STARGATE SG-1 29 Hall of the Two Truths (15 page)

She was still going with ‘clone.’

“And where exactly are our real selves?”

“Dead, of course.”

“Dead.” He couldn’t seriously expect her to believe this. “So, I’m actually lying on the ground in some dungeon where that Goa’uld shot me, is what you’re saying?”

He shrugged. “That is quite possible.”

“And the others?” She didn’t bother to conceal her scornful tone. “Colonel O’Neill, Daniel, Teal’c — are their
Bas
here too?”

“Regrettably, yes.”

“Regrettably?”

“I’m afraid your friends have been classified as ‘Enemies of the Gods.’ Their fate here has not been… kind.”

Sam stopped short and wheeled on him. Martouf nearly ran into her.

“Explain.” Even if she didn’t buy his ridiculous tale, it didn’t mean that her team couldn’t be in real trouble.

“Those who have displeased the gods in life, are punished in death. There are places here where such sentences are carried out. They are… unpleasant, to say the least. It is best to avoid them, if possible.”

Like hell she would. “Show me.”

“Samantha, believe me, you do not —”

“I
said,
show me.”

There must have been enough danger in her voice to make him rethink his effort to dissuade her.

“Very well.” He sighed with resignation. “Not far ahead, the path divides. We will take the one to the left.”

Sam nodded curtly, hoping she’d enforced the idea that lying to her would not be in his best interest, and resumed walking.

“What about me?” she asked after she’d calmed enough to think rationally again. “Why am I not an ‘Enemy of the Gods?’ I’ve killed my share of Goa’uld. How come I get special treatment?”

“Because you have an advocate, Samantha. Someone who has come forward to speak on your behalf.”

She snorted. “Yeah? And who would that be, you?”

“Actually, yes.”

Sam smiled bitterly and turned to glare at him over her shoulder. “Now see, the real Martouf wouldn’t be able to do that because he’d be standing right there with Colonel O’Neill and Teal’c and Daniel and myself, proud to be an ‘Enemy of the Gods.’” She could feel her anger brimming close to the surface again. “He spent his whole life fighting the Goa’uld,” she went on, passionately. “And with his last breath he was still fighting them. So don’t try to tell me he’d ever stand here and deny who he was.”

“There are things stronger than hatred, Samantha.” Martouf’s voice was still calm even in the face of her anger. “And what a man may not do to save himself, he may yet do to save another. Especially if that other is someone he carries in his heart.”

Okay. There was no way she was touching that. He was obviously still trying to manipulate her feelings, and regardless of her response, she’d only be encouraging him. She left his words unanswered and focused on the path ahead.

Now that she had an actual destination, Sam picked up the pace. It was already warm enough that she’d stuffed the gloves in her pocket and unbuttoned her coat. If the temperature continued to rise at its current rate she’d consider discarding them altogether. Without a weapon, speed might be her best defense if it came down to having to rescue the others. A bulky coat would only slow her down.

Besides. It really wasn’t doing her much good against the cold knot of fear that had lodged in the pit of her stomach at the thought that she might already be too late.

“
WHAT an unexpected surprise. How lovely to see you again, Jenmar. It has been far too long.”

Tanith’s voice made Jenmar’s skin crawl. How had he failed to see such duplicity back on Vorash? Perhaps what he had mistaken for friendship had blinded him. In hindsight, all the indications of Tanith’s true nature were evident, if only he had been willing to see.

There was little comfort in realizing he had allowed his presumption of a shared purpose to lead him astray yet again.

“I come from Aset a’Teneb.” There was no point in drawing this out. The sooner it was over with, the better. He had no desire to exchange pleasantries with Tanith. “She sends a gift for your master. It is a promise of things to come.” Jenmar handed over the box Aset had given him.

Opening it, Tanith carefully removed the contents. It was a spiked sphere, small enough to fit into the palm of one’s hand. Tanith’s eyes widened as he held it up for examination, his smile broadening.

