelous scientific opportunity to study the effects of Gate travel on the human body. One woman is in her ninth week, the other in her fourth. I plan to terminate the nine week fetus for study. The other will be baselined for right now. I don't want to terminate it in case none of the other implantations took."
"Fine, Doctor. Just make sure nothing happens to *our* fetus." The intercom clicked off as the man below nodded his understanding. The older man in the observation booth watched the preparations below for a short moment, then rose to leave the room. Motioning one of his aides to his side, he issued his orders. "After the good doctor is finished with the abortion, terminate the woman, and make sure it looks like an accident."
"Understood, sir. With your permission, I'll make the necessary arrangements now."
The older man nodded his consent then turned to his other aide. "About our problem?"
"The appropriate substitution's been made and delivered to SGC. My information says that the task should be completed before the weekend is over."
"Make certain it happens. I don't like loose ends, and do not forget, the threat from that end is very, very real."
"Yes, sir."
**********
Daniel Jackson had given up, for the time being. The text had lain, unread, for millennia, what would a few more hours hurt? Besides, he was out of antihistamines. Might as well take a break and fill that new prescription Janet had given him. The doctors at the local Air Force hospital had convinced her it would do the trick better than his current prescription. Some sort of wonder drug, she'd said skeptically, but if it worked as promised, he'd be able to cut out some of the pills he was forced to take. He really hoped so. Having to choose between being a slave to allergies or a slave to antihistamines was the pits. Reaching the dispensary, he was surprised to find no one in sight. He rang the bell, and was relieved to see Lt. Harry Chambers pop out of the storeroom. "Hi, Dr. Jackson, what'ya need this time?"
"A refill on antihistamines, Lieutenant."
"Sure thing, same type I suppose." He picked the script up off of the counter. "Whoa, Frasier changed it to that new drug. You're in luck, just got some in with the last supply shipment." Chambers grinned as he looked at Daniel. "And from the way your eyes are starting to water, I'd say you were a little overdue for your pills."
"Did the shipment just come in?"
"No, why?"
"Well, you're not usually in the storeroom."
Chambers laughed. "No, it's a little cramped in there, but I'm checking to make sure I pulled all the birth control pills off the shelves for Dr. Frasier."
"What on earth for?"
"No idea, Dr. Jackson, but Frasier was adamant that no more be dispensed until she gave the word."
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part - 04 ↑
"Dr. Frasier, Janet, wait up."
Janet turned in mid-stalk, and slowed enough for Samantha Carter to catch up without actually running.
Sam studied her friend with a concerned eye. "Janet, how's Captain Jeffreys?"
"Lucky." Anger laced the petite doctor's tones. "Very, very lucky. Dammit to hell."
The astonished Major pulled her friend to a standstill, forcing Janet to face her. "*What* did that mean?"
Janet felt her face flush. "I'm sorry, Sam. It's just that we could have lost her so easily, because she wanted the mission to succeed, and because..."
"Because what?"
"Nothing."
"Ah ha. Janet, what exactly was the matter with Susan, and don't tell me it's confidential. I can get pretty much the whole story from any of the nurses, and what they don't tell me I can figure out, so give."
Janet sighed. "Try ruptured ectopic pregnancy, untreated for too long."
"Oh, my God. But Susan's an active member..."
"...of SG-6. Yes, I know, but I've got reason to..."
Sam studied her silent friend for a moment. "This has something to do with the mandatory pregnancy testing, doesn't it?"
A barely heard, "Yes" caused Sam's frown to deepen. "Can you tell me what?"
"Not..., have you been tested yet?
Sam shook her head. "No, Nurse Mitchell got pulled into surgery, but I'm not pregnant."
"Can't be sure."
"You can if you've been, uh, alone... a lot."
Janet smiled. "I *can* relate, but, seeing as how I've ordered mandatory testing, why don't we do yours now?"
"Weren't you headed somewhere?"
"It can wait. Come on, lady, let's go see how lonely you've really been."
"Hey, I said alone, not lonely."
Janet grinned. "I stand corrected."
**************
Mountain roads can be treacherous in good weather, and daylight. Modify the situation to foul weather, and no light, and disaster can be just around the corner. Colonel Robert Makepeace sighed as he rounded a curve, and slowed. The flashing lights of several emergency vehicles were blinding, even in the heavy rain. The Marine peered into the darkness surrounding the vehicles, and strained to see what tragedy had occurred. Silently he berated himself for falling into the age-old trap of rubber-necking, but found himself unable to look away as he noticed the coroner's wagon. Besides, he reasoned, the road was blocked with the tow-truck, and there was no way around it. Glumly, he shifted into park, and settled back to wait.
The winch on the tow-truck stiffened and squealed, as the chain started to move slowly upward. Makepeace watched, mesmerized, as the links reflected the flashing lights. Shaking his head to clear it, he started to look away, then froze as his eyes caught the sticker on the crumpled bumper attached to the J-hook slowly coming into view over the top of the ledge. The innocuous looking emblem spoke volumes to the horrified Colonel. The car was registered to enter the SGC complex at the top of the mountain.
Makepeace climbed out of his car and made his way toward the spot where the tow-truck was lowering the crumpled Escort.
A highway patrolman held up his hand. "I'm sorry, sir, but..."
Makepeace flashed his military id. "I recognize the identification sticker on the back of the car." Nodding at the condition of the little car, he added. "I assume the occupants were killed."
"Occupant, Colonel, DOA. Can't tell you anything else, pending notification of next of kin."
"Military?"
The young patrolman hesitated a moment too long.
"Son, if he's got military id, then *I* am the next of kin."
"She."
"Pardon me?"
"She, sir. The deceased is ... was a young woman."
**********
Jack stared bleary-eyed at the clock over the General's head. The sun would be up soon, and he still hadn't had any sleep. It had taken over six hours to make all the appropriate contacts, and get the final arrangements approved. Well, Jack thought, five hours. He'd argued against the General's decision for the better part of an hour, but, in the end, Hammond had won. His last argument had been short, but definitive. "It takes a snake to catch a snake." Considering the fact that Maybourne was an unscrupulous, unprincipled, immoral asshole, applying the designation 'snake' to him was, Jack thought, rather insulting to the reptiles. Finding himself in reluctant agreement with his superior, the Colonel finally conceded defeat. Hammond hung up the phone and smiled wryly at the commander of SG-1. "Maybourne will be here early this afternoon."
"Sweet."
"I realize that you disagree with my decision, Colonel, but I hope that I won't have to remind you that Maybourne will be on *our* side this time."
"Ya think?"
Hammond's response was interrupted by the phone. "Hammond ... Colonel Makepeace, I'm rea... What! How? ... Damn. No, not at county. Back here. Do whatever you have to. Will you need any help to handle the situation there? ... Good. Thank you. Keep me posted, I'll notify Frasier." Hammond almost threw the handset into the cradle, then looked at O'Neill, and answered the unasked question. "That was Colonel Makepeace. Lt. Allison Miller was killed tonight when her car went off the road, five miles from here."
Jack winced. The young lieutenant had been with SGC less than six months, but had endeared herself to just about everyone, especially her SG-11 diplomatic team. The tall red-head was, Jack corrected himself, had been unusually good-tempered for a red-head. It was a standing joke with SG-11, that Allison could talk her way out of anything. Except death, he thought angrily. Part of Hammond's conversation ran rampant through his thoughts. "You're having her body brought back *here* for the autopsy." It was not a question.
The General nodded tiredly. "She was one of the pregnant women, Colonel."
*********
"*It's* wrong!" The vehement denial cut Janet to the quick, even as it didn't surprise her.
"Sam..."
"No, Janet, no way in hell am I pregnant."
Gulping the doctor asked the only thing she could. "No missing time frames?"
"You mean like binges where you don't know what day it is when you wake up? Janet, please, this is *me*. I do not do shit like that. I'm an Air Force Major, for heaven's sake. The test is wrong."
Janet laid a sympathetic hand on her friend's arm. "Sam, this is the most accurate test around. Ninety-eight percent correct."
"But two percent of the results are wrong?"
"Well, yes."
"Then do the test again."
"Sam..."
"NO! Do it again."
Janet met her friend's blue eyes, normally calm and gentle, now flashing with barely suppressed anger and fear. Nodding, the doctor silently began to draw more blood.
*********
Daniel rubbed his eyes, but it didn't help. He could no longer focus on the cuneiform looking images on the page. His eyes were watering badly now, making the little figures in the ancient text look as if they were dancing. He absently fingered the bottle of capsules in his jacket pocket. What? Oh, yeah. How could he have forgotten? The new wonder drug. Jerking the bottle angrily from his pocket, he glared at the directions. One every twenty-four hours as necessary. With *him*, they were always necessary. Daniel barely suppressed a sneeze, and sighing, opened the bottle. The capsules were larger than he was used to, but he supposed that was why he could take fewer of them. Popping a capsule into his mouth, he washed it down with coffee, grimacing as he found that the coffee was cold. Choking, he managed to get the medication down, then stumbled to the sink to wash the dregs from his mug. Maybe a fresh pot would help him focus. He pulled the glass twelve-cup pot from the pad, rinsed it and let it fill while he changed the filter. After adding the coffee to the filter, he lifted the pot out of the sink, and promptly doubled over, the sudden pain in his stomach almost overwhelming. The glass shattered as the pot hit the floor, followed by the young archaeologist. His last conscious thought was that he knew how to translate the mystery text.
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part - 05 ↑
The room was silent, and poorly lit, but the lack of light did not reflect the mood of the occupant. The huge, silent bulk that was Teal'c sat rigidly still, legs crossed underneath him, eyes welded tightly shut. He centered all his inner attention on the flames burning before him, depending on *other* senses than sight to focus on the candles which surrounded him. The glow from the flames flickered even in the stillness of his room, causing his shadow to dance in various shapes and sizes across all reaches of his quarters. While his physical size, strength and stamina were visible reminders of Jaffa endurance training, the mental training was less ... noticeable, at least for those deemed worthy of becoming a 'First Prime' candidate. Teal'c remembered vividly the pride he felt upon being selected for *that* training. Only his pride in the training remained, all vestiges of pride in his service to Apophis were abandoned when he chose to take up the cause of SG-1, and Earth.
The Jaffa's normally reticent countenance concealed a highly intelligent, agile mind. One which tended to be overlooked due to the conceit typical of those born to the use of the English language, and Earth-bound culture. That he was highly valued by his SG-1 teammates, there was no doubt. But he often felt ... underutilized, unless there was a rock to be moved. Disillusionment, accompanied by a modicum of anger, swept through his mind. He concentrated heavily on the unnatural emotions, twirled them around in his mind, tasted their essence, then, as Master Bra'tac had taught him so long ago, he discarded them as the useless burdens they were. A sense of calm filled him, and he sighed in relief. Of late he'd been consumed with feelings of unworthiness. The meditation session had served to free his soul once more.
