Troublesome Things
by
Tiffany Park
According to all the remote MALP readings, P3X-8522 was a foggy rock. And when SG-3 arrived, it still looked like a foggy rock. No apparent life, stagnant air with faint undertones of sulfur, hard-packed earth and gravel underfoot. Nothing but gray fog, gray rocks, and eerie silence.
No one at the SGC expected to find any natives here, but there was always hope that valuable minerals might be discovered. Any planet with a Stargate had to have something of interest. Why else would a Stargate be there?
Maybe the Ancients just had a warped sense of humor.
Makepeace's plan was just to get in, take some dirt samples, do a quick survey, and make an equally quick exit. His plans didn't include having to make nice with any natives.
So the human form materializing out of the murky distance was an unwelcome surprise.
The man came closer, his features no longer obscured by the gray, filmy mist. On closer inspection, Makepeace considered amending his original assessment of "human." While the man looked human--mostly--there was some indefinable aura about him that struck Makepeace as distinctly wrong. Possibly dangerous. Sinister. He gave Makepeace the creeps, and Makepeace had seen a lot of weird stuff since joining the SGC. In his experience, anything that made him so irrationally edgy was worth a little extra caution.
The man was tall, almost seven feet in height, and so thin he was almost skeletal. The black suit he wore emphasized his gaunt frame. His skin had a chalky, gray cast that couldn't be blamed on the poor, filtered light, and his eyes were fathomless dark pits. His thinning gray hair framed the high dome of his forehead.
This strange apparition stopped a few feet before SG-3 and rubbed his bony hands together in what appeared to be glee.
Makepeace felt inexplicably nervous. "Um, hello," he said, falling back on the SGC's standard procedure when meeting aliens, "we're peaceful travelers from Earth, and--"
"From Earth? Oh, how wonderful," said the tall man. His voice was a slow, strange monotone.
"You've heard of Earth?" Makepeace asked suspiciously.
"Oh, yes. In this part of the galaxy it's considered a mythical planet, although I've always known it was real. I'm so very pleased to meet you."
"Uh, huh."
"Welcome to R'lyeh," the tall man said with a creepy smile.
"Ril-yeh?" Makepeace couldn't manage to pronounce the guttural word.
"That's the name of this place. I'm surprised you came here without knowing."
"Um, yeah. Well, you see, we've kind of got an incomplete catalogue, so we're going through it to, um, get it up to speed. So to speak."
The tall man nodded knowingly. "I see. May I ask what you plan now?" He gave SG-3 another ghoulish smile and waited expectantly.
That was when Makepeace figured out why he felt so unnerved. This character looked like an Evil Undertaker who had walked straight out of a B horror movie.
"Yes, well, as I said, we're peaceful explorers."
"From Earth," the tall man said helpfully.
"Yes. From Earth." Unclenching his jaw, Makepeace introduced his team and restarted the SGC's standard spiel. The tall man listened politely to the pitch. When Makepeace got to the part about possible trade opportunities, the tall man interrupted again.
"You want to trade?" he asked. His deep eyes glowed briefly. "How delightful. You've definitely come to the right place. I have a little shop that I'm just dying to show you."
Actually, Makepeace wasn't interested in trading anything with this walking cadaver, or staying in his company a moment longer than absolutely necessary. If ever there was a time to pass the buck, it was now.
He said, "In all honesty, we're only an advance scouting team. No one back home realized this planet was inhabited, or they would have sent in contact specialists. If you don't mind, we'll go back and get the right people to talk to you--"
"Oh, no, no," said the tall man. "You just got here. You can't go so soon."
Makepeace tried again: "It really would be better if the experts took over. You'd have a better experience."
"Surely you must have some discretionary powers. You wouldn't have been sent to explore without supervision otherwise. Is this not so? And it's so terribly rude to just run off after introductions have barely been completed."
