The Mountain King Part 10

The somber group left the lab behind and continued down the long hall. In spite of his gloom, Makepeace couldn't help but smile when the hall ended at yet another of Varayimshaeta's audience chambers. Seemed he'd guessed right, after all. Idly, he wondered if every level contained one of these rooms. No, they were too tall. Some levels would have to be skipped. But they probably appeared with regularity every ten stories or so. He imagined a soaring tower, the highest in the city, with a pillar of vibrant energy stretching from its tip down into this world's deepest recesses, perhaps even into its molten core.

The interior of this chamber looked identical to the other two he'd seen. But the light column pulsed faster than it had before, like a heart overloaded on too much adrenaline. At irregular intervals, electronic flutes fluttered and trilled over the bass beats, then went silent again.

Conspicuously placed in front of the light column's guard rail were SG-3's weapons, ammunition, GDOs, and rucksacks. Their belongings had been arranged in four neat piles.

"Do you guys see what I see?" Andrews asked.

"Oh, yeah," Makepeace said, resisting the urge to just charge up there and arm himself.

Johnson said, "I wonder what's up?"

"I'm sure Vara's going to tell us what it's got in mind. It hasn't been real shy about its plans before."

The servitors floated away and took up positions at the rear of the room. Makepeace eyed them curiously. Their normal behavior was to act as guards, but on this trip they had seemed more like guides. He regarded the pulsing, blue-white light. The source of Varayimshaeta's agitation seemed plain enough to him; the earlier attacks would have upset anyone. Now, though, things were calm. There had been no explosions since SG-3 had been released from the bunker. Makepeace wanted to know why the attack had ceased, and who was responsible for it. He expected that Varyimshaeta would explain. Why else would the AI bring them here?

He wasn't disappointed. Electronic warbling filled the air, rising and falling like a dying, mournful wind. The sounds faded into silence, then Varayimshaeta spoke in English. "You must leave."

This was unexpected, although the sight of their gear in the room should have given him some warning. Makepeace mistrusted Varayimshaeta's motives. Until now, it had done everything in its considerable power to keep SG-3 on its premises. Now it was just kicking them out?

"About damn time," Johnson muttered.

Makepeace shushed him, then asked, "Vara, what's going on?"

As an answer, two hexagonal viewscreens formed in the air to the right of the light column. On the left one Makepeace saw the image of a Goa'uld pyramid ship settled on the planet's surface. Sitala's face appeared on the other viewscreen. She spoke in Goa'uld.

"I have got to take the time to learn that damned language," Makepeace mumbled under his breath. He'd make it a priority if--when--they got back to Earth. Then he heard Sitala utter the word "Tau'ri" and his blood turned to ice water.

"What's this all about, Vara?" he asked quietly.

Varayimshaeta said, "Yesterday, Sitala returned with her voidship and laid siege to this enclosure. She has demanded control of my World, and that you four be placed in her custody. To demonstrate her resolve, she has repeatedly attacked this access point with energy weapons."

Makepeace said, "So you locked us in that bunker to hide us from the Goa'uld, as well as protect us from the attack."

"Yes." The word reverberated through the chamber, echoing off the milky crystal walls. "But that precaution was too late. Sitala already knew you were here. She has given me one hour to comply with her demands. Upon my failure to do so, she will renew the assault."

Makepeace grimaced. He knew why they were so valuable to Varayimshaeta. He also knew he didn't want to become Sitala's prisoner. Death was literally the best he and his men could hope for from her.

"Why did she happen to come back now? None of us believe in coincidences that big," Andrews said. "And just how did she even find out about us?"

"There was no coincidence," Varayimshaeta said. "After her virus was eradicated from this world, Sitala placed surveillance devices at the Chenvwathd Gateway and the Zand-Faylakk road system." Two more viewscreens appeared in midair, on the left side of the light column. One showed a cylindrical object of burnished gold next to the Stargate, the other displayed another of the devices between the two yellow roads.