Rested and refreshed, Teal'c discovered that he was very, very hungry. With his innate sense of time, and a knowledge of his friends, he knew of one other who was probably also in need of sustenance. A brief smile graced his lips as he thought about the youngest member of the SG-1 team. A scholar rather than a warrior, Daniel Jackson was held in high esteem by the Jaffa, who had early on recognized the true courage, and character of the younger man. Teal'c rose swiftly, blew out the candles that sat scattered in a random pattern around his room, and followed his needs into the halls of the SGC.
********
Jack O'Neill arrived in the infirmary, only slightly out of breath. Wordlessly he took in the figure of Samantha Carter, slouched in a chair in Janet Frasier's office. The Colonel was startled to note that the young Major looked somehow smaller, and surprisingly vulnerable. Janet spotted him from across the room, where she was making arrangements to receive the body of Allison Miller. She motioned him toward a corner of the infirmary, far away from her assistants, and her office.
"What's up, Doctor? You said I was needed down here, stat. Where's the crisis?" A knot began to form in his stomach, even as he asked the question.
"*You* and Sam need to talk." Janet was well aware of the rumor mill that had turned the Colonel and the Major into a couple almost before SG-1 was formed.
The small knot was rapidly becoming a full size boulder. "What about?"
"That's for her to tell you."
"I really think that..."
"Colonel, I've got the body of a young lieutenant coming in for an autopsy in less than thirty minutes. I haven't been able to reach Dr. Harris, he's not answering his page, and if he doesn't come in, *I* will be forced to do it. Just trust me on this. Talk to Major Carter."
Jack watched stunned as the doctor started to walk away, then suddenly changed her mind. Fatigue from being too long awake, combined with anxiety to remove all her military inhibitions. "And Colonel, don't upset her, or I'll personally kick your ass into eternity ... sir."
The good doctor left the infirmary as quickly as the Colonel had arrived. The bemused man shook his head to clear his thoughts and, putting on an air of calm that he did not feel, walked into Janet's office. The depression emanating from the Major was almost tangible in its intensity. A voice so low that he almost didn't hear it confirmed his worst fears.
"S..She ran the test three times. They're all same, I'm ... pregnant."
'Oh, God! Not Sam.' Jack moved quickly to her side, and placed a strong hand gently on her shoulder. Sam looked up, and smiled weakly; eyes bright with unshed tears.
Rising she paced nervously within the confines of the office. "*They* say 'third time's the charm'. It sure as hell didn't turn out that way this time."
"Major..."
"I do *not* get it. How the hell could this have happened?"
"Carter..."
"It just doesn't make sense."
"Sam."
The unaccustomed use of her first name caught the young woman's attention. "Sir?"
Jack took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Sam, I'm really, really sorry. I assume Dr. Frasier explained about the ..."
"Phony birth control pills? Yes, sir, she did."
O'Neill looked for a moment at the floor, reluctant to ask the necessary question. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he raised his head to meet her eyes. "Major, I'm sorry, but I have to ask, is the father a member of SGC?"
"Colonel!"
Misunderstanding her outraged response, O'Neill hastened to add, "Don't worry, Major, I'll do what I can to help if he is one of ours."
Fury filled her eyes, to be replaced by despair. "There is *no* father, sir. Hard as that is to believe, I haven't," she blushed, "haven't been with anyone in quite some time." She paused and looked away. "Not that anyone will believe that, of course."
Warning bells turned into full scale alerts in Jack's head. He studied the young woman before him for a moment, but true to his nature, and her character, he did not discount her assertion. "How far along are you?"
She gulped. "Janet says about three and a half weeks."
"No missing time frames?"
Her eyes turned to ice. "You mean drunken binges?"
"No! I mean missing time frames. Alcohol is not the only memory inhibitor around. Rohypnol can also do the trick."
"Rohypnol?" Carter asked confused.
"Better known as the 'date rape' drug." He went on to answer the unasked question in her eyes. "Knew someone who used it." Her eyebrows raised, and he went on quickly. "Actually, to be completely candid, I, uh, testified against someone who used it. Arrogant little asshole. Stupid too. Took his last victim across state lines and dumped her. Got ten years in Leavenworth."
"I see. ... Colonel, I've been so busy with work, that I've barely had time to go to the grocery story, much less date." She paused, then asked in a calm voice that surprised even her. "Sir, what happens now?"
"We find out what the hell is going on. Major, I want every detail of your life of three to four weeks ago documented to the best of your ability."
Her reply was interrupted by the intercom on Janet Frasier's desk, echoing the larger unit in the infirmary and surrounding labs. "Medical emergency. Code Red. Daniel Jackson's laboratory."
Samantha Carter was only a few steps behind O'Neill as they raced for the door, pausing only to yield the right of way to an exhausted Janet Frasier and her emergency team.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 06 ↑
Teal'c maneuvered the maze of hallways at the SGC with ease, appearing to ignore the silent guards who were posted at odd intervals throughout the base. He frowned as he realized he'd gone entirely too far without being asked for identification, and made a mental note to inform Colonel O'Neill. What was concealed at SGC was entirely too important, and potentially dangerous, to allow for such laxness as he was witnessing. Taking the elevator to the lab level, he relaxed when the next guard challenged his identity. Teal'c smiled slightly as the young soldier seriously compared his card to his appearance. "Clear, sir."
Teal'c nodded toward the lights up the hall. "Dr. Jackson is still here?"
"Yes, sir. Since before I started my shift." The guard grinned suddenly. "And nothing's been delivered from the mess hall, either."
The Jaffa's smile widened. "Indeed. I shall endeavor to remedy that situation." Long strides covered the distance to the well-lit lab. Teal'c peered through the window in the door, the smile fading from his features as he failed to see his friend. Puzzled, he looped long fingers around the door handle, and pulled the cold steel toward him, his worried voice carrying back to the young guard. "The lab appears to be empty."
"What? ... He was there when rounds were done, about twenty minutes ago."
Recognizing the younger man's dilemma - to remain at his post, or to check on the SGC's most valuable civilian resource - Teal'c nodded, "I will search the lab."
A grateful, "Thank you, sir," followed the concerned Jaffa as he entered the young archaeologist's lab. Teal'c moved unerringly toward the artifact which he knew to be his young friend's latest obsession. His eyes widened with horror as he neared the low counter. Daniel Jackson's too still form lay, surrounded by shards of glass, on the floor near the sink. Teal'c moved swiftly to the phone, and dialed a too familiar extension. "Medical emergency. Code Red. Daniel Jackson's laboratory."
*********
The man's voice betrayed his excitement. "It's marvelous. A perfect nine-week fetus. No sign of abnormality from the wormhole whatsoever." He paused, and his eyes narrowed as he thought about his experiment. Turning to face the young man across the room, he asked. "How often had she been through the Gate in the last nine weeks?"
His assistant selected a code and entered the question into the computer. Gulping, he reluctantly replied. "Only once, sir. Her team had been on stand-down due to injuries."
"Damn! What about the other one?"
The young man typed frantically on his keyboard. His face paled. "Sir, the four week mother has been through the gate twice since she was impregnated."
"Shit! One more gate trip in a very short time frame. I *knew* I should have taken her fetus. Dammit-to-hell! Well, we'll just ... No. There's no way to know if the others took, and they'd all be first trimester anyway." A shock of gray hair fell into his eyes, and was brushed absently away as he stared at his nervous assistant. "Stewart?"
"Y..yes, Dr. Howard?"
"If the next one has had more than four trips through the gate, I want to know about it, before anyone else. Understand?"
"Yes, sir, four trips on one of the regulars."
"NO! Don't you *ever* listen? Four trips. Period. Doesn't matter *who* she is."
"Even ..."
The doctor glared angrily at his lab assistant. "YES, are you deaf, even, ... Damn! No, best not to take chances on *that* front."
Stewart sighed in relief, and turned back to his beloved computer monitor. He never heard the whispered, "yet" that concluded his supervisor's statement.
***********
Airman Andrew Adams fearfully locked the elevator, assuring that the car would be available to the emergency medical team on their return trip from Dr. Jackson's lab. He simply could not believe this had happened. Of all the stupid, stupid things to have happen, Dr. Jackson getting sick on *his* watch, and he didn't even notice. He was absolutely certain the doctor had been fine when he last made his rounds. Surely he would've noticed if something was wrong. Dammit to hell, from what he'd seen when he heard Teal'c's cry, the scientist could very well be dead. Adams cringed as he recalled the panic he felt as he'd responded to the Jaffa's cry for assistance. Dr. Jackson's breathing had been labored as the young airman raced into the lab. To his absolute horror, he'd barely arrived when the unconscious archaeologist gave a shuddering gasp, and stopped breathing altogether. Adams had assisted the Jaffa with CPR until he'd been unceremoniously pushed aside by a nurse, who'd also responded to Teal'c's summons from another lab down the hall. He'd then found himself moving aside to make room for Dr. Frasier and her team. The rapid arrival of Colonel Jack O'Neill was too much for the young man, who'd retreated to the safety of his post. Adams leaned heavily on the desk near the elevator, and stared dejectedly down the hall, praying fervently that the soft-spoken scientist would survive.
***********
"It's not working, Ma'am. His throat's closed all the way now." The nurse sat back on her heels as Janet slid down by Daniel's side, ignoring the glass shards that imbedded themselves in her knees.
"Damn!" The frustrated physician quickly checked Daniel's airway. Confirming that it was totally blocked, she grabbed for her bag. "Anaphylactic shock. Where the he.. There!" Plunging a hypodermic into his abdomen, just below his navel, she depressed the plunger, praying frantically that she was in time.
Jack's voice contained little of the emotion he felt. "What's that?"
Her eyes never left her patient as she responded. "Epinephrine. If we're lucky, we're in time." The room held its collective breath as the seconds ticked by. Janet knelt in a pool of her own blood, one hand on the man's wrist, the other on his throat. Sighing in relief she stood up. "Good. He's already starting to breath on his own. Load him and roll, gentlemen."
The orderlies moved swiftly to place the unconscious man on the gurney. As they tightened the straps around Daniel, Janet turned to Teal'c. "What happened?"
Worried eyes watched as his friend was secured. "I arrived here moments ago to take Daniel Jackson to eat. He was on the floor, having much difficulty breathing."
"Blast!"
"What's wrong?" Sam asked, concern heavy in her tones.