Makepeace hesitated. The mantra 'Don't offend the locals' had been pounded into all the SG offworld teams. SG-3 had gotten extra doses due to certain unfortunate incidents in the past. Makepeace didn't want to get his team--and himself!--subjected to another long, tiresome reprimand and lecture just because he thought that one of those locals he wasn't supposed to offend was creepy.
The tall man said, "And despite your claim that your intentions are peaceful, I see that all four of you are quite well armed." He smiled without humor as the Marines all shifted uncomfortably, then he added "As you can see, I am complete unarmed. I doubt you have anything to worry about, all things considered."
Okay, Makepeace thought, so the 'local' was already offended. How to repair this damage before it got even worse? Again, the SGC's standard lines were put to use: "The weapons are just for self defense. Not all people are as understanding as you."
The tall man smiled again. "Then we understand one another. Come visit the shop, see if your people would be interested in any of my wares, and all will be forgiven."
Was this guy really just trying to make a sale? Makepeace had met some pretty pushy salespeople in his time. The seriously hard-core ones used whatever tricks and tactics they thought would work, no matter how underhanded. Guilt and indebtedness were big favorites. This character sure did seem to be playing the guilt and indebtedness cards pretty heavily.
Maybe he worked on commission. Makepeace had seen stranger things since he'd joined the SGC. He assessed the tall man again. It was true he didn't look armed, but appearances were often deceiving. He could be hiding all kinds of interesting weaponry underneath that dark suit. And he was alien. Maybe he could shoot poisoned fingernails or had toxic bad breath or something.
Then again, it was four against one. Plus, the tall man could have attacked them at any time, and instead had only attempted a sales pitch. While it was possible he might lead them into a trap, it seemed less and less likely the more he talked. Besides, he might have some really useful stuff for sale.
Makepeace resigned himself to spending some more time on this dreary, eerie planet. "If it will help create cordial relations between our two worlds, of course we'll come see your shop."
"How wonderful." The tall man actually clapped his hands, although his voice remained a monotone despite the show of apparent joy. "My little shop is just a short walk from here. I'm certain people like you will find all kinds of interesting things there."
* * * * * * * *
The "short walk" was, in fact, a short walk and only took about ten minutes, during which time the tall man chatted in his colorless voice about how thrilled he was at their visit, and how pleased SG-3 would be with the fine merchandise he had for sale.
On the other hand, the "little shop" turned out to be a massive gray edifice constructed of enormous stone slabs and columns. It materialized out of the fog, looking imposing, gloomy, and strangely "off." Makepeace couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the architecture turned his stomach. The angles were somehow wrong, and he got the weirdest impression of spheres, even though none were in evidence.
Makepeace wasn't the only Marine whose "creepiness meter" was going off the scale. On the walk the rest of his team had hung back, letting their CO keep company with their unattractive host, and sticking tight in unacknowledged edginess. Now they were practically huddled together as they gawked at the structure. The looks on their faces would have been priceless, except that Makepeace suspected he was wearing the exact same look.
"Now how did we miss something like this on our sweep?" Johnson asked softly.
Good question. The building was too close to the Stargate and too massive to have been overlooked during SG-3's initial recon, no matter how thick the fog. And there was something else...
"Listen," said Makepeace. "Does that sound like the ocean?"
In the distance, the muted roar of breaking waves could be heard. Although the water could not be seen through the thick mist, the sound was unmistakable. His teammates confirmed that they heard it, too. How could he and his team have missed an entire freaking ocean? Yet another mystery. Makepeace really hated mysteries like this.
The tall man didn't give his guests time to dwell on the peculiarities of the local environment. "This way, gentlemen," he said as he lightly touched a giant stone door. The massive gray block obligingly swung open with a heavy grating noise. Bright light beamed out the new opening.
At least it wasn't dark inside. Makepeace had been getting ready to order his men to cut and run, just in case they'd been met with an ambush or maybe even a tomb full of monsters or something. Instead, he heard cheerful, canned-sounding music. Weird.