“
A most welcomed gift indeed.
” He returned it to the box, snapping closed the lid before passing it to an attending Jaffa. “
I trust Aset has also provided a list of her terms.
”

Jenmar produced the crystal and offered it wordlessly. Where his rage had been before, he now felt only emptiness. It was nearly incomprehensible that he should find himself here, of all places, when a few short hours ago he had aspired to so much more.

Tanith was reading the contents of the crystal at a nearby console. Jenmar stood far enough back to not appear to be looking over his shoulder. Nevertheless, he could still make out some of the writing. The words ‘Ancient’, ‘storehouse’ and ‘Tau’ri’ figured prominently in the text.

“
Excellent.”
Tanith removed the crystal and the screen went blank. “
I will, of course, need to present this to my master, but I am confident an agreement can be reached.
”

The door to the room slid open and two armed Jaffa stepped through, positioning themselves on either side of the opening. At first Jenmar thought they had come to escort Tanith, but when he swept out of the room, and they remained, their purpose became clear.

Tanith paused in the passageway beyond and called back to Jenmar. “
Perhaps, when our deal is concluded, we might toast our renewed alliance.
” His eyes glittered with amusement. “
What is the phrase — ‘For old time’s sake?’
” Jenmar was certain he heard Tanith’s low laugh as the door slid shut.

In his pocket, Jenmar’s fingers curled tightly around Aset’s remaining crystal. He could guess what information it contained. In the other pocket, his palm cradled the orb NebtHet had given him. The irony that he now stood on the very
ha’tak
she had sent him to find was not lost on him.

Wearily, he took the only seat available in the room — a long, low bench that offered little in the way of comfort. There was nothing to do now except wait. With the guards at the door, he was going nowhere.

Then again, there really was nowhere for him to go.

“THERE is an oasis up ahead. We will stop there and rest,” Sha’re informed Daniel after another hour or so had passed. He didn’t feel so much tired as dry. Even in the cool of night, something about the constant dredging through sand seemed to suck the moisture out of him. He’d tried to ration his canteen, but now he was running precariously low. An oasis would have fresh water and it would feel good to sit for a while.

Daniel found it more than a little curious that Sha’re seemed to know what lay ahead. In all the texts of the Egyptian underworld he had studied, he’d never found any which described the exact route through it. They provided no maps to help the deceased navigate their way to the Hall of the Two Truths. It was, as he understood it, not a place defined by geography as much as by experience, with no two journeys ever being exactly alike. Daniel could understand how, if this really was the afterlife, his journey and Sha’re’s might be joined, but that didn’t account for her knowing so much — and he so little. The only way that made sense was if he was correct in his supposition that this was something else entirely.

It took almost another hour of walking to reach their destination. Faint hints of dawn etched the horizon at their backs as the silhouettes of palm-like trees emerged in the distance. By the time they reached them, day had fully come.

They found an outcropping of stone that hung out over the lake — a large, flat rock upon which it seemed many others before them had paused to rest. Both he and Sha’re drank their fill from the clear water below before taking out their canteens and refilling them. That task done, Sha’re leaned back, arms propped behind her, and lifted her face toward the sun. She looked perfectly at peace.

Daniel couldn’t help but watch her. In every way, she was his Sha’re, exactly as he remembered her. Each tendril of hair, each perfect earlobe, each curve of her body which his own still yearned for on long, lonely nights. How hard would it be to let go of his doubts and just accept her as she was? How easy would it be to extend his hand and simply caress her cheek, her hair, her lips —

His musing came to an abrupt halt. Something had moved along the edge of the lake. He hadn’t noticed it before. In the shadows, it had been indistinguishable from the landscape. As he watched, whatever it was sidled off toward the darker cover of the nearby copse of palms.

Daniel scrambled to his feet, keeping his eye on the shape so as to not lose it in the shadows. It must have realized it had been seen, because it suddenly sped up, running for the trees. Daniel sprinted after it.