"Anaphylactic shock can be caused by an allergic reaction. Daniel's allergic to so many things, but I've never had him do this before." She moved to follow the orderlies as they maneuvered the gurney toward the door. "I really need to know what he was doing , and what, if anything, he had eaten or taken just before he collapsed, but I guess we'll have to get that from Daniel when he comes to."
"Shouldn't he be waking up now? You gave him the shot."
Janet carefully hid a smile at the Colonel's question. "No, sir. Not necessarily. It may take another shot of epinephrine, or three, maybe more, liters of isotonic..." She stopped as she saw Jack's confused expression. "Uh, fluids, Colonel, special fluids."
Sam gasped as she spotted the blood on Janet's pants. "Janet, you're bleeding."
The surprised doctor stared in disgust at her pants legs, then glared at the glass shards on the floor where Daniel had lain. "Great. Well, I'm headed to the right place, don't ya think?"
"Huh?"
"The infirmary, I'm going to the infirmary."
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part - 07 ↑
Janet rubbed her tired eyes, thankful for the miracle that she had hoped for but hadn't really expected... that the injection had pushed back the edema just enough so that Daniel could get some air in, giving them the precious few minutes they needed to get him to the infirmary where she could do a controlled assessment, and start the IV medication drips which would ensure that his airway wouldn't swell closed again.
As Janet started to follow the gurney, the room suddenly tilted. Only Jack's quick reflexes prevented her collapse. "Dr. Frasier!"
"Janet!"
The dual cries of concern brought a faint smile to the woman's lips. "Sorry, Colonel, Sam. I've been up a little too long. Really should have let Dr. Michaels respond to this."
The words had no sooner left her mouth than one of the corpsmen called out. "Dr. Frasier, something's wrong. I'm not getting a pulse."
Wordlessly, the physician yanked loose of Jack's grip and rushed to the gurney. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized the depth of her error. Had she only imagined him to be breathing? No, surely not. Surely she'd actually... not, now Janet. Concentrate on your patient. Checking Daniel's throat, it didn't take a genius to see that the improvement had been only temporary, and in addition to not lasting nearly long enough, it was clearly far too little, and just maybe, too late as well... considering that he had been in complete respiratory arrest, and probably oxygen deprived as well, when the emergency team had arrived.
'Shit!' Cursing under her breath, she seized a long curved blade held out by one of the corpsmen, and started to intubate the archaeologist. She huffed out an agitated breath as the metal blade appeared to hang up in Daniel's throat, only to find release a moment later. Taking great care not to damage the larynx, she continued her task, grateful that the obstruction was not bad enough to require her to do a tracheotomy.
As the tubing found a home, she was only vaguely aware that she'd bitten her lip. She quickly removed the stylet, and checked for a pulse. The young nurse attached an Ambu-bag to the tube's end, and began the process of pumping oxygen into the young man's lungs. Ignoring the taste of her own blood, Janet ripped open Daniel's shirt, calling for the paddles. A sigh of relief left multiple lips as a single shock did its job. As the nurse concentrated on bagging the young scientist, the corpsmen rapidly maneuvered the gurney into the elevator, with Janet Frasier along side. Her thoughts were racing as she watched oxygen being forced into her patient's lungs. She'd been incredibly stupid ... no, too tired. Dammit to hell! As the elevator doors slid shut, she caught herself staring down at the young man. His incredible intellect was a legend at the SGC, and her, her *mistake*... Dear God, had he been without oxygen too long? Had she managed to annihilate that intelligence with her own moment of stupidity?
**********
Ice blue eyes set deeply in an oval face, and highlighted by pale gray hair, were as cold and emotionless as their owner's inner thoughts. No warmth, or genuine laughter ever revealed themselves in the hidden depths of the man. Doctor Hans Reicher was brilliant, but, as was so often the case with true genius, emotionally stunted. He was, however, a consummate actor, capable of giving what would have been Oscar-winning performances had they been recognized as such. Never one to see past his own desires, he'd learned early on in life that the simplest way to use people for his benefit was to become their friend, and benefactor. Consequently, he'd racked up quite an impressive supply of international humanitarian and scientific awards, amassing large amounts of fame and wealth as he aged. His personal goals, beyond immediate self-gratification, were simple. Fame, which he had. Fortune, which he had. And eternal life, which he was working on.
His hand reached out and gently touched a framed photograph. Dear Katherine. So sweet, so beautiful, so hopelessly devoted to the memory of that insipid little prick ... what was his name? Didn't matter. He'd first met her just after the war, him, a young German geneticist, and her, a brilliant physicist, and archaeologist, following in her father's footsteps. Or trying to. The imbecile actually had preferred his assistant's company, to that of his daughter. Hans shook his head at the utter stupidity of the man.
After the death of ... Ernest. That was the name. Ernest. After his death, Hans had maintained a hope that Katherine would turn to him for comfort. But it was not to be. Instead, she threw herself into her father's work, ignoring the young blond scientist completely. He'd finally given up, and gone on with his life, marrying six times along the way, but never quite getting over Katherine.
A cold, unfeeling smile played on his lips as he recalled becoming her project's benefactor during the sixties. The 'conflict' in Vietnam was escalating out of control, and her funding had been cut to the bone. The military, in its infinite wisdom, had chosen to ignore the potential of a long-failed project, and concentrate on developing bigger and better weapons. He still remembered his delight as she'd approached him, requesting funding to continue her research. All thoughts of coupling with her were banished as he realized the potential of her 'mysterious circle'. He frowned as he remembered being shoved unceremoniously aside when certain military minds suddenly came to their senses about the device. But not until he'd spent vast sums of money getting the machine to actually do *something*. Katherine's delight when the first chevron had lit up had been worth the expense.
His monetary backing had proved valuable in more ways than one. His support of the project when government funding had been at its lowest, had granted him the gratitude of a nation. Or so the little idiot from the State department had said. It had also gleaned for him a high-level security clearance, high, but not high enough for more than minimal access to Stargate data. But even that limited exposure had piqued his interest. Now that *his* network was in place, information flowed freely, and he liked what'd he learned.
The Goa'uld. So deliciously soulless. So brilliantly inventive. So ... long-lived. His experiments were costing him a small fortune, but he had money to burn. He would have their secret, no matter the cost. And he would have it soon. Time, for Doctor Hans Reicher, was running out.
**********
Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter and Teal'c stood frozen to the floor of Daniel's lab. The scene outside the door had been a horrifying ordeal for all three. Jack's voice was barely above a whisper. "Ana... what kind of shock? From *allergies*?"
Sam absently replied. "Anaphylactic ... shock, that is. I've, uh, heard of it, but never really thought that Daniel... I mean, he's always sneezing. Holy Hannah, I thought that was it, just hay fever I mean." Turning to Jack, she continued, "He doesn't carry a kit of any kind. I would've thought that..." Her voice trailed off.
Teal'c's solemn reply brought their attention back to the Jaffa. "I have never seen such a reaction."
Sam put a hand on the man's shoulder. "You did everything right, Teal'c. You couldn't have done anything more."
"No, Teal'c, you did all you could."
The Jaffa nodded, but still eyed the now silent corridor.
Jack did a quick once-over of the remainder of his team. "Well, kids, lets go check on Daniel." 'And,' he thought, 'Dr. Frasier.' He started for the door, but was stopped by Sam. Turning he saw her kneel quickly on the floor by Daniel's work-station. "What...?
"Daniel's allergy pills fell on the floor. I'm picking them up. Looks like he lost the whole bottle." She was quickly gathering up the medicine as she spoke.
"Fat lot of good they did him." Jack replied sourly, obviously disturbed by this betrayal of modern medicine. "Coming, Major?"
"Yes, sir." Sam did a once-over of the floor. Spotting no more loose pills, she shoved the bottle into a pocket, and rose quickly to her feet. "Oh, oh."
Turning at the sound of her voice, Jack was barely in time to catch her before she hit the floor. 'Shit. Not another one.'
Teal'c looked calmly at the pale, unconscious form of the Major. "Samantha Carter has fainted, Colonel O'Neill."
"Ya think?"
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 08 ↑
Though confused by Jack's sarcastic response, Teal'c elected to ignore it, and moved quickly to reach for the phone.
"Wait, Teal'c, you don't need to call for a team."
The Jaffa's eyebrows raised in confusion. "Major Carter has fainted. Perhaps she has been affected by whatever injured Daniel Jackson."
"No. No, that's not it. She's, uh, she's ... coming around now." Jack relaxed, somewhat. Teal'c's concern had never really occurred to him and he was relieved to see the color coming back into Carter's cheeks. God, how many times had he done the catching number when Sara was pregnant with Ch... Don't go there, O'Neill. A low groan pulled his attention back to Carter. "Welcome back, Major."
Confusion reigned in her eyes for a moment, followed by a deeper reddening of her cheeks as she realized where she was. Gulping, she pushed away from her commanding officer's chest, and put her head in her hands, trying to ignore the waves of dizziness and nausea.
Jack leaped easily to his feet and offered her a hand, for once forgoing his normally sarcastic remarks. "Easy, Major. Don't rush it. Don't want a repeat performance."
Her eyes met his, and she smiled sourly as she took his hand, allowing him to pull her upright. "Sorry, sir. I don't know what happened."
"Well, *I* do."
"Sir?"
O'Neill barely managed to conceal a grin at her confusion. "Sara did it all the time."
Her eyes widened as the meaning of his words hit home. "Oh. *OH!*"
"R.i.g.h.t! Now, let's go check on Daniel."
**********
The computer beeped urgently for attention, and Stewart moved tiredly to check email. Reading the contents, he cast a secretive glance at his immediate superior on the opposite side of the lab. Dr. Howard had given him strict instructions to tell him about any new pregnancies where the mother had been through the gate at least four times. And while the older man had *said* he wouldn't take action if *she* was the mother, Stewart wasn't so sure. The man was obsessed with determining the effects of gate travel on a developing fetus. Some sort of hair-brained theory that excessive exposure to worm-hole stresses would cause genetic mutations. Well, that part was okay, but Howard firmly believed that the Goa'uld, Stewart shuddered at the name, once possessed bodies similar to that of their human hosts. That this was what allowed them to merge so completely with their hosts. And that by studying the genetic mutations in the human embryos, Howard believed he could develop a race of genetically superior humans. Personally, Stewart thought the man to be a little mad, but the pay was good.
His eyes returned to the email. *She* was pregnant. Dr. Reicher would be pleased, but Dr. Howard... Stewart wasn't sure the man wouldn't ignore her special status, and try to use her for his own purposes. The nervous lab assistant hit 'check mail' one more time, and waited while the server returned the message 'no mail at this time'. He knew what he had to do. Ultimately Reicher was paying him to do a job, and Stewart wasn't stupid enough to double-cross *that* man. He'd take his info directly to Reicher. Shivering slightly, he rose silently from his chair.
