The Mountain King Part 7

Andrews summoned Godfrey to set the lighting back to normal. Makepeace put his boots back on and fixed his clothes, then got up and wandered over to the windows. The sky was still overcast; the rain falling by the bucketsful. The blue of the mountains had been turned to slate by the soggy afternoon light.

Had they really only been on this planet for three days? It felt like at least a month.

He saw a brassy glint off to one side, in the direction of the flatlands. A large number of gold spheres were gliding back and forth in a coordinated fashion. Varayimshaeta's servitors.

"I wonder what they're doing?" Johnson murmured.

Makepeace turned his head, saw that the lieutenant was standing beside him. He shrugged. "Who knows?"

"You might."

Makepeace gave him a sharp look. "Not this." He returned to watching the spheres. They moved in complex, elaborate patterns, almost like they were dancing. "I got a history lesson, and a few odd feelings and facts, but I don't know anything about this."

"Yes, sir."

Clanking and banging noises came from the kitchen. By mutual, unspoken consent, the two men dropped their conversation and went to find out what was going on. Sergeant Andrews popped up from behind a kitchen counter, brandishing a large pan. "You guys think this is cast iron?" he asked.

"What are you doing?" asked Henderson.

"Gonna try out the stove. So, what about the pan?"

Godfrey was consulted. The hologram confirmed that the pan was indeed cast iron, and perfectly safe for humans to use to cook food.

For some reason, that irritated Makepeace. In a fit of rebellion, he growled, "I'd rather you used our own gear."

"Love to, but it ain't here, sir," Andrews said.

"Well, why don't we ask for it? It's not dangerous. We might even get it."

"It's worth a shot. Oh, Godfrey!" Andrews sang out. "Yoooo, hoooo."

Shaking his head, Makepeace left him to cajole the butler. The door beckoned, so he walked over to it. He hated this trapped feeling, and even though he knew it an empty gesture, he wanted to leave the suite. The door slid open with the barest whisper of sound, revealing an empty, unguarded corridor. Its length was lined with four more doors, two on each side, and it terminated at a fifth door. He stepped into the hall, into the illusion of at least partial freedom.

He really, really wanted off this planet.

"Want some company, sir?" Henderson had joined him.

Makepeace shrugged.

"It's best not to wander around alone, sir."

Did they really think he'd run off by himself? Sure, he'd taken a beating over the last two days, but he hadn't lost all his common sense. He said as much, in a rather irate tone, adding somewhat defensively, "I was just curious about what's out here, is all."

Unfazed, Henderson grinned cockily. "Yes, sir. Don't worry, sir, we all understand cabin fever. If you like, I can give you the grand tour."

In spite of his annoyance at the blatant baby-sitting, Makepeace had to admit he was curious about the remodeling project Henderson and Andrews had talked about after their excursion. He smiled crookedly and said, "Lead on, MacDuff."

Henderson headed down the hall. The corridor had a basic rectangular shape, with smooth walls tinted a muted green, the color much easier on human eyes than the gem-bright hues Makepeace had previously seen. Whenever they poked their heads into a room, they saw a variety of human-style furnishings. The first two looked like less grand versions of their own apartments. The third, Makepeace was startled to see, held a swimming pool, a Jacuzzi, and what looked like a sauna. The overhead lights reflected off the aquamarine water and the tiled walls.

Henderson grinned at his reaction. "Nobody's tried it out, yet."

"I'm surprised." He knew his guys were water rats. Makepeace breathed in the warm, humid air, wondering how long it would be before someone broke the pool in. If they didn't get off this planet soon, he might give it a go himself.

"We've had other concerns, sir."

Makepeace winced.

Leaving the pool room with regret, they moved on to the last doorway on the right. "Well, that's new," said Henderson, leaning into the chamber. He sounded surprised.

"New?" asked Makepeace.

"This stuff wasn't here this morning. Check it out, sir."

Makepeace stepped into the room and stopped. "Is that a big screen TV?"

The blank screen took up an entire wall. It had to be at least fifteen feet high. Placed near the back of the cavernous room were a sofa and several reclining chairs with footrests. A coffee table and some end tables accompanied them. Scattered in strategic locations were a number of dark boxes of varying sizes that looked remarkably like speakers. There were no windows, the lighting relying solely on thin, glowing panels set near the ceiling.