"Oh, hell," Andrews groaned. "It's the giant dildos."

Henderson said, "The one by the Stargate was inactive. We didn't get any power readings from it at all."

"More to the point, Vara," said Makepeace, "why did you leave those things alone? Why didn't you remove them as soon as you detected them?"

All the hexagon displays vanished. Varayimshaeta said, "Until the attack, I was unaware of their presence. Sitala's devices have no internal power sources to distinguish them from normal background radiation."

Makepeace nodded in understanding. "Unlike our MALP." Typically, the MALPs remained electrically active, to investigate a new planet for environmental hazards and for signs of inhabitants.

"Correct. Intensive diagnostic scans revealed that Sitala's devices were designed to be powered by large energy surges in the immediate environment. When such an energy surge occurred, the device would activate, scan the area, and transmit a compressed signal out into the void. The devices then discharged any remaining power to place themselves back into an inert state. Power fluctuations from the activation of the Chenvwathd Gateway and the Zand-Faylakk road system disguised their periods of activity."

Henderson said, "That's why you didn't know about them before. The Goa'uld must've dropped off the one by the road as they were leaving this planet the first time. And then they just came back through the Stargate and set up the second one inside the sealed dome enclosure. It might have activated when they left again, but the Stargate's own energy masked it from you."

Varayinshaeta said, "When Sitala returned and demanded you four be delivered to her, it was clear that she had somehow detected your presence here. More intensive scanning and environmental analyses revealed the devices."

"Translation," Andrews said dryly, "you went looking for bugs."

"The devices have now been rendered inoperative."

"A little late for that," Johnson muttered.

The light column pulsed even faster. "The time Sitala allotted this cease-fire is almost at an end. You must leave now."

Makepeace didn't know what Varayimshaeta had in mind. The area around this city was certain to be a war zone, probably swarming with Jaffa, death gliders, and who knew what other war machines. SG-3 could try to fight, but the odds against them were overwhelming. They were at least a hundred miles away from the Stargate by his estimate, so there was no way they could make a run for it.

Another unpleasant option came to him. "Are you handing us over to her?"

"No!" The word boomed out, an atonal maelstrom that vibrated the air. The light globes overhead paused in their orbits, then resumed their eternal circling. Whispers of sound swirled through the room like blowing leaves.

Makepeace figured he'd actually managed to insult the machine. He remembered that it had loved its people, in its own, alien way. Since it had planned to repopulate its planet with SG-3's genetic descendants, it might very well feel a similar attachment to them. A mind-boggling idea, but it fit with Varayimshaeta's outraged reaction.

"Then where do you expect us to go?" he asked. "We can't make it through Sitala's forces and get back to the Stargate on our own."

"You will return to the Chenvwathd Enclosure as you came."

"You're sending us back on your train?" Makepeace scowled. "I would have expected Sitala to destroy the roads out of here, to cut off those escape routes. It's what I would have done."

"The Zand-Faylakk road system was damaged and deactivated," Varayimshaeta confirmed. "Repairs have been effected. The road system shall remain deactivated until you are ready to depart."

"You hope that'll fool Sitala into thinking it's still not working."

"Correct. Please collect your weapons and belongings."

"Please, it says," Andrews muttered. "Couldn't have asked nicely before, could it? What a time to learn some manners."

Makepeace walked forward, gesturing at his men to get their stuff. He picked up his M4 carbine and grenade launcher. The weapon nestled comfortably in his arm like the old friend it was. He checked it. Fully loaded, ready to rumble. He strapped on a GDO, and hefted his rucksack. It felt too light.

A quick inspection revealed that Varayimshaeta had included only the bare minimum of supplies: loaded magazines, grenades, two canteens, and a handful of energy bars. Makepeace didn't complain; he'd have made the same choices. No matter what happened, they'd need to move fast and travel light. For the same reason, he didn't ask about the missing FRED. He gnawed his cheek at this further evidence of his mental violation, but kept his mouth shut. In this situation, Varayimshaeta's extra knowledge was an advantage.