"What came in, Stewart?" Howard's eyes were mild, but the younger man felt the implied threat behind them.
"Uh, just an ad to upgrade the encyclopedia software. I deleted it."
"I see." Howard eyed his young assistant suspiciously. "Where are you going?"
"T..to the b..bathroom, sir. Only to the b..bathroom."
Howard watched the nervous young man leave the room. He wasted no time in pulling up Stewart's email. The stupid youngster actually believed that his password was *secret*. What's this? An email from SGC. Little asshole thought he'd be able to hide *this* from *me*? Incredibly stupid, so where... Oh, no, no, no. He wouldn't. Howard glanced at the door. Yes, yes he would. Stupid, disloyal, pain in the ass... well, he knew how to handle *that*.
He picked up the handset, and punched a speed-dial number. A momentary pause, and ... "Sir, I just received word from SGC. We've had another success, *and* it's the one you've been waiting for. ... Yes, sir. Samantha Carter is pregnant. ... Yes, sir. I knew you'd be pleased." The line went dead, and Howard leaned back in the swivel chair, smiling to himself. Let the little idiot report *now*. It would be interesting to see how Reicher handled this situation.
*********
The infirmary was buzzing with activity when SG-1 arrived. Daniel lay, pale, and still unconscious, surrounded by the equipment that was keeping him alive. IV drips hung over his head, and a respirator had now replaced the Ambu-bag from the hallway. Dr. Harry Michaels adjusted the flow on the saline, frowning until he was satisfied that it was moving fast enough.
Jack frowned as he searched the room for Janet Frasier. Harry Michaels was okay, but this was *Daniel*. He finally spotted the petite doctor sitting on a bed on the far side of the room, a young medic with SGC plucking glass shards from her knees. His frown deepened as he saw the blood, only to be replaced by a small smile as he listened to her berate the young woman in front of her 'to be careful, she was on her last set of knees'.
Janet looked up, and motioned the SG-1 team members over to her. "Sorry about this, Reynolds is working on finishing *off*," she gasped, "my knees. I don't think you used enough anesthetic, Marti."
"Yes, Doctor Frasier." The young woman dropped a large piece of glass into the bowl beside her and turned to the SG-1 team, her eyes unable to hide her amusement. "I'll be finished in a moment, sirs."
"Doc, how's Daniel?" Jack turned worried eyes back to where his too-still friend lay.
"The edema is receding, the respirator is merely a precaution right now. We'll monitor him for twenty-four hours and, unless there are complications, probably release him."
"What kind of complications?" Sam asked concerned.
"With this kind of reaction, we'll have to make sure he didn't have a cardiac injury, his blood pressure doesn't remain unstable, or he hasn't suffered cerebral injury." The last words were uttered in almost a whisper.
"*Brain* damage. You're telling me that Daniel could be *brain* damaged from a...an allergy attack?" Jack struggled with the words, Sam gasped, and even Teal'c looked noticeably concerned.
Marti Reynolds placed the last of the bandages on her superior's knees. "You're all set, Ma'am."
"Thank you, Marti. Go give Michaels a hand."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Janet's eyes dropped to her lap, and she studied her bandages for a moment. Huffing in a deep breath, she looked at the concerned faces of SG-1. Daniel's friends. *Her* friends. "I don't know how long Daniel had been without oxygen when I got there, and ..."
"Daniel Jackson was breathing when I entered the room. I began Ceeper as soon as he stopped."
"Ceeper?" Janet looked confused. "Oh, CPR. That's good, Teal'c, but still, as fast as his throat swelled, the oxygen levels when he was breathing may not have been enough to sustain his brain functions." She paused, guilt written all over her face. "Then I thought he was okay for transport, that I had enough time to get him *here*. I was wrong."
Jack started to speak but the words wouldn't come. Clearing his throat, he asked. "When will we know?"
"Twenty-four hours. We should know in twenty-four hours."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 09 ↑
"An allergic reaction? What the hell do you mean he had an allergic reaction? ... Never mind. I know what Anaphylactic shock is. ... Is he dead? ... SHIT! Keep an eye on the situation, but I warn you, Jackson must not regain consciousness. Doesn't really matter if he's dead or not, as long as he doesn't wake up. ... Ever." The handset slammed into its cradle and Reicher leaned back in his chair. Shit! The phony medication Daniel Jackson had been given had been carefully designed to take forty-eight hours to react with his body chemistry. Death should have been almost instantaneous with the right amount of drugs, but no, the damned man had an allergic reaction.
Even if it wasn't to an ingredient in his medication, anything he'd ingested would be suspect. He had no doubt that the poison in the fake antihistamines would be found. And to make matters worse, the Carter bitch was pregnant, and completely out of his reach. He knew the reputation of SG-1. There was no way she'd leave the facility, not until Jackson was out of the woods, which of course, would be never. He had to have her. He'd worked too hard to obtain sperm from the host of the dying Apophis. And Carter was the key to everything. The protein marker left when the Tok'ra Jolinar died, should, according to the text he'd stolen, give him what he needed. If Jackson did manage to wake up and remember ... Worry about that later, you've got bigger problems now. Like how to get the Major away from SGC.
********
"That's it? Everything? Sure you haven't left something out?"
"Colonel Maybourne, I assure you that I've covered everything. The phony birth control pills, the pregnant women."
"What about the dead woman? Has the autopsy been done yet?"
"No, her body is on its way here, and the doctor who's to perform it has been paged to return here."
"Return here? Dr. Frasier's not doing it?"
"No, she's been up entirely too long, and asked to stand down from this ... task. Dr. Judith Harris will be doing it."
"I'll be observing."
"Of course, the observation theat..."
"I don't think you understand, General. I will be observing on the floor."
"I'm not sure that Dr. Harris will allow that."
"General, the situation isn't up for debate. Either I observe Dr. Harris, or one of my people does the autopsy, in which case I can assure you that I will be observing."
"May I remind you, *Colonel*, that this is my base, and that I will make the final decisions here."
"May I remind you, *General*, that you specifically requested my, uh, skills to determine who, or what, is trying to destroy your facility. Now either I have total control or I go home. Which is it?"
Hammond stared angrily at the man, wondering if he'd made a mistake. "Free reign, for now, Colonel. But do remember that I can tighten those reins whenever I choose."
"Understood, now..."
The intercom in Hammond's office squawked into life. "Medical emergency. Code Red. Daniel Jackson's laboratory."
Hammond rose from his desk. "That's on level..."
"I know what level it's on, General, but I fail to see the relevance."
"Something may have happened to Dr. Jackson."
"Unless he's pregnant, which I doubt, I prefer to let the medical team do its job, while I do mine. Now when is Allison Miller's body expected to arrive?"
**********
Jack O'Neill looked from Janet Frasier to Daniel Jackson and back to Janet Frasier once more. "I'm staying with him."
Janet smiled tiredly. "Chair's already there, Colonel. Had 'em put a cushion in it for you."
"Thanks." Jack headed for Daniel's bed.
"Colonel?"
Jack turned to face the doctor. "Yes, Doctor?"
"Talk to him. As much as you can." She swept her arm around to take in Teal'c and Carter. "All of you. Can't hurt, and there's a great deal of evidence that it helps."
"Right. I, we can do that. Right kids?"
"Yes sir."
"That is correct, O'Neill."
Teal'c followed Jack to Daniel's bed. Sam hesitated a moment, concerned by the pale face of her friend. "Janet, are you all right?"
The pretty brunette met Sam's eyes. "Oh, I'm just peachy, considering that I'm overtired, and just may have turned Daniel into a vegetable."
"Janet, you..."
"Should have let Michaels handle the damn call, but no, I've got this, this hero complex, and have to go out on every emergency call we get."
"Janet, don't beat yourself up about this. You couldn't have known things would go sour."
"I'm a physician, dammit, Sam. I'm supposed to anticipate and plan for everything."
"Even guilt?"
"Huh?"
"Looks like Daniel doesn't own a patent on guilt."
Janet Frasier had the grace to blush. "Guess not." She looked worriedly over at the bed where Daniel lay, breathing still controlled by the respirator. "But if anything is wrong..."
"Then we'll deal with it. Just like normal. Oh, yeah, I found these pills..." She reached into her pocket. "That's odd, they were there."
"What pills?" Janet's interest was piqued.
"Well to be accurate, they're actually capsules. They were on the floor. Looks like Daniel dropped them. Holy Hannah, I bet they fell out of my pocket."
"How?"
"Oh when I fain... Ooops."
Janet glared at the young woman. "You fainted, and you weren't going to tell me."
"Well, I got up too fast, and kinda, well, yeah, fainted. But I feel fine now. The bottle must have fallen out of my pocket. I'll go back to the lab and get them."
"No go. I suggest you call the airman on duty and get those capsules to the lab. They're probably just his antihistamines, but we can't be too careful. Then I suggest you get some rest."
"Look who's talking. Dr. Asleep-on-her-feet. I'll take it easy up here, but, Doctor, I suggest you get some sleep."
Janet laughed lightly. "You're right. Tell Michaels to call me if there's a change, and get those capsules to the lab."
"Right." Sam watched concerned as her tired friend left the infirmary.
**********
Hammond was still glaring at Colonel Maybourne when the phone rang. "Hammond! ... What! When? ... No, I'll handle that. When is the next flight out? ... Excellent. I'll need a car and driver in thirty minutes to make that flight." He looked tired as he disconnected.
"Problem, General?"
"Nothing that concerns you, Maybourne. You can use my computer to access the records of the affected women. I have some business to tend to. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"The body?"
"You'll be notified when *she* arrives."
Maybourne acknowledged the General's correction with a nod, and began to study the personnel records. He never saw the look of pure venom Hammond shot him as he left the room.
**********
Hammond entered the infirmary, and stared for a moment at his SG-1 team. Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, and Teal'c hovered around the bed containing the unconscious form of Daniel Jackson. Teal'c noticed his approach first, warning the others with his nod of respect. The two Air Force officers started to jump to attention, but Hammond forestalled their actions. "At ease, how's my boy?"
"Anaphylactic shock, but he looks better than he did." O'Neill spoke optimistically, ignoring the fact that only thirty minutes before, Daniel had looked dead.
Hammond nodded. "Major, may I have a word with you, in private, please?"
"Of course, sir." Sam tried to quell the panic she felt. Surely Janet hadn't reported her pregnancy. No, Janet had promised to let Sam tell the news. She followed Hammond into Janet's office, growing more concerned with each step. "Sir, what's wrong?"
He closed the door. "There's no easy way to say this, Major. I just got a phone call. Your brother and his wife have been in an automobile accident."
