STARGATE SG-1 29 Hall of the Two Truths (13 page)

Halfway to the stairs she stopped and turned around. “General, there is something else that I think you should know.” Freya’s face was troubled. “Earlier, I mentioned that none among us knew Jenmar well. His area of expertise — the translation of alien languages — tended to make for an isolated life.”

Hammond waited. There had to be more.

“What we did not tell you at the time was that there was one Tok’ra who did, in fact, befriend Jenmar. I do not think it has any relevance to what has happened to SG-1, but I feel, in the interest of full disclosure, that I must share that information with you.”

“Do I know this Tok’ra?” Hammond had an uneasy feeling in his gut.

“I regret to say that you do. And that, also, in the end, he proved not to be Tok’ra but a Goa’uld spy.”

Hammond could only think of one name. “Tanith.”

Freya nodded. “He is, however, dead now, so I do not see how it could have any bearing on Jenmar’s actions. Nevertheless, I thought you should know.”

Hammond watched her go, unsure whether he should be grateful for the extra information or irate that it hadn’t been brought forth sooner. While Freya was probably right — with Tanith dead there wasn’t much chance his connection to Jenmar was relevant to SG-1’s disappearance — it was still troubling. One more thing to add to his list of concerns.

In the meantime, finding this Duat was his number one priority. The Tok’ra might be his best bet, but it was worth putting in a call to the Tollan and the Asgard as well.

And if he came up empty on all three…?

Well. He could only hope SG-1 would figure out a way home on their own.

SHE wasn’t his Carter.

Jack had come to that conclusion about forty-five minutes into their hike through the miserable, chilly rainforest after watching her take point the entire time.

Oh sure, she looked like Carter. And she sounded like Carter. And although he tried not to think about it too much, she even smelled like Carter.

But she wasn’t Carter. At least not his version of her. He could tell by the way she moved. Her lack of attention to what was around her. The way she would start when he’d come up behind her quietly and then speak. His Carter moved like a cat. She was always alert, always on her guard. Always ready for the unexpected.

This Carter was none of these. Which really begged the question, who the hell was she?

His mind ran through as many options as he could think of.

She could be another robot Carter. The first one was, well, dead, he guessed, was the best way to put it. And Harlan had sworn up and down that he wouldn’t make any more. But could you really trust a guy who stole your DNA when you were unconscious and said Kumbya all the time?

Still, Robot Carter had been a pretty damn good copy, he had to admit. If he hadn’t known she was wires and circuits, she’d have passed as the flesh and blood Carter any day of the week. So the chance of this one running on power packs was probably slim to none.

Option two: she was a clone. As far as he knew, only the Asgard had cloning technology, but you never knew. Some Goa’uld could have gotten their hands on one of those things and figured out how to reset it so it didn’t pop out little gray-butted aliens every time. But then there was that whole ‘downloaded consciousness’ thing, which meant she’d basically be the same Carter she’d always been and he wouldn’t be here trying to figure out why she wasn’t. So yeah. No clone.

But he did feel a slight headache coming on after trying to sort that theory out.

Option three: she
was
his Carter, just — not. Of all three possibilities, this one scared him the most. Because if she really was Carter, then the ‘not’ part meant that someone had messed with her in some way, and the thought of that happening to her again made him feel sick in his gut. If some damn snake had wrapped itself around her brain, or some kind of alien entity had taken over her body —

He scrubbed his face with his hand, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. But try as he might, they persisted.

The real question, he supposed, wasn’t so much
what
she was but what was he going to do about it. She still hadn’t given him any reason not to trust her, and by letting her take the lead, he was able to keep an eye on her. He guessed he’d just have to wait and see what happened — and be ready when it did.

“So how do we know this trail is the one that gets us to this place, anyway?” Jack called out as they slogged through the woods. Branches drooping with the weight of the rain hung low and in Jack’s path. He’d stopped batting them out of the way when he realized that doing so only caused the water to backsplash into his face.

“We don’t, sir,” Carter called back to him. “But it does seem to be the only path available. If we assume that the plaque on the tomb was meant as a set of instructions, then it would make sense that the path would lead us to where we are supposed to go.”

“I’ve assumed a lot of things in my life, Carter, that haven’t turned out to be true. But we’ll do this one your way and see what happens.”

She turned slightly and he could see her bright smile.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll try not to disappoint you.”

Okay. Definitely
not
Carter. He may have been avoiding her lately, but he did know that what had happened on K’tau had eaten away at her the entire three weeks they’d spent there. And still was, as far as he knew. No way she was this chipper. Not these days.

Which left him right back where he’d started: lots of questions, and no answers.

Yet.

“So whaddaya think this Two Halls place is, anyway?” It was worth a try.

“Hall of the Two Truths,” she corrected him again. By now the real Carter would have given up. “And I have no idea, sir.”

So much for that tactic.

“Except —” she continued, unexpectedly. “I think I remember Daniel talking about it once.”

Jack pricked up his ears. Maybe this would be more productive than he thought. “Do tell?”

“Well,” she began, apparently encouraged, “if I recall correctly, the Hall of the Two Truths is where the final judgment is made. When you get there, you confess your sins and then have your heart weighed against a feather to see if you are worthy enough to enter the afterlife.”

“A feather.”

“Yes sir. If it balances, you get to live for eternity. If it doesn’t —”

“Yeah. I get the picture.” It did sound like some of that stuff Daniel was going on about all the time. And since when did Carter actually pay attention to it any more than he did? “Sounds like some Goa’uld’s idea of a good time, if you ask me.” Was he imagining it or did he see her flinch slightly at that. “Speaking of snakes, what do you make of all this? Think we’re dealing with a bunch of Goa’ulds here?”