"I think it's a home theater," said Henderson. He remarked with admiration, "You've got one hell of an imagination, Colonel."

Makepeace grunted and walked over to the coffee table. He picked up the remote control sitting there. "I wonder if it gets ESPN?" He refrained from pushing the power button. God help him if Varayimshaeta had reproduced the last porno flick he'd seen.

"Turn it on, sir. Let's see what it's got."

Let's not, thought Makepeace. He didn't really care if his team knew he'd seen "Pulp Friction"--hell, knowing them, they probably all had bootleg copies of the thing--but there was no telling what Varayimshaeta might have dredged out of his subconscious. Enough of his psyche had been on display already. He set the remote down.

"Later," he said. "Why don't we see what else has changed in the neighborhood since you scouted it out this morning?"

"Yes, sir." Henderson looked disappointed.

Tough, Makepeace thought.

The two men left the theater and continued their perambulations toward the tall door set at the very end of the hall. "That's the elevator," Henderson informed him.

"You said it was unguarded?"

"It was this morning."

As the men approached, the elevator opened and disgorged a triad of the gold spheres. Within their midst they carried another of SG-3's rucksacks, just as they had carried the food and canteens. Makepeace and Henderson moved aside to let them pass. The entourage floated serenely down the hall and entered the Marines' suite.

"Looks like Andrews got his cooking gear," Henderson remarked.

Makepeace was thoughtful. "I wonder what else we could get, if we made the right arguments?"

"If you're thinking of weapons, sir, we've already tried that this morning, while you were still asleep. Godfrey wouldn't go for it."

"Figures."

The spheres exited the suite and floated back toward the elevator.

"That was fast," Makepeace said. He watched as the orbs glided in his direction. "You know, I'd really like to find out where they're going."

"You think they'll let us follow them, sir?"

"Probably not, but what the hell. It's not like we've got anything better to do."

The spheres passed by, and the two Marines fell into step with them. Surprisingly, Makepeace and Henderson were allowed to follow the orbs into the elevator. The men exchanged a glance, but stayed silent for the whole ride down. The door opened, revealing a large, circular chamber lined with five additional doorways. This room hadn't been redesigned to accommodate humans. The colors were hard and vivid, the architecture full of curves and odd angles. The spheres moved to a tripartite door directly across from the elevator. The men followed them.

"Didn't get down here this morning," commented Henderson.

Makepeace said, "Maybe it's a way out."

"Or the way to the servants' quarters. So to speak."

"I'll take whatever I can get."

The door's three sections slid apart, and the spheres floated into what looked like another elevator. When the Marines tried to follow, the spheres blocked the entrance. The door closed in their faces.

"That was rude," Makepeace said.

"We got farther than I expected, though," Henderson pointed out. He wandered over to an adjacent door. "Upstairs, the doors are all on some kind of sensor. They open on approach." This door, however, stayed shut.

"I'd say they don't work that way down here."

"Maybe it takes more?" Henderson knocked on the door and said, "Open, says me." It didn't budge. "Guess nobody's home."

"Or nobody's answering."

"Yeah. We're probably not supposed to go in there."

The two men tried the rest of the doors. The only one that opened was the elevator they had arrived in. "Looks like that's our limit," said Makepeace as he stepped inside.

"Better than nothing, sir," said Henderson. "Like I said, it's farther than we got this morning. Maybe Vara was satisfying our curiosity."

"I'm getting really tired of Vara."

"Yes, sir. Shall we head back, or do you want to explore some more?"

"You said there was no way out on any of the floors you reconned?"

Henderson shook his head. "Not that we could find. We checked everything pretty thoroughly."

"Think we can coax this thing to go further down?" Makepeace waved a hand at the control panel, which showed a glowing symbol on its hexagonal display, below which was a pad of small symbols, neatly arranged in thirty-six rows of twelve. The symbol in the first column of the seventh row matched the one on the display. "There are a helluva lot of floors below this one to choose from."

"Worth a shot." Henderson touched the next symbol in the pad. The elevator didn't budge. He tried all of the lower symbols on the panel, with the same lack of results.

"Or not." Makepeace folded his arms and leaned against the wall.

"There's always the upper levels. At least, the ones Vara will give us access to. You want to have a look, sir?"