He cautiously stepped into the building and looked around. From what he could tell, it was empty of any other forms of life. The interior architecture was every bit as unsettling as the exterior, and was quite at odds with the bright light and soothing alien Muzak. In fact, if not for the weird angles and utter lack of crowds, he might wonder if he were entering a Colorado Springs shopping mall.
The tall man smiled unctuously at him, and then the tour-cum-shopping-trip began.
Makepeace decided that the tall man really was a salesman, and a particularly pushy and oily one at that. He practically hung over them like a vulture, tenaciously, like he worked on commission only and was desperate to avoid letting a sale slip through his fingers. Heck, Makepeace thought, that made as much sense as anything else today. He steeled himself for the hard sell he figured was coming.
The tall man led them into the first "shop." He said, "These are our space-time portals and dimensional gateways. A fascinating selection, you must agree."
The room was a cavernous space, filled with odd niches and shadowy recesses of various sizes. SG-3 walked in and looked around. All the recesses held bizarre objects.
On the left was a construct that looked like a giant artificial beehive with a doorway cut into it.
On the right was an enormous gyroscope armored in dull gray metal. Its three rings turned with ponderous grace around a tumbling sphere covered in hexagonal plates. The eternal motion was mesmerizing, and Makepeace stopped to watch it. He figured the demented contraption was probably three times his own height. How did it keep moving like that?
The rings stopped rotating and locked into place. Round lights on their forward surfaces came on and throbbed in time to a slow, deep pulsing sound. Each ring had lined up inside the other to form a circular frame around the sphere, which had also stopped moving. Its plates began opening up, and blinding white light streamed forth. When the brilliance faded, a pool of viscous, oily blackness had replaced the sphere within the rings.
Johnson said, "Looks like the Stargate's evil cousin."
"That it does," Makepeace agreed. He got a very bad vibe just looking at it, and was beginning to wonder if every single thing on this planet was going to be creepy.
He was so focused on the alien monstrosity's odd similarity to the Stargate that he jumped when the tall man leaned forward to explain. "This is the Gravity Drive," the tall man said. "It allows a spaceship to travel anywhere in the universe in the blink of an eye. It's much faster than even the Stargate. You can also step through it. You're welcome to give it a try."
All four men eyed the opaque black surface suspiciously and declined the offer.
"How does it work?" asked Henderson.
The tall man said, "It generates a miniature black hole, which allows it to fold space and punch a hole through to the other side. The spaceship travels through the hole, and when the Drive is deactivated space goes back to normal."
"That's it?" said Johnson, who really wasn't as impressed with the whole black hole thing as Makepeace thought he ought to be.
"Well, in the interests of full disclosure, I must tell you there is a slight problem with the actual transit."
Makepeace didn't like the sound of that. "Oh?"
"There are reports that a ship actually transits through a dimension of pure chaos, and the effects on the crew are somewhat...unfortunate."
"Unfortunate, how?"
The tall man hemmed a bit, then admitted, "They go violently, homicidally insane."
"Uh huh," Makepeace said, ignoring the way his team was twitching. "Okay, no offence, but we'll pass on this one."
The tall man nodded regretfully. "I thought you might say that. Let me show you some other items." He led them to the next alcove. The walls inside were pure white. In the middle of the alcove were two simple metal posts, a little taller than waist high. Beside one post sat several squat canisters. The posts were humming like an electronic tuning fork.
The tall man said, "This is another of our portals. It only goes to just one world, though."
"Not very flexible," Makepeace commented. He observed the tall man's poker face, and said, "This is just a wild guess, but I imagine this one has issues, too?"
The tall man sighed theatrically. "Yes, well, the place it connects to is rather barren, and I'm told that there's a being there who wants to become the Lord of the Dead." He said this with a suspiciously knowing smile.
"We'll pass."
Andrews wandered away from the group, towards a pair of seven-sided columns. A crystal skull with bright blue jewels for eyes sat atop the first one. He passed by that, uninterested, and moved on to the second.
This pedestal had a smaller stand on it, with prongs to hold a crazily angled gemstone. The stone was black with red striations, and glowed softly. The group gathered around it. Makepeace stared into one of the facets, and could have sworn he saw other worlds and grotesque beings.