"Oh GOD!"
"I'm told that he's going to be okay, but her condition is guarded. The children are being cared for by neighbors, but you're needed there as soon as you can get there."
"Sir, I have to check the military flights, maybe they'll have a flight?"
"Easy, Major. I've got you on a plane, and a car and driver will be out front in a few minutes. If there's anything I can do?"
"Th..thank you, sir. Please tell the team. I..I don't think I can face them right now."
"Certainly Major. Now you'd better go."
"Y..Yes, sir. Sir, could you try to reach my father?"
"The Tok'ra have been hard to find lately, Major, but we'll do our best."
"Yes, sir. Excuse me, sir." With that, the distraught young woman fled the infirmary, watched with concern by her SG team, and the General.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 10 ↑
Jack O'Neill watched as Samantha Carter fled the room, then turned to meet the General's equally concerned eyes. Jack stifled a smile as he saw Hammond brace himself and move deliberately toward Daniel's bed, where he and Teal'c held vigil. Hammond had barely gotten to the door when he glanced down at his belt, and made a face. 'Obviously,' Jack thought, 'his pager did one of those annoying noise things.' As O'Neill watched, the General checked the number, and turned back toward the phone on Dr. Frasier's desk.
Outside the office, Jack frowned, glanced at the unconscious Daniel, then at the door through which the Major had vanished. From there his eyes followed the General as he picked up the phone. Jack allowed himself another quick look at Daniel. "Teal'c..."
"I will watch Daniel Jackson, O'Neill. He will come to no harm."
"Ya think?" The sarcasm was lost on the Jaffa. "Uh, thanks, Teal'c. The General and I need to chat."
He crossed the infirmary in long, almost angry, strides, and stopped at the now open door to Janet's office. Carter had fled so quickly, she'd failed to close it behind her. Jack's thoughts were in turmoil as he walked. Hammond had better *not* have said anything to Carter about her pregnancy. He couldn't remember if she'd already told the General or not, but he didn't think so. Carter would've wanted her immediate CO to know first, and Janet wouldn't have gone against the Major's wishes and told the General, without good reason. Jack raised his hand to knock on the door frame, but was spotted, and motioned inside, by an obviously confused senior officer. "If you'll hold on just a minute, sir. I'll put you on speaker." Hammond punch the speaker button and replaced the handset. "Now, Mr. Jacobs, I've asked one of my senior officers, Colonel O'Neill, to join me. Would you mind repeating what you just told me?"
An angry voice came through the line. "I don't see how you made General with a memory like that. But..." Jack winced at that comment, but the man on the other end of the phone continued unabated. "...like I said. She left me a message that she didn't have to work all weekend like she'd thought, and that she wanted to see me, said she'd even cook for a change. Said it was important. But she's not here, and her door's wide open. As far as I can tell she hasn't even been here at all. Everyone there keeps giving me the run around. Some nut even said she'd signed out, but if that was true, she'd have gone home. Now I ask you, where the hell is she?"
Jack took over from an obviously irritated General. "I'm sorry, sir. *Who's* not there?"
The male voice changed instantly from angry to contrite. "Oh, God, I didn't say, did I? Naomi, Naomi Ramirez." As quickly as it had disappeared, the anger returned. "Just what the hell have you people done with her?"
*********
"Don't worry, Major, we'll make the flight, with time to spare." The young driver had misinterpreted his passenger's worried look.
"What? Oh, thank you, Airman..." Sam struggled for the name, "...Dority. That's good to know." She settled back in the seat, and tried to relax. It would be a long, uncomfortable flight to Mark's home, and she might as well take advantage of the soft seats while she could. She was grateful that Mark was apparently okay, but worried about her young sister-in-law. Thank God the children hadn't been with them in the wreck. Oh, damn, wasn't it... yes, the baby's birthday is next week. Maybe her Mom will be better then. Please God. Don't leave them motherless, they're much too young.
Sam was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to hear Airman Dority's curse. The sudden momentum produced by the car skidding to a stop threw her to the limits of her seatbelt, causing the shoulder belt to tighten uncomfortably. "What?" She looked around her blinking rapidly in astonishment.
The uniforms took her by surprise. This part of the mountain was Air Force domain, patrolled by a variety of armed services personnel, and she was surprised to see the highway patrolmen this far up the road. She was even more stunned to see the road-block.
"Ma'am, if you wait here, I'll try to find out what the local yokels are doing up here." Dority's voice was tense with suppressed anger; he'd had to brake hard to avoid a collision with the State-owned vehicles, and worse, had almost bruised a superior officer in the process.
Sam was content to sit back and let the young man deal with the unwelcome interruption. She checked her watch, and realized that she still had time to make her flight. Glancing back at the road, she gasped as she saw her young driver stagger backwards and fall into a motionless heap. Her mind was too numb with grief, shock, and fear to recognize the threat, as she clambered out of the car. She never saw the cloth that sent her into oblivion.
************
Only a solemn promise from General Hammond to find Naomi got the young Mr. Jacobs off the line. Hammond was still looking at the phone as he spoke. "Colonel, you do realize that Naomi Ramirez is one of the pregnant women."
"Yes, sir. And Carin Tobolo is another. May I recommend sending a team to Airman Ramirez's home to do a thorough search, and let's see if we can find Lt. Tobolo, hopefully she's at home." Jack looked thoughtful. "And then there's Allison Miller, I'm sure Maybourne will be interested in that poor kid, when he gets here."
"Maybourne's here."
"Special."
"He's insisting on being on the floor for the autopsy."
"Why?"
"The lit...he wouldn't say."
"Again, special." The Colonel sighed in defeat. "Sir, I recommend that he and his people handle the check on Airman Ramirez."
"Why?"
"Just strikes me as odd that Ramirez is missing and Miller is dead, and they're both pregnant. I'm betting Tobolo's also missing, dammit."
"Colonel, you're implying that the pregnant women are in danger."
"Yes, sir, I am. Could be all of the women that are being threatened, but so far all the activity's been centered around the pregnant ones."
"I'll order all the female staff confined to base until further notice, except..."
"Sir?"
"I was on my way to tell you. Major Carter's brother and sister-in-law were injured in a car wreck. The Major's on the way to catch her flight now."
Jack's eyes widened with horror. "Get her back here, now sir."
"Colonel, I don't think so. The children need her."
"Sir, Major Carter's pregnant."
Hammond stared for a moment at the Colonel, then quickly punched in the number of the main gate. Jack's face fell, and took on a worried demeanor, as he heard that Major Carter had passed the gate and was no longer in sight.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 11 ↑
'Ouch. What the... My throat really hurts. Lying down? Right. Eyes do *not* want to open. What's that noi... Oh. The infirmary. Shit. What'd I do wrong this time?" The thoughts tumbled through Daniel Jackson's brain at lightning speed.
"Welcome back, Danny-boy, and before you ask, you didn't do anything wrong."
Eyelids beat frantically in an effort to open and stay that way. Soon blue eyes met brown, and the non-stop mouth opened to speak. A hoarse croak, sounding more like a senile bull-frog than a human, emerged.
"Ouch. Here, have some ice chips. Throat's sore, huh?"
Daniel nodded as he gratefully allowed the ice chips to melt in his mouth, alleviating some of the dryness, but drawing even more attention to the sensitive tissues. "Y' th'k?"
"I believe that's my line."
"R'gt. Wh't h'pnd?"
"Allergic reaction."
"T' wh't?"
"Your allergy medicine." Barely suppressed anger worked for control of Jack's voice.
"N'w al'gy md'cn?"
"New, yes. Allergy medicine, no. Don't know exactly what it is myself yet. Dr. Frasier just got the lab reports back about thirty minutes ago." He added thoughtfully. "Never seen her really pissed before."
"H'..." Growing tired of slurred words, Daniel cleared his throat and tried again. "How long?"
"Eight hours and fifteen point seven-five minutes. If you're looking for accuracy, that is."
"Accurate is good." Daniel studied his friend and commanding officer closely. The stubble of beard on his face, and the shadows around his eyes told of another damn vigil. But there was something else. The normal exuberance that accompanied the end of one of Jack's too frequent infirmary vigils was missing. "What's wrong?"
The Colonel ducked his head for a moment, staring hard at his hands. "What isn't?"
"Jack."
"Well, for one thing, Doc ordered the pharmacy shelves cleared."
"Why?"
"Your medicine wasn't the only fake stuff."
"Oh my God. What else was fake? Has anyone else been hurt?"
"Okay, you want the long story or the Reader's Digest Condensed Version?"
"Condense it for me."
"Fine. Try fake birth control pills. And, Stargate team members who are pregnant *and* missing. Maybourne's investigating."
Daniel stared for a long moment at his friend. "Oh. That left out a lot."
"Condensed version. You asked for it."
The young archaeologist frowned. "What else is wrong? You obviously haven't had enough sleep, and you haven't shaved. Not like you, Jack. So out with it."
Jack took a deep breath. "The missing women - well, Carter's one of them."
**********
Major Samantha Carter paced the confines of her cell, trying to check the almost overwhelming urge to cry. Tears of rage kept threatening to control her. Her last conscious memory, before the lights went out, was of the young airman, bleeding to death on the pavement, hands twitching in agony. Upon awakening, she'd found herself strapped tightly to an examining table, complete with - she shuddered at the memory - stirrups.
She'd always hated the annual physical, and all it entailed, but this, this was much worse. Almost rape in its violation by strangers. Worse than rape in the number of *strangers* involved, and the clinical procedures performed. No faces, only masks, and that horrible feeling of being powerless to stop what was happening. She'd buried herself in military dogma, and endured, somehow, swearing that someone, somewhere was going to pay for what was being done to her.
"Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry." The words repeated as a chant, over and over, had no real impact on her rage, ... and fear. Stumbling over her own feet, she slammed into the wall. Without warning, her hands took on a life of their own as they started to beat on the defenseless concrete. Suddenly, she collapsed, sliding down the wall and coming to rest in a heap on the cold floor. Exhausted, she rested her head on her knees. "Damn, damn, damn. Don't cry. Mustn't be emotional." Without warning, she heard Daniel's words, spoken in another traumatic moment in her life, "Why not?"
Startled, she lifted her head looking for her young friend, knowing he wasn't there. Rising, she crossed to the single bed and flopped down onto the mattress, slightly surprised that it was comfortable. Saying a quick prayer for Daniel's safety, she thought about what he'd said. "Why not? ... why not indeed!" Burying her head in the pillow, she cried herself to sleep.
**********
"Well, this week has gone to shit fast." Jack glared at the rest of his team congregated around the briefing room table. Daniel nervously rapped a pencil lightly against the wood veneer. The Colonel tolerated the annoying noise for a moment, then covered Daniel's hand with his own. "Don't."