SG-3 geared up quickly. Makepeace asked, "What next, Vara?"

"The servitors will escort you to the debarkation platform. You will board the transport. The road system will be reactivated, and you will depart."

Andrews snorted in derision. "And Sitala's death gliders will blow the train clean off the road."

"Your departure will be protected."

Makepeace thought back to SG-3's first encounter with Varayimshaeta's servitors. The frightening weather, the tornado, the sound stunners. Those things might have limited effectiveness against a Goa'uld warship, but his implanted memories told him Varayimshaeta was capable of much, much more. Mother Nature had nothing on this alien creation.

"Vara, you control the entire planet," he said. "Why haven't you destroyed the Goa'uld, or at least chased them away like before?"

"Such action would eradicate all life on the World. The taint of Sitala cannot be cleansed until you have departed."

So. The bunker wouldn't have protected them from another radiation outflow. "Then...thanks for holding off on the big guns," Makepeace said, grateful for Varayimshaeta's concern for their lives.

"Sitala will be removed. The Goa'uld will not be permitted to ever return here again. The World will be purified, and made safe for all time." The words resounded, echoing off the walls, the floor, the ceiling. The air throbbed with the machine's implacable wrath.

Andrews whispered to Makepeace, "That sounds ominous. We'd better hurry this along, sir."

Varayimshaeta said, "You will go with the servitors. Now." The chorus of electronic voices had lost virtually all synchronization, becoming almost incomprehensible. The light globes flashed urgently.

The pillar of light flared with blinding incandescence. Makepeace threw his arms over his face, shielding his eyes from the brilliance. The terrible, unbearable illumination lasted only a few seconds, then the light dimmed. Makepeace lowered his hands.

Varayimshaeta's light column was gone.

"Shit," said Andrews.

Makepeace stared at the vacant space inside the guard rails, at the empty aperture in the arching ceiling. The light globes hung motionless in the still air. An oppressive silence weighed down on him like a smothering blanket.

"This cannot be good," Henderson said.

Makepeace agreed with that assessment. Six spheres floated forward and surrounded the men. Makepeace wasn't inclined to argue with them. "Move out," he told his team. "We need to hustle."

"Wait," Johnson said, stubbornly refusing to budge. "Colonel, what about the babies?"

Makepeace drew in a long, resigned breath and exhaled it slowly. He'd already made his decision on this subject. "Johnson, you heard what Henderson said about them. They're too young. We can't remove them from the tanks without killing them. They're dead no matter what."

"No, sir, I can't believe that. Vara's got to have some way, some technology we can use to transport them." Johnson turned and yelled at the front of the chamber, "Vara! Vara, answer me, damn it!"

"Johnson!" Makepeace grabbed the lieutenant's arm, forced Johnson to face him.

"Colonel, they're babies. They're our babies."

"Daryl," Makepeace said softly. He shook his head, allowing Johnson to see his own regret, and his resolve.

An expression of utter grief crossed Johnson's face.

Makepeace said, "We have to go now."

Johnson nodded, wordless.

Guided by the servitors, SG-3 departed the audience chamber.

* * * * * * *

They had to run to keep up with the servitors. Johnson slowed down a little as they passed by the gestation lab, and Makepeace touched his arm. Johnson looked sad and nodded, but sped up again.

Makepeace wondered if Johnson would ever forgive him.

They raced through a seemingly endless maze of corridors and elevators. No one wasted any breath on conversation. Makepeace pondered just how deeply Varayimshaeta had sequestered them inside its complex. From the distance they were traveling, they'd been pretty far in. He hoped they'd make it to the train platform before Sitala's deadline. Based on the way the servitors were rushing them, he figured they didn't have much time left.

That thought had barely crossed his mind when a boom shook the passageways. Glittering powder cascaded down from new cracks in the ceiling. Makepeace staggered, caught his balance, and took stock of his men. All okay, if looking a bit rattled. The globes hovered, bobbing up and down, as though they were impatient, or nervous. Did the servitors even have that much awareness?