The tall man said, "This is the Shining Trapezohedron. A nice little item, and it would fit easily into one of those backpacks you are carrying. I can give you a very good deal on it."
Johnson focused on it, then backed away with revulsion. "There's some weird stuff in there. I saw an alien with tentacles looking back at me."
The tall man nodded. "Yes, it acts as a window to other worlds. You can view anywhere in all of space-time with this and learn all kinds of fascinating things. It does require some special maintenance, though."
"Oh? Like what?" asked Andrews.
"Well, it is a special interest of Nyarlathotep's, and I believe there are certain, um, sacrifices required as part of its use."
"Sacrifices?" said Henderson.
Andrews said, "That doesn't sound good. And that name sounds kind of Egyptian. This Nyarlathotep isn't a Goa'uld, is he?"
"Hardly," the salesman sniffed. "He is one of the Great Old Ones."
"Is that like the Ancients?" Henderson asked.
"Sounds like it," said Andrews.
"Doesn't matter," said Makepeace. "Their old leftovers are nothing but trouble. We'll pass on this, too." He folded his arms across his chest. "Look, I know you're just trying to make a sale, but we've already got a dimensional portal of our own back on Earth, and we don't like it none. Sorry, but we don't need another."
"Of course," said the tall man agreeably. If he was disappointed, he didn't show it. He eyed them, considering the large amounts of armament each Marine was carrying, and offered, "We also have a wide array of weapons. Perhaps you would be interested in looking at those items, instead?"
Every member of SG-3 perked up at the mention of weapons. Glad to be on more familiar ground, Makepeace said, "Yes, I think we'd like that very much."
* * * * * * *
The tall man led
them down a stone corridor and into another large room. He spread
his arms wide. "These are special...strategic...weapons.
Makepeace looked around. From what he could see, the salesman spoke the truth. Everything on display could be easily carried by just one man. He saw a large cylinder full of constantly swirling green liquid. It glowed evilly. The mere sight of it sent a shiver down his spine, so he bypassed it without another thought and focused on the next item his eyes fell on. It was a glassy, violet object shaped like a very elongated egg. It also glowed, but looked more like a piece of modern art or a designer lamp, rather than a weapon.
"What's this?" he asked.
Looking pleased that something had piqued Makepeace's interest, the tall man said, "This Artifact is a container of ninth dimensional matter. It's perfect if you have an enemy more powerful than you are and you want to keep them from launching a full-scale invasion against you."
By that simple measure, it sounded great. Earth could use something to keep the Goa'uld at bay. But then again, based on everything SG-3 had seen so far, Makepeace figured there had to be a catch. He asked, "So what does it do?" He felt vindicated in his suspicions when the tall man looked reluctant.
"To be honest, it's more for arms escalation races. It's an ultimate weapon, really."
"Again, what does it do?"
"Once deployed, the ninth dimensional matter triggers a chain reaction of destruction of ordinary matter that spreads in all directions at the speed of light. Nothing can stop this. All mass at the leading edges of the reaction wave is utterly obliterated."
"This weapon destroys the entire universe?" Makepeace said, just to clarify the impossible sounding function of the Artifact. "So it's the ultimate doomsday weapon?"
"Mostly," the tall man said with an ingratiating bob of his head.
"Mostly?" Makepeace said incredulously.
"There are also reports of obsession, and side-effects that show up with continuous exposure to its special radiation. Biological mutations have been observed." At SG-3's unhappy expressions, he chose not to say any more.
"Bummer," said Andrews.
"Don't deploy it and mutate. Deploy it and destroy the whole freaking universe. Talk about total destruction," Johnson said. "This doesn't sound like anyone wins."
The tall man disagreed. "Oh, no, that's not true. The ninth dimensional aliens who created it viewed it not as a weapon of mass destruction, but as a tool for urban renewal, as it were."
"Terraforming an entire universe?" said Andrews.