It did not get far. After a few strides, it stumbled in one of the errant sandpits that pockmarked the oasis and fell. Even then the woman — as he closed in, Daniel could see that she was, in fact, female — began to scurry fervently across the ground, as if she might somehow be able to escape before he reached her. With a few more strides he was in front of her, blocking her way.

And trying to figure out what she was.

In form, he supposed, she was human, although, judging by her appearance, she was long past the prime of her life. Her face might have been beautiful in its day. There were vestiges of once-fine features: a proud aquiline nose, brown-speckled eyes, a chin that could be described as haughty. But time had caught up with her. Her cheeks were hollow and her eyes sunken. Matted gray hair hung over her face. Angular bones showed clearly beneath her coppery skin which, despite having the texture of leather, nonetheless seemed fragile, as if at a mere touch it would lose its tenuous hold and slip off her meager frame.

She looked like a living corpse. Or a mummy.

In spite of her appearance, she was still agile. Staggering to her feet, she turned to flee again, only to come face to face with Sha’re, who had followed Daniel from the lake. Seeing her only hope of escape thwarted, the old woman sank to the ground again and began to wail.

“Stop, please —” Daniel implored, looking down at her in dismay. He hadn’t meant to frighten her, but she was the only person, aside from Sha’re, he’d seen since he got here. Questions were going off in his head like flashbulbs.

She did not look at him but only continued her keening, occasionally beating her breast with her fist. Daniel looked helplessly at Sha’re, but she only shrugged, as uncertain what to do as he was.

“Look,” he tried again, “we don’t want to hurt you. I promise. It’s just you’re the first person we’ve come upon and we wanted to talk to you. That’s all.”

“Help me, help me, help me…” she wept, over and over again.

Daniel knelt beside her, trying not to let her appearance bother him. Unfortunately, she smelled as horrible as she looked. “How can we help you? Tell us what to do.”

The woman’s sobs lessened and she peered closely at Daniel through her tangled, filthy hair. Her eyes widened as if in recognition and she recoiled slightly. Her gaze flitted over to Sha’re, and he saw recognition there too, but of a completely different kind.

“I know you!” she cried, flinging herself on the hem of Sha’re’s robe and gathering it in her fists. “Oh my Queen! Amaunet! Save me!” She reached up a desiccated arm in supplication to Sha’re, who tried to back away from her, but could not, as the woman held on with surprising strength. Daniel saw an uncharacteristic flash of anger in Sha’re’s eyes.

“I am not your queen, old woman,” she replied, sharply. “That was the demon who lived within me. The demon who is now long dead. As you too shall soon be, I think.”

“Sha’re?” He was taken aback by the look of disgust on her face. Daniel wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her speak like that. At least, not as Sha’re. “Do you know her?”

Sha’re at last managed to free herself from the old woman’s grasp, leaving her whimpering in the dirt.

“Know her? Yes. Only too well.” Sha’re nearly spat out her answer. “Her face is forever seared into my mind, even if the demon did possess it at the time.” She looked finally at Daniel and her face softened into a kind of grief. “She is the one to whom Amaunet gave my child. She is the one who took him from me and hid him away.”

Daniel looked at the woman on the ground and felt an uncontrollable loathing of his own. Yet he had seen the woman who had brought Shifu to Kheb. They had found her, murdered by Apophis’ Jaffa, as she fled with the child into the forest. But she had been a Jaffa priestess. This woman —

“I served my Queen!” she hissed at them, suddenly vigorous in her apparent hatred. Out of their two sunken hollows, her eyes abruptly glowed.

— was a Goa’uld.

“
I did as she commanded
.” The old woman’s voice was strong with pride. She looked first at one and then the other, her speech taking on the tenor of the symbiote within. “
She knew I would be followed. So she instructed me to find a priestess to take the child far away. To a place that no one even knew existed.
”