"Nah, not right now." There wasn't much point, beyond satisfying idle curiosity. Henderson and Andrews were pros, and Makepeace trusted them implicitly. If they hadn't found anything, there was nothing to find. Any new floors added since the morning recon could wait for a while. Varayimshaeta certainly wouldn't add in any escape routes while redecorating. Makepeace said, "Why don't we see what Andrews has concocted for lunch?"

"The penthouse it is."

"The penthouse?"

"Didn't you know, sir? We're on the top floor. Best rooms in the whole damn place, too." Henderson touched the first symbol on the keypad, and the door obligingly closed. The elevator started upwards.

* * * * * * *

It wasn't a true penthouse, Makepeace thought as he and Henderson walked down the short hallway to SG-3's suite. The layout wasn't quite right, what with the short corridor and the other rooms. However, it was obvious that their suite took up the lion's share of the top floor, and the other four apartments were clearly subordinate to it. The next largest chambers had held the theater and the pool. The others had been more in the nature of private retreats or guest accommodations.

The door to the suite opened, and enticing smells wafted out into the hall. Once again, Makepeace was amazed at the way Mike Andrews could turn even the most unappetizing of supplies into something edible. His stomach growled. It seemed like half a lifetime since he'd eaten those two energy bars.

"Hey," Andrews called cheerfully, as he appeared out of the kitchen. "You two are just in time for lunch. Hungry?"

"Starving," Makepeace confirmed.

"Good. Then you won't notice that it's all reconstituted drek."

"I'm sure it's fine," Makepeace said honestly.

With a slight smile, Johnson asked, "How was the tour?"

"Unusual."

"You could say that about this whole place, sir."

Henderson said, "We followed the spheres that brought Andrews his pots and pans. Got down to a level that hasn't been refitted."

"A way out?"

"Maybe," Makepeace said. "But we couldn't get past any of the doors."

"Same old, same old," commented Andrews as he carried two platters heaped with steaming food to the table. Ceramic platters, Makepeace noticed, plus china plates and nice silver on the table, rather than their own mess kits. Varayimshaeta's handiwork again. He was getting really tired of that AI.

Eyeing the generous portions, he dryly commented, "Rationing already, I see."

Andrews cocked a brow. "Check out the pantry, sir."

Makepeace gave him a funny look, but went to the kitchen and opened the pantry door. Inside, the overlarge space was crammed full of MREs, dehydrated camp food, juice packages, and canteens that probably held water. There were at least three times the supplies that SG-3 had carried with them--enough to last them a month or more. "Jesus."

"There's no way to tell which is the stuff we brought with us, and what Vara duplicated for us," Andrews said. He added plaintively, "Sir, couldn't you have imagined some fresh food, so we wouldn't be stuck with all that milspec crap?"

Makepeace threw him a nasty glare. "I'll keep that in mind the next time I get my brain scanned." He sat down at the table.

Over a lunch of prepackaged chicken, rehydrated carrots, reconstituted mashed potatoes, and plastic bags of juice, Makepeace and Henderson related the details of their excursion. Other than the lower level, there wasn't much very interesting. Johnson and Andrews did find the super-sized home theater a source of amusement and, as Henderson had earlier, complimented their leader on his imagination and probable fantasy life.

Makepeace promptly forbade use of the theater. "I'd like to keep my fantasy life private, if you people don't mind," he said, a touch of bitterness creeping into his voice.

They looked uncomfortable at that comment. Perhaps they simply hadn't realized how intrusive this situation was for him, Makepeace thought. At any rate, the conversation shifted away from the home theater and its likely source of media entertainment, and back onto Varayimshaeta and the aliens who had created the AI. Unfortunately, this led right back to Makepeace's dreams, but at least their subject matter wasn't anything too personal to him.

Johnson toyed nervously with his potatoes, then asked, "Sir, I'm curious. Do you know what they looked like?"

"They who?"

"The inhabitants of this world. From the weird furniture and the crapper we had yesterday, I figured they couldn't have been even remotely human."

"Amen," Makepeace said with a grin. "Never actually got a look at any of them. That's pretty strange, now that I think about it. I guess Vara's still a bit protective of them." He added, "I do know that Vara thought Sitala was ugly to the point of being deformed. By this world's standards, she was repulsive."

"Guess that lets us know where we stand, looks wise."

"It seems to have readjusted its standards," said Henderson, "or maybe it just doesn't look too close at us."