"Keep moving," he said, and the group took off again.

More blasts rocked the city. It felt like the very foundations lurched and shimmied, while overhead the ceiling split open. "Take cover!" Makepeace shouted to his team as he dropped to the floor and curled up, protecting the back of his head and neck with his hands. Chunks of masonry rained down around them. The explosions, the devastation, the chaos--it was all just like the last time. When everyone had died, and Sitala's Jaffa had marched across the World, destroying buildings out of sheer spite. He gasped as the memories hit him, forcing him to witness the chaos of the subsequent attacks, to feel Varayimshaeta's shock and horror and confusion. "Damn it, not now!" he yelled, ready to throw a fit at the bad timing.

Just like that, the flashback ended, leaving him in the real world, with a real building falling in on him, hearing the real shouts of his men as the hallway collapsed.

And then the building stopped shaking, the fall of debris ceased.

Cautiously, Makepeace rose onto his knees and looked up. The servitors hovered above him and his men, arranged in a perfect hexagon. A jumble of fractured masonry floated in midair between them.

All the men stared at it, speechless. Then Andrews got to his feet and gave Makepeace a hand up. The gunnery sergeant said, "Guess Vara's still looking out for us, sir."

"Guess so," Makepeace said. The servitors moved about sixty feet back and dropped their burden. The wreckage hit the ground with a deafening crash. A dust cloud rose into the air.

Andrews watched the proceedings with a jaundiced eye. "Damn shame Vara doesn't seem to have any industrial strength versions of those force fields to protect itself."

Makepeace couldn't help but agree, but the plain and brutal fact was that Varayimshaeta didn't possess anything so useful for this situation. "The people who created it didn't feel the need."

"Morons." Disgust and bitterness dripped from Johnson's voice.

The bombardment resumed, although Sitala's forces were now shelling areas farther away. Makepeace heard thunder, but it was quieter than before and the corridor barely trembled. The servitors zipped up to SG-3 and orbited around them like overexcited puppies, silently urging them to move on.

Wreckage dominated the once pristine hallways. Jade and emerald rubble littered the cracked floor, glassy cables dangled from gaping holes in the ceiling. Spider webs of fine lines marred windows that Varayimshaeta still managed to keep opaque. SG-3 had to slow down to navigate through the ruins.

"This is a regular obstacle course," Andrews griped as he carefully ducked around a collapsed wall.

The structure rumbled as faint booms reminded everyone that the attack continued. At least Sitala didn't know where they were; from the distant sounds, Makepeace thought she was concentrating her fire on the opposite side of the city.

At last, they approached the great, arching entrance to the train platform. Makepeace looked through the doorway. "Oh, fuck," he groaned.

Inside, the debarkation platform had been completely destroyed. The cylindrical train had split into two pieces that lay cross-ways across both yellow roads. Makepeace cautiously picked his way farther into the chamber and peered down the tunnel. He could see daylight.

A fiery bolt of energy shot through the room and exploded against a wall. Makepeace dived behind a large, upended chunk of the ruined platform. "Take cover!" he yelled, even as his men all scrambled for protection.

Two Jaffa emerged from behind the train, blasting away with their staff weapons. Makepeace popped up over the edge of his shelter, aimed his carbine at the nearest Jaffa and squeezed off a few bursts. He ducked back down as another energy bolt answered his fire.

More Jaffa appeared, advancing up through the tunnel, using the abundant wreckage to cover their forward progress. For a few crazy moments, SG-3 exchanged fire with Sitala's troops. Then the servitors moved right into the center of the action. They spread out in a line that spanned the room. Makepeace felt a terrible thump and a wave of dizziness pass through him. Reeling, he clenched his eyes shut and hunkered down, leaning hard against the cool jade as he fought nausea.

Then the feeling passed, and silence filled the room. Makepeace cautiously peeked over the edge of his protective barrier. The Jaffa had all collapsed, unconscious.