Daniel hastily dropped the offending pencil. "Right. No problem."
"The noise offends you in some manner, O'Neill?" Teal'c watched the Colonel's actions with interest.
"No, Teal'c, the noise isn't really the problem." Jack sighed heavily.
"You are concerned about Major Carter, and the rest of the missing women."
The search of Naomi Ramirez's home had turned up nothing, Lt. Tobolo's
roommate reported the young woman had never returned from the grocery store, and worse from SG-1's perspective, neither Samantha Carter nor Airman Bruce Dority had been seen since they passed the gates.
"Yeah, Teal'c, I am. Hell, the damn car hasn't even been found yet."
"It has now." Hammond's voice was grim as he entered the room.
O'Neill gulped, and asked the question on all their minds. "Carter? ... Dority?"
"Carter's not with it. Dority's dead, single shot to the head. Car was rolled into a ravine not two miles from here. It was also hidden by deliberately placed foliage. The dogs found it about thirty minutes ago. Maybourne's people are on site."
"They're sure Sam's not there somewhere? Maybe in the bushes, hurt?" Daniel put to voice what was on everyone's mind.
"No, son, Maybourne's man, Major Sanders, says the brush was too thick. If Major Carter had been injured or thrown from the car, there'd be signs."
"But what if they dumped her somewhere else? Sir, we've got to increase the patrols. She could be lying just out of si..."
Jack placed a hand on Daniel's shoulder, effectively shutting off the flow of words. "What's that razor thing Carter's always talking about? The one about simple solutions?"
"Occam's Razor? Where the simplest of two or more competing theories is probably the correct one?" Daniel was obviously confused.
"Yeah, that's it. Simple. Ramirez is missing, Tobolo is missing, therefore, Carter is missing. Whoever did this went to a lot of trouble to grab the other women, quietly and quickly. They hid the car to keep it, and Dority, from being found. No, the simplest solution is that they're all alive, somewhere, for some reason. Can't, won't think otherwise."
"Just playing devil's advocate here, but Allison Miller's dead."
"Daniel, for once, I'm gonna be optimistic. The women are alive. Besides, we don't even know she was abducted."
"Ahem..."
All eyes turned to see Colonel Maybourne standing in the door. "Much as I hate to admit it, I have to agree with O'Neill. At least partially."
"Don't do me any favors."
"Don't worry. But... the autopsy on Miller proved very interesting."
"Just spill it Maybourne." Jack was furious.
"General, control your staff."
"They are under control, *Colonel*." Hammond added a silent 'no one's hit you ... yet.'
Maybourne frowned, then continued as if the conversation had never taken place. "Miller was pregnant."
"We know that." Daniel started rapping the pencil again. Jack moved to stop him, then noticed the look of annoyance on Maybourne's face.
"But ... you don't know that the fetus was taken from her before she died."
"You mean she had an abortion." Jack was trying to get his anger under control.
"If so, it was an unusual one. There were drugs in her system which would have caused a miscarriage."
"Okay, so?"
"Abortions are usually quick and relatively painless. Miscarriages are not. But, a miscarriage gives you an intact fetus. Abortion may not. In addition there is evidence that she was dead long before the car went off the cliff."
Daniel's eyes widened. "Someone wanted the baby?"
"Fetus, Jackson, it's a fetus. And yes, I believe someone wanted the fetus, intact, which means the other women will probably stay alive until that someone wants to harvest their's."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 12 ↑
Janet Frasier peered worriedly at the slides. Adjusting the focus for the third time, she pulled slide number one out, and replaced it with slide ten.
"Janet?"
"Oh, hi Harry."
"Is there something wrong?" He smiled a little, then commented. "Stupid thing to ask, wasn't it?"
"No, actually it's a very good question, but here lately it's easier to say what's right than what's wrong."
"Understand. Read the report on Allison Miller. And the rumor mill has three other women, including Major Carter pregnant and missing. Since I know the pregnant part's correct, can I assume that the missing is correct as well?"
Janet hesitated. The information was classified on a need to know basis only. She glanced down at her slides. "Can't really say, Harry."
"That's okay. It was worth a shot. What ya looking at?"
"Da... Dr. Jackson's blood work, among other things."
"And the confused look is for... Darn it, Janet, I'd like to help, and I *am* Dr. Jackson's primary physician this go around. ... Unless that's changed."
"No. Nothing's changed. Sorry. Should've called you. I've been trying to isolate what the substances in these *capsules* are, but the only one I've id'd so far, other than the outer shell, doesn't make any sense."
"You're saying the substance inside is alien." Michaels was horrified.
"Yes."
"Oh, Geez. But no idea what... What do you mean you id'd one that doesn't make sense?"
"It's arsenic. A small amount of arsenic."
"Arsenic? What the... That's a poison."
"Yes, but a very slow one when used in small doses like this one. It has to build in the body for months before it finally kills. And since death looks like natural causes, it's very hard to find."
"Does Dr. Jackson have a build-up in his hair or fingernails? Is he anemic?"
Janet shook her head. "No, those are some of the tests I did. He's definitely not anemic, but to be on the safe side I tested his hair. Nothing, thank God, not a trace."
Michaels looked relieved. "Then this is his first exposure."
"This time. But at least I know what he's allergic to. I just don't know why he reacted so adversely."
"This time? Dr. Jackson's allergic to arsenic?"
"It's in his records." Janet eyed the man with surprise.
"Yeah along with an allergy to just about every type of pollen, dust, etc, known to man. Guess I better reread his chart."
Janet grinned. "Probably."
"So how'd you find out he was sensitive to arsenic?"
"He rounded the corner at Colonel O'Neill's house just as the pest control man was dousing a hornet's nest. Or I should say a hornet infestation. Major nesting while the Colonel was on a prolonged mission. Daniel got drenched in the chemical spray. Developed a lovely rash. Nothing more. Tests isolated the reaction to the arsenic. Nothing to worry about, I mean, how often are you gonna get exposed to arsenic?"
Michaels smiled. "I'd say arsenic exposure is probably rare." His smile faded. "But it certainly doesn't sound like he'd go into anaphylactic shock with a second exposure, even if it was oral rather than topical."
"Yeah, but he did."
"True, what about the other chemicals? Could he be allergic to one of them also?"
"I don't know, but what worries me more is that I have no idea how to find out. I can't do controlled testing without knowing what the original purpose of the chemicals was. If it's some sort of slow-acting alien poison, which I suspect because of the arsenic, even controlled testing could kill him."
*************
Hans Reicher was angry past the point of tirade. His already pale face, was ghost pale, with random blotches of red as he heard the news that not only had Daniel Jackson survived, but his brain functions were apparently unimpaired. "What, may I ask, went wrong?"
The man on the other end of the phone would have preferred screams to the quiet menace in his employer's words. "The Jaffa found him in time to call for help, and the doctors were able to st..stabilize him. I'm s..sorry, s..sir."
"Sorry is not acceptable. You, sir, are a failure. I do not tolerate failures. Jackson must die. Now. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir. How would you suggest that I, uh, do it?"
"Kill him, you mean? I have no idea. That's why I employ people like yourself. To tighten up all those nasty little loose ends. Make sure it happens." Reicher disconnected without waiting for the pathetic assurances from his *man*, at least he supposed that's what it was, at the SGC.
Glaring at the phone, he dialed another number. "Well?"
"Samantha Carter is definitely pregnant, and very, very healthy."
Reicher's mood improved drastically. "Excellent. Make certain she stays that way. Oh, and make sure she's moved to a less disturbing environment than the cell-block. Gently. One of the secure penthouses will be fine. I want her to experience as little stress as possible. I've heard it's bad on a developing fetus."
He hung up, whistling slightly as he made his decision. Pressing another sequence of speed-dial digits, he reached an external number. "Our 'source' at the SGC is no longer necessary. See that he's eliminated, and that all tracks are removed. But first, he's under orders to eliminate Daniel Jackson. I do not believe he will succeed. Handle it. Double the standard fee."
***********
What remained of SG-1 watched solemnly as the staff car was hoisted to the road. The body of Airman Dority had already been removed by Maybourne's staff. As the J-hook lowered the car to the ground, Daniel rushed to the back door. Jack sighed heavily. "She's not in there, Daniel. You know that."
Daniel shot his friend a *look*. "Yes, I know that, Jack. I was just looking to see if she'd left anything, like maybe her purse."
"I'm sure Maybourne's people searched it already."
"Right, like you trust..."
"Really Doctor Jackson, I didn't realize you had such a suspicious mind." Maybourne frowned at the young scientist.
Daniel blushed a deep red, but wisely said nothing. Jack ducked his head to hide a grin. A short moment later, he looked up, the perfect image of an Air Force Colonel. "Well, Colonel Maybourne, what *have* you found?"
"From the tire tracks, we can tell that there were three vehicles here. Two cars, mid-size, and a van or truck of some sort."
"Special. Anything else?"
Maybourne looked mildly insulted. "Well, do bloodstains on the pavement tell you anything?"
Daniel looked vaguely ill. "Airman Dority was shot on the road? That means the staff car stopped for some reason."
"Ya think?" Jack uncrossed his arms and punched a finger into Maybourne's chest. "Don't let the Colonel here try a fast one, Daniel. The staff car had to stop. It would've gone over the edge with Carter in it if that poor kid had been shot while driving. Come on, Maybourne. You haven't got anything substantial, have you?"
The other man barely controlled his anger, then smiled bitterly. "Nothing. Not here at any rate. Whoever's doing this has gone to a great deal of trouble to hide his tracks, no pun intended."
The retort died on Jack's lips as a distant flash attracted his attention. His eyes narrowed as a cry of "Down!" left his lips.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
part - 13 ↑
The cry of 'down' had barely left his lips when Jack dove for the pavement, as far from the staff car as he could leap. Out of the corner of his eye, he was relieved to see the military types, even Maybourne, also eating dirt, and seeking cover. The same corner, however, failed to see Daniel take immediate action. Fear for the younger man caused Jack to slow his own descent slightly, and roll over to frantically search for his friend. 'Gotta work on the ducking thing again, dammit.' In the same instant, he caught sight of Daniel being unceremoniously dragged to the pavement by Teal'c. Jack allowed himself a short sigh of relief, covered his head, and waited. ... And waited. ... And waited. ... Nothing.
"What the... O'NEILL!" Maybourne's furious voice could be heard swearing from a nearby ditch.
"Jack, what on earth?"
O'Neill warily raised his head. "Stay down. Yes, Maybourne, that means you, too."
"O'Neill, if this is some sort of stupid game..."