Andrews snorted. "Some people like ugly pets. Think of those hairless cats, or those butt-ugly dogs with all the revolting wrinkles and folds of skin."

"Sharpei."

"Gesundheit."

"No, Sharpei," Henderson said with a straight face. "That's the breed of dog you were talking about."

"It's still ugly."

"Are you two comparing us to a Sharpei?" demanded Johnson.

"No, sir. We're much prettier," said Andrews. "And our skin actually fits."

Makepeace chuckled. "It's no worse than being compared to hamsters." When Johnson raised his brows in confusion, he added, "Habitrails, remember?"

The lieutenant looked abashed. "I wasn't specifically calling us hamsters, sir."

"Of course not."

The rest of the meal passed in a similarly lighthearted vein, and Makepeace was careful not to dampen the mood. Their nerves had been stretched taut for too long, and it was pleasant to just relax, if only for a little while. It was also nice, he admitted to himself, to not be the center of all that stress. Maybe things could get back to normal--at least, as normal as things could be while they were the unwilling house guests of an unbalanced alien computer.

They had just finished eating when Godfrey appeared and announced that Varayimshaeta was ready to talk to them. About time, Makepeace thought irritably. In spite of the relatively uneventful afternoon, his half-demented demand--and the knowledge that had driven it--had lurked in the back of his thoughts all day. To tell the truth, he was surprised. He hadn't really believed the AI would bother responding at all.

The door opened, and three of the golden spheres floated into their suite. Godfrey said, "Please go with the servitors."

Johnson rapped out, "Why the hell can't we talk to Vara here? Isn't that damn computer everywhere?"

Godfrey didn't deign to reply; it only winked out of existence. The three spheres floated patiently.

"Fucking alien machines," Johnson grumbled.

Andrews eyed the spheres. "That was a good question. Why can't Vara talk to us here? Anyone got any ideas?" He looked to Makepeace. "Sir?"

"How the hell should I know?" Makepeace snapped defensively. "That damn dream didn't go into detailed theories about computer psychology. I bet Johnson's got it right. This is probably just how it likes to do things."

Amid some grousing at Varayimshaeta's seemingly arbitrary behavior, SG-3 left the false security of their suite and allowed the spheres to shepherd them through the hall and into the elevator.

When the elevator's doors opened, Makepeace saw that they had been taken down to the same circular chamber that he and Henderson had found earlier.

"Deja vu," Henderson said.

"Huh?" said Andrews, gawking at the weird architecture.

Makepeace only had time to explain in a few terse words before the spheres were on the move again. The second door to the left slid open, then the Marines were led through it and down a long hallway. The passage was stark, bereft of windows or any ornamentation, and colored a brilliant emerald hue. The vaulted ceiling arched high overhead. The hall had only two exits: the door they had entered from, and another closed door at its far end.

As they approached, the tripartite door opened silently. Beyond it was a dome-shaped room identical to the audience chamber they had been in the day before. Here also a terrible pillar of light stretched from apertures in the floor and ceiling, its pulses accompanied by a deep throbbing like a heartbeat. The floors were onyx, the walls milky and translucent with multicolored glows lighting them from within. Light spheres circled high overhead. The great, faceted crystals set in the ceiling made Makepeace's stomach turn over.

He forced himself to walk into the room. He wanted some answers. In fact, he was desperate for them.

"Greetings, Colonel Makepeace," said Varayimshaeta's synthesized voice. The not-quite-synchronized chorus of male and female pitches, blended with overlapping harmonics, came as a shock, and Makepeace stopped dead. Godfrey had spoken in an ordinary human voice, but apparently Varayimshaeta chose not to. Makepeace heard his men stop behind him and murmur among themselves as the alien AI greeted each of them by name. It sounded quite familiar. Even, strangely enough, friendly.

"I trust you are fully recovered, Colonel," it went on. "My sincerest apologies for the discomfort you endured."

Makepeace was taken aback by the solicitous words. For an insane computer, Varayimshaeta sounded remarkably polite. "Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that--"

"I hope your quarters have been made more comfortable. I have gone to great pains to create and maintain accommodations suitable for your species."

The Marines exchanged a disbelieving look among themselves. This was such a far cry from yesterday's interview that it was beyond bizarre. Varayimshaeta was being downright chatty.