"I don't think 'terraforming' really covers it," said Henderson.
"This is just ducky for ninth dimensional aliens," said Makepeace, "but lousy for us. Let's move on."
They walked to the other side of the room, where a few more strange items were on display. There was a knee high, leathery green object. It looked organic and alien, like an oversized egg with an X cut in its top. On a shelf nearby was a small vial of liquid with a label on it reading "Chromosome 24." A bucket-sized, clear container held a dense, black mist. There were more containers on other shelves, but Makepeace just glanced over them.
"These are our biological weapons," said the tall man. "Perhaps something will interest you here?"
"Biological weapons are repulsive," Andrews stated categorically.
Henderson said, "Oh, I don't know. There might be something cool here."
"I thought a former med student would have been required to take a medical ethics course or two."
"I dropped out before that class," Henderson shot back. He gestured at the container of black mist. It twisted and writhed, pressing at the transparent walls of its prison like it was aware of them and couldn't wait to get at them. "What's this?"
The tall man said, "Oh, you have a good eye, sir. That is a very special weapon, and quite effective once it's unleashed. It's affordable on a small budget, as well."
Makepeace said, "That's nice, but answer the question. What is it?"
The tall man flashed him an irritated look, but quickly masked it with a bland expression. "This is the Creeping Black Mist. It will cover a biological organism and turn it inside out."
"It does what?!?"
"Eeeeew," said Andrews, making a disgusted face.
"Gross," Johns agreed, looking equally revolted.
Andrews glared at Henderson. "I told you biological weapons were repulsive."
Unfazed, Henderson said, "I can't even imagine how that thing would work. Can it be set to attack particular individuals? Does it have an off switch of some kind?"
The tall man admitted, "The lack of such directional and containment controls are something of a drawback."
Makepeace said, "So use it and wipe out everyone and everything alive on a planet, including yourselves?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Just clarifying."
"But you could always drop it on an enemy's planet and wait until it finishes its work."
"Is it still functional at that point?" Johnson asked.
"Of course."
"So no one can ever go back to that world. This thing's useless."
"I wouldn't say useless..."
Makepeace cut him off: "I would. Biological and doomsday weapons aren't really our style. Don't you have something more...conventional."
The tall man said, "Perhaps you are interested in weapons for smaller battles and individual combat?"
"Yeah, that sounds better."
The tall man smiled. "Naturally, I do have some things I think you'll want to look at."
* * * * * * *
In the next "shop," SG-3 saw a wide variety of unusual items, from a large black sword with strange runes carved deep into its blade, to a collection of ancient scrolls, dusty books, and modern paperbacks and CDs, what appeared to be a plain gold wedding band, and even an unlabeled VHS videocassette sitting in solitary splendor on a table in its own niche. The material on the tape, the tall man explained, would kill anyone who viewed it after seven days had passed. Just make copies and pass it on to unsuspecting enemies.
Makepeace doubted the Goa'uld had VHS players, and said so. The tall man looked vaguely disappointed. SG-3 inspected the spines of some of the books, which had titles like "De Vermis Mysteriis," "Unaussprechlichen Kulten," "The Book of Eibon," and "In the Mouth of Madness."
There were some odd statues as well: one of a reclining young man or god, with an elaborate headdress of horns and a round depression in his forehead. Next to that statue was a jeweled horn, clearly intended to fit into the statue's head.
Another statue was of a horrible, squatting monster, with scaly skin, a bulbous stomach, heavy clawed limbs, and large membranous wings on its back. Its head was octopus-like, with a mass of feelers in place of a face.
In the process of looking around and rejecting sales pitches, Makepeace earned a couple more irritated and downright malevolent looks from the tall man. He figured he must've said "no" a few too many times and the tall man was getting a mite annoyed with him. So far, nothing in the tall man's "little shop" looked the least bit promising, but Makepeace had to admit he'd have one hell of an entertaining report for General Hammond. Not that the general would believe a word of it. Makepeace probably wouldn't either, if he were in Hammond's place.