She shrugged. “Hard to say, sir.”

He waited for more, but that seemed like all she had to offer on the topic. Right. Maybe he’d have to prod her a bit.

“Well, if you ask me, I’d say we’re probably walking right into a trap. It’s got Goa’uld written all over it, as far as I’m concerned. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if that Tok’ra — Jenmar? — wasn’t a Goa’uld himself. Hell, I’m thinking we were set up, right from the start.”

The smile she threw him was more of a grimace this time. He watched as her whole body tensed.

“That’s something of a leap, isn’t it, Colonel?” she replied hesitantly. He might even have said flustered. Good. It seemed he had her a bit off-balance.

“Oh I don’t think so, Carter.” He pressed on. “I mean, look at the evidence. This Tok’ra we’ve never even heard of before comes and dangles some Ancient ruins in front of Hammond that are just too tempting to resist. The minute said Tok’ra shows up at said-same ruins, we get overrun by a fleet of death gliders. Next thing you know, we wake up in a dungeon — with this same Tok’ra, mind you — where we promptly get ourselves killed by not one, but two, Goa’ulds.” He held up two fingers for emphasis. “Only to get brought back to life — in a Goa’uld sarcophagus, by the way — just so we can go on some kind of damn quest to find this Two Halls of Truth.”

“Hall of the Two Truths —”

“Whatever.” He dodged another low hanging, water-logged branch. “I don’t know about you, Carter, but I’m sensing a common theme here.”

“I guess when you put it that way —”

“You have another theory?”

It took her a few moments before she replied. “No, sir. I guess not. But it could be that we don’t have all the facts yet. Just because we can draw a possible conclusion based on circumstantial evidence, doesn’t mean that it’s the correct conclusion. I agree that the series of events that brought us here seem to suggest that there’s some degree of Goa’uld involvement. But I’d rather not make any assumptions until we get more data.”

Okay, well, that
did
sound like Carter. Sort of. At least, the Carter he’d expect to hear back at the SGC turning over a theoretical problem. But it wasn’t the Carter he was used to in the field, the one who knew how to assess a threat and was ready for every contingency.

Which meant that whoever, or whatever, this was in front of him knew Carter well enough to get some of her right — but not all of her.

Just like Jolinar.

He didn’t know whether to be sick at the thought, or angry as hell. Maybe he’d just have to go with both.

“Oh, I’d say I’ve got just about all the data I need,” he muttered under his breath, going, for the moment, with ‘angry as hell.’

She must have heard him because she looked back over her shoulder and said brightly, “I guess, sir, we’ll just have to wait and see.”

He tossed her an acknowledging half-smile that barely made it past a sneer.

Somehow he didn’t think he’d have to wait all that long.

Bra’tac took the lead, forging into the unknown wilderness with the vigor of a man half his age. Rya’c followed close behind. Teal’c couldn’t help but notice that the boy was trying to keep as great a distance from him as possible. He tried not to take the boy’s behavior to heart, yet it was apparent that his son blamed him for what had transpired. The blame was well placed, Teal’c could not deny. He had failed Rya’c — and Drey’auc. As an absent father and husband he had not been there to protect those he loved most. The destruction of the false gods and the freedom of all Jaffa must, he had always known, come at a price. He had never intended for his family to pay it.

It was most likely too late for Drey’auc. But he would do everything in his power to restore his son to life. It would be worth any price to know that his son might yet live to see the end of Goa’uld oppression.

And should that day ever come, perhaps Rya’c would then understand why he had done as he had done, and think well of him.

“You are too much in your own thoughts, my friend.” Bra’tac had dropped back and allowed Rya’c to take point for a while. The old man now walked by Teal’c’s side, stride for stride.

“Is not the point of one’s journey through Duat to contemplate the strengths and weaknesses of one’s life?” Teal’c rejoined.

“Indeed it is.” Bra’tac smiled. “But one must be careful not to dwell too much on what is past. Those pages have already been written. The story cannot be untold.”

“Perhaps not.” Teal’c’s eyes followed the back of the long-limbed youth ahead of them. “But new chapters may yet be added.”

“Ahhhh.” Bra’tac grasped his meaning. “You are right of course. For one of us, at least, the story will go on.” He gave Teal’c a sidelong glance. “Do you not wonder how it is possible to restore one to life, once they have entered Duat?” Before Teal’c could reply, he continued. “Sacrifice, Teal’c, is the only way. A life for a life.”

“Someone must die to take Rya’c’s place?”

“In a manner of speaking. But we will talk more of this later. Look.” The trees had thinned and a vast expanse of sweeping grass stretched as far as Teal’c could see. Bra’tac’s voice barely contained his excitement. “Does it not resemble the Cord’ai Plains of Chulak?”

It did indeed bear a striking resemblance to the Cord’ai Plains. To their left, in the distance, rose a range of blue-hued mountains, their ragged peaks muted by low-hanging clouds. Far to their right was a barely discernable line of trees. The High Cliffs and the Chompka Groves.

“Do not be fooled by illusion, Teal’c.” Bra’tac seemed to have guessed where his thoughts had strayed. “We remain in Duat. But our thoughts and experiences have created it for us, so it is little wonder that it mirrors our longing for home.” He clasped his hand firmly on Teal’c’s shoulder and smiled. “Come, my friend. Now our journey truly begins.”

“HOW goes the great experiment? Are your subjects behaving according to plan?” Aset leaned over NebtHet’s shoulder to peer at one of the screens. “Major Carter does not appear to be enjoying the company of her companion, does she?”

NebtHet stiffened. Aset’s continued pessimism made her weary.

“Things may not be evolving precisely as we had anticipated, but our people have been well trained. They are adapting to the situation. I am confident they will keep things moving along as planned.”