Makepeace tried again, "Vara, look, about what you did to me yesterday--"

"There is a problem?"

"Damn straight there is! I have memories that belong to you. Was that some kind of bleed-over?"

"I extracted information about your language, history, and biology from you. To facilitate understanding, I gave you a brief history of my world, as well as an explanation for yesterday's misunderstanding. I apologize for my hostility, but your physical appearance is very much like that of the Goa'uld, as you named the invaders."

"You screwed with my head deliberately?" Makepeace goggled at the column of light, unable to appreciate what he had been told and somewhat startled by Varayimshaeta's command of American English. It was as good as his own, although its phrases were formal and stilted. He supposed it made sense, since Varayimshaeta's understanding had been taken from him. He also noticed it was more at ease with the word "I" than it had been before. From his dream memory he knew that Varayimshaeta didn't have as strong a sense of personal identity as humans did, but apparently it was learning. He wondered if that was good or bad.

Henderson stepped forward. "Why couldn't you have just told us that information? Why place it directly in Colonel Makepeace's head?"

"The medium of exchange was direct access to knowledge and memory," Varayimshaeta replied.

"That's nuts," Johnson muttered.

"Not really, sir," Henderson said. "Just...different. Alien. I don't believe we can really understand how Vara thinks." To Varayimshaeta he said, "You, um, you purchased the colonel's knowledge and memories with some of your own? Is that what you mean?"

"The analogy is partially correct. In addition, direct memory exchange and implantation facilitates understanding better than spoken language. Such exchanges were once commonplace."

"Your memories damn near killed me!" Makepeace snarled. "And they weren't particularly accessible, either."

"Your brain's configuration was not compatible with the implantation technology. The adjustments made before the final genetic, biochemical, and physiological scans and analyses were completed did not result in satisfactory conformity."

Lovely, Makepeace thought. The fucking thing had been experimenting on him. His anger swelled. "What the hell else did you do to me?"

"I repaired the physical damage done by the initial probe," Varayimshaeta replied serenely. "Other than the knowledge given you, you are as you were before."

At least his concerns about implanted programming had been relieved--well, mostly. Assuming Varayimshaeta wasn't lying, of course. There was no reason he could see for the AI to lie, since he and his men were utterly within its power. And there was another problem.

"Vara," Makepeace said, very quietly, "We know you destroyed your own world. That was part of the package of 'knowledge and memory' you gave me." Henderson stirred next to him.

"My primary directive is to maintain the World and keep it free of undesired impurities. Sterilization was the only way to remove the alien virus from the planetary environment."

"Colonel," Henderson murmured into Makepeace's ear, "this isn't a safe line of questioning. Vara's probably got its actions thoroughly rationalized, and if it doesn't, well..."

"It might go nuts again, and decide we're an undesired impurity?" he whispered back.

"Better not risk it, sir."

The warning was apt. Makepeace nodded and backed off, swallowing his anger and bitterness at having been used as an unwitting guinea pig, and his knee-jerk desire to strike back at the computer in revenge.

Johnson stepped forward. "You said you know we aren't Goa'ulds. So why are you still holding us here against our will?" When there was no reply, he cocked a brow and added, "The colonel here thinks you're lonesome. Is that it? You just want some company?"

The AI spoke slowly and bluntly. "That is correct."

Makepeace had almost cringed at the way Johnson had phrased his question, but Varayimshaeta's statement drove his desire to murder his second from his head. The flat, emotionless acknowledgment was so at odds with his memory of the AI's intense loneliness that he was rendered speechless.

Andrews had no such difficulties with articulation. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You haven't even been talking to us until now, so why bother?"

"Companionship does not always require conversation, only presence. I understand this is also true for humans."

"Sometimes," Makepeace said cautiously.

"Then we understand one another."

"Not really," Johnson muttered under his breath.

"It just likes having us around?" Andrews asked. He looked incredulous.

"Apparently," said Henderson.

Johnson growled, "Fuck that."

Makepeace sympathized with their frustration. He wanted to shout, to rant at the computer, but Henderson had been right about the dangers involved. Varayimshaeta's own memories told him that much. He put up his hand to keep his men still.

"Look, Vara, I'm sorry you're all alone here, but we can't stay forever," he said in his most reasonable tone of voice.

"Of course you can," Varayimshaeta replied, sounding strangely airy.