"Maybourne, I saw a flash, could've been a scope."
"You mean a rifle?"
To his own amazement, Jack didn't go ballistic. "Yes, on a rifle, but it could also have been binoculars. Everyone stay down." Frowning he glanced at the two airmen crouched behind the staff car. "Hendricks, Jacobs, move away from the car. Get into the woods."
"Sir? We can't st..."
"*Move it!*" Every instinct Jack had was telling him something was wrong, that to stay near the large vehicle would be dangerous. "Michaels, you got the hand unit?"
"Yes, sir."
"Use it. I want a patrol in sector..." Jack wracked his brain for the coordinates, "7A. Yesterday."
"Yes, sir!" The young woman quickly positioned herself for the best radio reception with the least exposure.
Jack nodded his silent approval of her actions. From his left, he heard Maybourne grumbling. "What's on your mind, Colonel?"
The angry man pushed himself upright. "This is ridiculous. I will not lie in the dirt for who knows how long waiting on a patrol to find phantoms. Kennedy! Soloman! Chin!"
Maybourne's people rose quickly to acknowledge their commanding officer. A trio of off-timed 'yes, sirs' rang out.
Jack leaped angrily to his feet. "Damn it to hell. Get DOWN!"
The world exploded in the form of the staff car as a bazooka shell hit it, dead center. The flash was as blinding as the noise was deafening. As O'Neill's consciousness faded, he saw Teal'c turn into a human shield, positioning his bulk between Daniel and the car-turned-projectile.
*********
"Medical emergency! Code Red! Multiple casualties. Gate Road." The intercom interrupted the relative quiet of the lab. Janet Frasier leaped from her stool, heading for the door to join the medical alert team in the ambulance, or in this case, she thought wryly, ambulances. Harry Michaels began setting up for a triage scenario, should one be necessary.
One ambulance was already en route by the time Janet arrived at the departure station. As she jumped into the back of the waiting vehicle, she shouted "Go!", barely keeping her balance as the driver squealed the tires leaving the garage. The medic already inside grabbed her arm and pushed her onto a seat, then moved swiftly to close the doors. "Thanks, Lieutenant."
"You're welcome, Ma'am." The worried, drained look on her face was all that prevented the young man from commenting on her precipitous arrival, and almost disastrous departure.
Janet slumped wearily against the hard metallic interior of the ambulance. She really couldn't remember a more trying time at the SGC. Okay, there *was* that black hole thing, and that device that pinned Colonel O'Neill to the wall of the Gate room, and, Janet, what about Machello's little nightmares? Oh, and by all means, don't leave out the caveman syndrome. So, maybe life at the SGC could be considered living on the edge. There *were* calm moments, like saving Cassandra. She smiled at the memory, then frowned briefly, recalling the nightmare moments before the 'they lived happily ever after' part. Okay, what made this mess different... oh, right. No off-world menace, if you didn't count the capsules. That's what made this so horrific. For once, the enemy was native to their world, Janet thought angrily. 'What's that saying? Oh, yeah, we have met the enemy and he is us. Damn!'
**********
The cell door swung slowly open while Sam waited, holding her breath as she watched it drag slowly across the uneven floor. Pressing herself as hard as she could against the wall, she concentrated on two things - making herself as small as possible, and knocking the ever-living crap out of whoever was entering her prison. To her absolute disgust, no one came through the door. Instead, a deep male voice sighed. "Really, Major Carter. Don't you think you're being a bit melodramatic. The behind the door assault only works in the movies. Please do come out where we can see you. I'd prefer not to have to force you into compliance." The menace behind the words was obvious. Sam gave a low groan indicative of a temporary setback, and moved away from the door. Four very large guards quickly entered the room, positioning themselves warily around her. The older man, with the gray hair, smiled. "Thank you, my dear. And do be aware, though I would prefer not to have to order the action, these men will subdue you if *necessary*, by whatever means *necessary*."
"I'll try to keep that in mind." Sam spoke through clinched teeth.
"That's all I ask. All of your guards are well versed in the martial arts, and all have been briefed on what to expect from you."
"Terrific."
"Now, if you'll accompany me, I'm to move you to better quarters. The penthouse to be exact."
"It's still a prison." Sam muttered quietly.
"Excuse me?"
"I said why the change in prisons?"
"My employer feels that you, and your baby, should be sheltered and protected here, and that it's extremely important for your baby to develop in the correct environment."
"Am I supposed to be flattered?"
"You should be, my dear, our other guests have not faired quite so well."
Sam couldn't quite contain her gasp of dismay. "Guests, what other guests?"
"Oh, a couple of your co-workers have also agreed to join us here. I'm afraid, however, that their accommodations are not nearly as comfortable."
"I don't believe you."
Cold eyes locked with hers. "Pity." Seizing her by her arm, he dragged the reluctant woman to a nearby cell, pulled open the peephole and motioned for Sam to take a look. Casting a dirty look at her captor, Sam forced herself to peer into the gloom of the cell. She bit back a cry of dismay as she saw the obviously frightened form of Naomi Ramirez huddled on a cot. The peephole slammed shut, barely missing her nose, and the man's voice continued. "She's not our only guest. Your best behavior means they get to eat. Anything else will mean their deaths."
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part - 14 ↑
'Ouch. What the... My head really hurts. Lying down? Right. Eyes do *not* want to open. What's that noi... Oh. The infirmary. Shit. What happened ... Oh. Oh, God. Got ... to ... get ... up! What's wrong? Can't ... feel ... legs'
"Maggie, get Dr. Frasier. He's coming round."
"W't?"
"Easy, don't try to talk, sir."
"G't to kn'"
"Sir, please, you have a mild concussion, and Dr. Frasier had to remove some metal fragments. No major damage. You were very lucky."
"L'gs?"
"Still numb are they? You've got stitches in your right thigh, and left calf. Here," she held a spoon to his mouth, "try some of our world famous ice chips. Guaranteed to get the frog out of your throat. Well, almost."
"Thanks."
She smiled. "You're welcome. Now rest. Dr. Frasier will be here as soon as she can." Turning to leave, the young woman found her arm imprisoned in an iron grasp.
"Others? What happened to the others?"
Janet Frasier appeared from out of nowhere. "No one dead or even critical." She smiled as his face relaxed. "Two of Maybourne's men were the worst injured. They'll be confined here for several days, yet. *He* was safely behind them when the bazooka took out the car."
"Wh..."
"My turn. How many fingers?"
Squinting slightly he took a shot. "Three."
"Headache?"
"Yes."
"Hmmm. Honest for once. Odd. But acceptable."
"Wh..."
"Blood pressure's slightly elevated. So's your temperature. But that's to be expected. When the local anesthetic wears off, we'll see about releasing you."
"I need..."
"To stay flat on your back for a while."
"Look..."
Her temper flared. "No, *you* look, I haven't had enough sleep. I've got more patients in the infirmary at one time than I normally see in a week. This is *my* infirmary, and *you* will stay here, quietly, until I am ready to release you."
***********
Pink. The whole damn room was ... pink. At least it was a decent shade, not that hot color. Sam shuddered at the thought of the deep fluorescent pink she'd seen in the mall; she'd gotten vaguely nauseous when she'd seen it. Hmph. At least she understood *that* now.
The room was opulently furnished, looking more like a royal suite than a prison. Everything was done on a grand scale. From the king-size bed to the armoire, the furnishings were all oversized. And on the far wall was the largest media center she'd ever seen, along with a very annoying surveillance camera. The compact disc player was attached to wide variety of speakers and as for the television ...
Sam glared in frustration at the large projection television set. The shelves behind her contained an extensive selection of CD's and videotapes, but no access to any external channels. She'd run through all the channels, twice, and no signal was forthcoming. Dammit. She didn't *think* she'd been out long, but had no way to know for sure. She had enough medical knowledge to know that IV's could have sustained her for days. Hell, weeks, without her knowledge. Would anyone even know she was missing? Don't be stupid, Sam. Of course they'll know. And with Naomi Ramirez and at least one other unknown woman being held prisoner, the odds increased that a search was underway. She really wished she knew who the other prisoner was and where she was. Helplessness was not a familiar sensation for the Major, and her anger at her predicament rose with each passing moment.
Visions of the dying young airman on the road, interspersed with the equally young airman in the cell below her, were looping through her mind, refusing to be purged. Angrily, she tossed an oversized pillow at the shelves, miraculously dislodging only one tape. Sighing in frustration, she reached down and picked it up. 'The Mummy'. Modern version. Her thoughts turned to SG-1's own resident archaeologist, Daniel. He'd still been unconscious when the false message about her brother had arrived, and she was certain it was a false message. Thank God for small favors. But Daniel, he could be dead, or permanently brain-damaged for all she knew. And she was ... stuck, in this ... room, unable thus far to think of any way out of her predicament without risking the other women. And to make things even worse, there was just so much ... pink.
***********
George Hammond walked into the infirmary, and stood for a moment staring at the relative chaos, trying to locate SG-1. To add to the activity caused by the assault on the road, SG-8 had returned from off-world with rather severe cases of diarrhea. Initial testing had revealed an Earth-born, not alien, virus, and the team had been firmly pushed to the farthest corner of the infirmary to recover, well-away from those injured in the blast. Finally spotting his number one team, he made his way over to them.
Daniel sat quietly in a chair, a variety of scrapes, and bruises evident on his pale skin, and a rather large bandage dominating his forehead. Teal'c was nearby, also looking unusually peaked, but, recovering nicely thanks to Junior. O'Neill was looking much better than the last time Hammond had seen him, except for the anger in his eyes. Hammond cleared his throat to announce his arrival, but motioned the three men to remain where they were. "Colonel, how are you feeling?"
"Trapped. Sir, I can't just lie here, knowing Carter is a prisoner..."
"Can and will, Colonel, until Dr. Frasier deems you fit. Clear."
The crossed arms spoke volumes, but for once the mouth replied only, "Yes, sir."
Hammond nodded. "Well, as we suspected, Major Carter's brother and his wife are fine. No automobile accident. And before you ask, Colonel, the inquiries were discreet."
"That's all well and good, General, but it doesn't put us any closer to finding out who's responsible for all this. Or for that matter, to finding Carter and the other women. Sir, I really need to get out of here."
"Excuse me, sir, but I need to check on the Colonel." Janet Frasier slipped easily around the larger man to O'Neill's bedside. "Legs feeling okay, Colonel?"
"Yes."
"Hmmm. That's better."
"What?" Jack eyed her with confusion.
"This time you're lying about the pain. Here," she tossed a bottle of pills, "these will help control the pain, *and* they're real. I tested them myself. I would ask that you try *not* to pull out the stitches. I really hate it when my best work gets damaged."