Johnson low-crawled to Makepeace's position. Looking a little green, the lieutenant said, "Nice to know they can direct those sound weapons of theirs."

"I wish they'd been more focused. We caught some of the backlash," Makepeace said, watching for more enemies as Andrews and Henderson swiftly joined them.

"At least we're still conscious, sir," said Johnson.

"Point taken." Makepeace nodded at the tunnel. "If Sitala didn't know where we were before, she does now. We need to find a different way out."

"Where will we go? The whole area's got to be crawling with Jaffa."

"We'll just have to fight."

Johnson gave him an incredulous look. "Colonel, you don't honestly think we can take on a Goa'uld pyramid ship and an army of Jaffa with a few rifles and grenades, do you?"

"No." Wearily, Makepeace shook his head. "But I don't want to die in here when this fancy birdcage finally falls apart, and I don't want to become a Goa'uld prisoner, either."

"Fuckin' A," Andrews agreed grimly. "Maybe we can send a few of those bastards to Hell before we check ourselves out."

Henderson's eyes widened at Andrews's suggestion, then his expression firmed and he nodded slowly. "It's better than being snaked, or whatever else Sitala's got planned for us."

Makepeace exchanged a resolute look with Johnson, and heaved out a harsh breath. They had all always known this possibility existed, given the way the Goa'uld operated. SG-3 was on its own, cut off from any means of escape. The Stargate was at least a hundred miles away. There was zero possibility for reinforcements from the SGC, or for rescue from the Goa'uld.

There weren't any options left, but that didn't make an ugly, worst case plan any more palatable.

A staff blast erupted from the tunnel, then another, and another. One of the golden spheres exploded in a blinding flash of light. The others returned to SG-3. Makepeace looked at them. "We need another way out of here," he said, hoping they understood.

The servitors took off through the doorway. Makepeace said to his men, "Follow them," and ran after the spheres.

They made it into the corridor and started down another branch. Ear-splitting thunder rent the air, making the building sway and creak as metal and masonry twisted out of shape. Another explosion, and chunks of the ceiling and walls bounced on the floor.

"Colonel!" Johnson yelled.

Makepeace turned, just as an entire section of the hall came down in a terrifying avalanche of jade and emerald. He saw Henderson push Johnson to one side. Dust clogged the air, and Makepeace had to dodge the falling debris. When the walls stopped falling and the dust settled, he slowly straightened from his protective crouch.

Henderson and Johnson were gone.

"No," Makepeace whispered.

Andrews gaped beside him. "Were they buried?" he asked softly.

"Maybe they're just cut off."

"Should we try to get to them?"

Another staff blast ripped through the hallway, answering that question. Makepeace howled, "God damn it!" and fired back at the Jaffa. The five servitors lined up, putting themselves between the Jaffa and the two Marines. "Holy--" Makepeace said. "Andrews, down!"

Again Makepeace felt the stomach-wrenching thump and dizziness, harder than before.

"We were closer this time," Andrews gasped, then he leaned away and vomited.

Makepeace managed to keep himself from throwing up, but only just barely. "At least the Jaffa are down." The servitors returned, and he said to them, "We have to get my other two men. Can you dig through that?"

The servitors bobbed and circled. Makepeace wondered if they really understood, or were just acting on preprogrammed orders from Varayimshaeta. Without much hope, he pointed at the fallen wall blocking the passage and asked, "Is there a way around that mess?"

The servitors flitted through another side hall. Makepeace and Andrews chased after them. It was a circuitous route that followed a ramp slanting upwards. Then down another corridor, and another. Both men were coughing from all the dust in the air. Makepeace's eyes streamed tears, yet paradoxically felt dry and gritty. He had to keep blinking to clear the gunk from his vision.

They came to another open doorway. Makepeace stared at it, then rage took him and he hurled the vilest curses he knew at Varayimshaeta's servitors, in English, Spanish, and Farsi.

Instead of to Johnson and Henderson, the servitors had led Makepeace and Andrews out of the city.

Continue to Part 11

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