Once more, Makepeace could think of nothing to say. This was worse than he'd imagined. He exchanged a near frantic look with his teammates, and was perversely relieved to see that they appeared just as unnerved as he felt. "No, we can't," he insisted. "We need to go home."

"Why? My World will soon suit you."

Makepeace was so startled by that statement that his "What?" was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"I have completed my analysis of your genetics, biochemistry, and physiology, as well as the various parasitic and symbiotic organisms your bodies carry. I have gene bank stores of all the World's indigenous lifeforms at the time of the Purification, save one. Many are compatible with your species and are being re-seeded by my servitors. Those that are dangerous to you will not be reestablished. The World will live again. I believe you will find it a most pleasant place."

"So that's what those globes were doing out in the rain," Johnson murmured under his breath. "They're working the fucking fields."

Makepeace gave him a sharp glance to shut him up, then turned his attention back to the light column. "You're tailoring your planet for us?"

"It is a simple matter. You shall want for nothing."

"It sounds like it's going to build the frigging Garden of Eden for us," Andrews muttered.

Makepeace shook his head in horrified wonder. That was exactly what it sounded like.

Henderson had been looking thoughtful during the last exchange. Now he asked, "If you can do all that, Vara, why are you all alone here? Why not bring back your own people?"

There was a pause, as though the computer hesitated revealing some dark truth. Then it said, "The People did not permit their own genetic patterns to be stored or tampered with. Those patterns were forbidden by law. They also feared the beings beyond the darkness might somehow gain access to them."

"They were that paranoid?" Makepeace asked. The foreign memories within him crowded to the surface, confirming that very fact. He rubbed one temple, attempting to banish them, and the alien thoughts obligingly receded. "Paranoid as well as xenophobic. Whoever dropped the Stargate off on this planet really screwed things up here."

There was a short silence. Makepeace didn't feel inclined to continue the chat, and Henderson stepped into the conversational void. "Vara," he said, "there's really no point. Our lives aren't as long as yours. We'll die eventually, and you'll be alone again."

"It is true your species is short-lived. However, lifespan will not be an issue."

"How so?"

Henderson sounded genuinely curious, Makepeace reflected sourly. It was necessary to gather as much information as possible--who knew what tidbit might be useful and provide the seed for an escape plan--but damn it to hell, did he have to be so enthusiastic?

The AI answered, "Because we will establish a human colony on this planet. My World will again have an intelligent species to continue the legacy of my People."

Henderson shot an unreadable glance at his teammates. "Uh, Vara, you may not be aware of this, but our species has two genders. The four of us, uh, we're all the same gender. We can't reproduce."

"Gender is irrelevant. The People did extensive research into genetics and molecular biology."

Henderson blinked. "You mean you're going to clone us? Just the four of us? Won't that get boring?"

Boring? Was that Henderson's only argument against Varayimshaeta's plan? Makepeace wondered. Jesus, he could come up with a zillion reasons why it was a bad idea. They were emotionally based, of course, but Varayimshaeta wasn't acting like the stereotypically logical computer of sci-fi. Rather, it was sounding more and more like the mad scientists found in B-grade horror flicks.

"Straightforward cloning is of limited value and would compound the problem," Varayimshaeta said. "Because it would generate only genetic duplicates and inhibit diversity, its use is contraindicated."

"Then how are you going to create a human colony with only males available?" Henderson asked, again sounding far too curious for Makepeace's taste.

"Within your cells, each of you carries a full complement of human chromosomes, including the X and Y chromosomes that determine gender. It is a simple matter to create females of your species using your X chromosomes and other cellular components."

"Great," Johnson griped nastily. "So we'll get female versions of ourselves. I can't wait."

"No such crude methods will be employed." Varayimshaeta seemed almost eager to answer, like a child showing off its cleverness. "Instead, I will recombine your chromosomes to generate completely new offspring. A large number of permutations will be possible using the chromosomes you four possess."

"So you're going to create children using our genes?" Henderson asked. "They'll be our children?"

"That is correct."

"Let me get this straight. You can take an unpaired set of Colonel Makepeace's chromosomes and an unpaired set of Lieutenant Johnson's, match them up, and come up with a baby of theirs?"

"Correct. In that manner, a potentially large number of unique offspring are available."