Jack was already up, and searching for his pants, when Maybourne walked up, looking for all the world like the cat that ate the proverbial canary. "Trying to start a new style, O'Neill?"
Hammond interrupted before Jack could respond. "Inappropriate Colonel, considering your own people were badly injured."
"Sorry, sir." Somehow, his voice didn't sound very contrite.
"What do you want, Maybourne?" Jack pulled his pants over his hips, wincing as the motion sent waves of pain through his legs.
"I've found the connection between the women who are pregnant."
"Don't keep us in suspense, Maybourne, spill it."
"Patience, O'Neill, patience."
"His patience is not what you should worry about, *Colonel*." Hammond was also growing angry, Daniel was openly glaring, and even Teal'c was looking perturbed.
"Yes, sir. As you're aware, General, random complete physicals are done off site, away from SGC."
"I assume you're also aware that two of the women, Major Carter included, deny having had any sexual encounters, uh, recently enough to have caused their condition."
"I realize that, Colonel, what's your point?"
"Well, sir, I'm not a fan of the immaculate conception theory."
"Colonel..."
"Yes, sir. All of the pregnant women had their last complete physical off site."
"You're suggesting that the pregnancies were *not* a result of a natural process. That they were impregnated then?"
"Yes, sir, *and* Major Carter was *not* selected at random."
"What makes you think that?"
"Not think, General, know. The selection program's been altered. Major Carter's last annual physical was five months ago. She should not have been chosen for a random physical in less than six months from that date."
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part - 15 ↑
"And, before you say anything, O'Neill, my staff is already in the process of questioning the programming team." Maybourne's face revealed his pleasure at being one up on the other Colonel.
"Oh, I bet *they're* enjoying *that*." The scorn was evident in Jack's voice.
"W..Why do you think it's one of the programmers?"
"Because the program was changed, Dr. Jackson, although I suppose your degree in archaeology does mean you wouldn't know about things like that."
"Actually, I use the computer quite a bit, for research, not that *you'd* know about that, Maybourne. And there're a great many ways to handle selection criteria. Input parameters are quite common, and quite useful. Doesn't necessarily mean the program was changed."
"Input..." The Colonel's voice faded away.
"Input parameters. You know, things like numbers, sex, age ranges, date ranges... That sort of thing."
"But, but..."
Janet spoke up. "Daniel's right, Colonel. Just about anyone with access to the medical system at SGC could have changed the selection criteria at any time."
Jack fastened his belt, and glanced at a dumbfounded Maybourne. "Gee, tough luck, Maybourne. Guess that means you don't know as much as you thought, huh?"
*************
"Jackson survived *another* attempt?" There was a touch of awe in the furious voice of Hans Reicher. "The man really does have nine lives. ... Oh, *that* explains it. I told you the idiot would fail. ... Have you... Very good. And the body? Excellent. When can I expect to hear of success with Jackson. ... Outstanding. Pity I didn't think to employ you to start with." Sighing with satisfaction, Reicher disconnected, and leaned back in his chair. He clicked on the security videos, and panned until he found Samantha Carter, smiling as he watched her pace the confines of her quarters. A knock on the door brought a slight frown, then a shrug. "Come."
Howard moved quietly into the room and came to stand beside Reicher. The older man's eyes had never left the camera's view of his prisoner. "Ah, Dr. Howard, Samantha Carter is even more beautiful in person than her dossier photograph, do you not agree?"
"Yes. You sent for me ... sir."
The momentary hesitation was not lost on Reicher. "Mr. Stewart tells me that you were disappointed in the results of the last retrieval."
"Indeed, the mother had not had enough trips through the Stargate to warrant the retrieval. Although, I suppose one off-world experience is better than none."
"What about *her*?" Reicher nodded at the television screen.
"Ahh, she's an ideal candidate for retrieval or would be if you didn't have other plans for her. She's actually been through the gate three times since conception."
"She's less than four weeks along. Why so many trips?"
Howard didn't need to check his notes. "One was a trip to take medical supplies to PX7R39, the second was an aborted trip to a PQ6898, the heat was too much for the team, and the last was ..."
Reicher motioned impatiently for silence. "Dr. Howard, I do hope you remember my plans for this baby."
"Of course. The child will be the product of two Goa'uld parents. You're certain that the woman's genetic make-up is sufficient to produce such a child."
"She was host to Jolinar for several days, long enough to leave the protein marker in her system. I do not believe length of exposure to be important. Once the bond between host and symbiont is formed enough to leave the protein marker, the genetic changes are also made."
"You're certain that the Goa'uld father's genes alone will not produce the characteristics you're seeking?"
"Relatively. But I don't believe in taking chances. That's why you were asked to inseminate more than just Major Carter."
"I understand. But I must ask. Do you still believe that the translation of that text of Jackson's means immortality?"
"Of course. I assume you still disagree."
"Of course."
"Then we shall have to agree to disagree. Just make certain nothing interferes with *my* plans."
"You are paying the bills. May I return to the lab now?"
Reicher nodded and watched as the man closed the door as he left the room. Rising, the elderly geneticist turned to his computer, and pulled up the text in question. Reading the scanned image once more, he shook his head, unable to fathom how the normally brilliant Howard could be so badly off target. The passage plainly referred to the life span of the Goa'uld. It could only mean one thing and that was immortality. Howard was a fool to believe otherwise.
**********
Maybourne left the infirmary much less self-satisfied than when he'd arrived. Hammond shook his head in disgust and had turned to leave when Jack hit him with every argument in the book for SG-1 checking the off-site clinic in person. Hammond waited patiently through the impassioned pleas, then quickly gave his consent. Too quickly as far as Jack was concerned. The Colonel suddenly realized that he'd wasted a perfectly good grovel, dammit, Hammond would have said yes, regardless of the validity of the arguments.
Daniel trailed behind Jack and Teal'c as they left building, heading for Jack's jeep. It didn't take long for O'Neill to realize that Daniel was much too quiet. Teal'c also noticed, and almost as one the pair turned to face the younger man. For his part, Daniel was forced to stop abruptly to avoid a collision. "What?"
"A penny for them."
Confusion reigned on the younger man's face. "What?"
"Your thoughts, Daniel, and don't try to deny that your mind has been running rampant. I, uh, we recognize the symptoms."
Daniel grinned, then sobered quickly. "Why Sam?"
"Apparently because she was pregnant."
"No, I mean *why* is she pregnant?"
"Daniel Jackson, I believe the correct explanation is the fertilization of a human egg, with a human sperm."
"Ya think?"
Daniel shook his head. "No, Teal'c, I meant why would anyone choose her? It's obvious, even to Maybourne, that Sam being chosen was deliberate. What sets her apart?"
"Other than the fact that she's super intelligent, brave, sorta pretty, uh, in a military sort of way, and she goes through the Stargate a lot?"
"Yeah."
"Nothing that I can think of."
"I can."
"Dammit, Daniel. *What*?"
"She was host to Jolinar."
"Daniel, have you noticed a tendency to put that Goa'uld..."
"Tok'ra. Jolinar was Tok'ra."
"Whatever. Goa'uld, Tok'ra, Snake... same difference. As I was saying, every time something strange happens, Sam's former roommate gets brought up."
"Well, it is a difference, this time, for sure."
"So?"
"Well, I was just thinking..."
Jack gave an exasperated sigh. "We *know* that, Daniel, but what about?"
"Sha'uri told me that..."
"Geez, Daniel, not that Har, har..."
"Harcisus."
"Right. Not *that* again. You know we'll look for the kid, but..."
"No, no, no. You don't get it. Sam is for all intents and purposes a Goa'uld mother."
"Excuse me?"
"She's got the protein marker of the Goa'uld. Marchello's little n..nightmares knew she was a former host, so they abandoned her while they stayed in Janet, you and m...me."
Jack didn't fail to notice the stammer in Daniel's speech. "I know I'm gonna hate myself, but so?"
Daniel took a deep breath. "What if they've got a Goa'uld father?"
"You mean another Goa'uld on Earth? Like Seth?"
"Well, maybe, but we've played host to injured Goa'ulds before, Apophis, Cronus. The doctors did lots of tests, collected lots of samples. Are any of us certain that we know *all* the samples that were taken?"
"Dr. Frasier would not deliberately do anything to harm Samantha Carter." Teal'c's replied firmly.
"No, No. Not Janet. But someone on her staff. Someone who could get the samples out of the SGC. Mess with the selection program, *and*," Daniel paused for a moment, "notify their employer when one of the women turned up pregnant. Doesn't it strike you odd that Sam was taken so quickly after the test results came in?"
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part - 16 ↑
Jack's face grew grim. "You're telling me that Carter's baby could be one of these Harcisus kids?"
"*If* the father's a Goa'uld, yes."
"And that's why she was kidnapped?"
"Most probably, yes."
"What about the other women?"
"I have no idea. Teal'c, didn't you say you'd never known a Goa'uld host to father a human child?"
"That is most correct, Daniel Jackson."
"Then maybe some of the Goa'uld genetic links are passed on even to a non-Goa'uld mother."
"Sweet." Jack started walking toward his Jeep again. "Well, Maybourne is working on finding the leak at SGC, and *I* want to talk to the people who did the actual physicals. If Maybourne's right, they're the ones who actually hurt these women."
"The women are not injured, O'Neill, merely pregnant."
Daniel shook his head. "No, Teal'c. I don't know how the others feel, but for the women who were impregnated by artificial insemination, somehow without their knowledge, the mere act could be considered a form of rape."
*********
Samantha Carter lay on the king-sized bed and pretended *not* to see the surveillance camera. She was disturbed by its presence, but had to concede that, as a prisoner, she could expect to be monitored. So what *exactly* was it that bothered her about the camera. The unknown person manning it? No. She really could care less about some nameless, faceless, probably brainless lackey doing a job. Then what? Exasperated she focused her vision on the video she'd absently stuffed into the VCR. How fitting, she'd picked 'Pretty in Pink'. Shit. At least it went with the room. Angrily she grabbed for the remote control and tried to click the VCR off. Nothing. Irritated beyond words, she jumped off the bed and moved to the media wall. The VCR was crooked, so the infrared signal wouldn't work. As she reached to straighten it, she caught the camera out of the corner of her eye, and knew. *This* camera was a fake. From its position in the room, she could not be seen standing next to the media wall. That meant another monitoring device, and the logical location was in the huge TV screen in front of her. And *that* might mean more of a load on the circuitry behind the media center than she'd originally thought. Cataloging that bit of information, she quickly pulled another video at random from the shelves and inserted it into the VCR.
************
Teal'c rode shotgun as Jack maneuvered the twists and turns of