The four men exchanged appalled glances as the ramifications of that sank in. Johnson looked positively green, Makepeace noticed. He was sure he wasn't looking much better. Henderson really could have chosen a less aggravating example.

"And you can do that with all of us?" Henderson went on.

"Correct. Additionally, I shall break down your chromosomes into constituent parts, and recombine the individual, overlapping, and linked genes, as well as structural and regulatory components, to construct completely new chromosomes."

"How do you do that?"

Instead of English, the room filled with strange, semi-discordant music. It ebbed and flowed for a few minutes, then fell silent.

"What the hell?" Andrews said.

Henderson said thoughtfully, "I think it just explained the process in its own language. It doesn't have the vocabulary in English to express the technical concepts, because Colonel Makepeace doesn't know much about molecular genetics."

Makepeace said, "Make that 'doesn't know shit about molecular genetics'."

Nodding patiently, Henderson returned his attention to Varayimshaeta and tried to poke holes in its plan. "Humans require more than just their genetic structures," he stated. "For example, we get mitochondria from the mother--uh, the female. They come along with the ovum cell, and they have their own chromosomes. The genes from the male play no part in that."

"I have run all necessary biochemical, cellular, and physiological simulations, and have complete understanding of your biological processes. It will be possible to harvest the required structures from your existing cells."

Henderson swallowed. "You can simulate every chemical reaction in our cells? That's hundreds of thousands of reactions per cell every second. How far can you take that?"

"I can simulate the entire life cycle of one of your species, as well as that of entire populations, at a molecular level, with variations in phenotype as determined by environmental conditions."

Shock showed on Henderson's face. Makepeace licked his lips and said cautiously, "That's an impressive amount of computing power." He didn't want to even attempt to calculate what was required--it was ungodly, terrifying. Earth computers couldn't even begin to duplicate such a feat.

"Such large-scale simulations require a significant fraction of my attention. However, I assure you that I am more than able to perform my regular functions at all times."

"Uh, huh. Okay. That's good." It occurred to Makepeace that this AI would have to have awesome computing capabilities, just to perform its ordinary, day to day activities.

Henderson took a deep breath. "Vara, I believe you're capable of generating, um, our children. But you can't just create them by the dozen, or make them full grown. Humans are social creatures," he argued. "If they're not raised by older humans, taught how to behave, they end up dysfunctional."

"Yes, I understand this," Varayimshaeta's eerie chorus of voices replied. "The seeds of that knowledge were in Colonel Makepeace's mind. Do not be concerned. I shall make certain you are not overwhelmed by the offspring."

"It wants us to raise its kids?" Andrews asked. He turned to Makepeace. "Jesus, it got the idea for all this B.S. from you, Colonel? Just how much do you know about biology, sir?"

Makepeace made a face. "Not much. I took some biology back in college, but that was over twenty years ago and I thought I'd forgotten it all. Evidently, I've still got enough of the basics up here"--he tapped the side of his head--"to give Vara a starting point."

"With all due respect, Colonel, this is way, way more sophisticated than some outdated introductory biology classes," Henderson said. "It scanned your body when it was 'repairing' you. It must've gotten everything it needed then."

Varayimshaeta stated, "I anticipate the arrival of more of your people soon. Their genetic material will add to the diversity and strengthen the colony."

"More of us?" Andrews asked. "Soon?"

Makepeace replied impatiently, "General Hammond's going to start worrying in a week or so." His men looked grim at that statement. The SGC's usual procedure was to send out a search and rescue party to check on an overdue team. Makepeace looked up at one particular crystal in the ceiling. "Vara knows everything I know," he said tonelessly. "It's going to draft the rescue party into its little repopulation scheme. Isn't that right, Vara?"

"That is correct."

Johnson shook his head in denial. "I do not believe this. This is not happening."

Varayimshaeta said, "When the population has grown to sufficient size, envoys can be sent out through the Chenvwathd Gateway to invite others of your kind to live here. This will create enough genetic diversity for your species to stabilize and become fully established, so technological intervention will no longer be required for continued successful reproduction. I gained from Colonel Makepeace's mind the addresses for many easily accessible planets with human populations. In time, your species will rule this planet, as my People did before the Great Death and the Purification. The World will return to its former glory."

There was a pause, then Varayimshaeta said, "You will spawn a new civilization. You should be pleased."

Continue to Part 8

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