"What's this thing?" Johnson asked suddenly, interrupting Makepeace's train of thought.
The lieutenant was inspecting a small silver sphere. It was about four inches in diameter, and completely featureless.
"Ah," the tall man said. "That's a particular favorite of mine. It's called a Sentinel Sphere."
Great, Makepeace thought, yet one more weapon that's probably more dangerous to the wielder than to the enemy. Based on the scary salesman's previous picks, Makepeace figured the sphere couldn't possibly be anything good.
He was right.
The tall man was explaining how the device worked, "...it flies around, acquiring designated targets. It extends two blades to anchor itself to a victim's forehead. It then extends a cranial drill bit, drills through the victim's skull, and uses a micro-pump to evacuate the brain tissue." He sounded like he relished every single word of that loathsome description.
"Oh, yuck. Does that mean what I think it does?" asked Andrews.
Henderson answered, "It means the sphere drills a hole in a person's head and sucks out the brains."
"That was a rhetorical question, Tommy."
The tall man picked up the sphere and said, "Let me demonstrate some of its capabilities."
Makepeace said, "No! That's not necessary--" But he was too late.
The tall man tossed the sphere into the air. It immediately started zipping around the room, moving so fast it appeared to be a silver flash. The tall man said, "Unlike some of the other weapons you've seen today, this one has excellent intelligence. Each sphere is controlled by cerebral brain matter taken from intelligent beings, so it has above average reasoning abilities. In addition, it has advanced visual and targeting mechanisms. Observe."
He made a small gesture, and the sphere zoomed straight at Henderson. The corporal squawked and dropped flat on the floor. The sphere made a right angle turn, and Andrews dived aside. The sphere next targeted Makepeace, circling him at dizzying speeds. Then it stopped dead, hovered right in front of his face, and extended its lethal armament. Makepeace stared, wide-eyed, at two very sharp, spiked blades and a terrifying drill whirring just inches from his skull. A threatening, high-pitched whine filled the air.
"Call it off," Johnson snarled, unshouldering his rifle and flicking off the safety. "Call that thing off right now."
"Of course," the tall man said calmly. He looked completely unconcerned by the automatic rifle aimed at him. He didn't appear to do anything, but the sphere's weapons retracted and it flew back to its master's hand. The tall man lovingly stroked the sphere like a pet, then slipped it into a pocket.
Makepeace swallowed a few times and worked on keeping himself from hyperventilating.
"I'm sorry, gentlemen, I didn't mean to frighten you," the tall man said to SG-3. He sounded sincere, and looked contrite. The four Marines stared at him in silence. Obviously, the creep was an excellent actor. That little demo had been designed specifically to be frightening.
The tall man continued, "I merely wanted to demonstrate the versatility, agility, speed, and deadliness of this particular weapon. It's quite impressive, don't you think?"
"Oh, yeah, it sure is," Johnson said sarcastically as he secured his rifle.
Makepeace had finally managed to breathe normally again. Don't offend the locals, his better side chanted in his brain, which thankfully still resided inside his skull. Don't offend the locals. His not-so-better side came back with: Aw, screw it.
He wrestled with himself a little more, and settled on a compromise: He wouldn't shoot this whackjob, and he'd take his team and go home. Right now.
But he couldn't resist a little needling. "You know, all of the items you have for sale seem like a heck of a lot more trouble than they're worth. In fact, they seem likely to screw over pretty much anyone who uses them."
"I'm sure they do," the tall man agreed easily. "But a sufficiently clever and talented person could manage them successfully. I'm sure you gentlemen would have little or no difficulty with them."
That's right, Makepeace thought cynically, just try to appeal to the prospective customer's vanity and overconfidence. Real nice. He was pretty certain that's what everyone thought if and when they purchased one of these darling little gems. He also doubted that anyone but the tall man here could make the obnoxious devices behave.
The tall man added, "No one ever returns to complain, either."
Makepeace figured that statement could be amended to 'no one ever returns.' SG-3 really needed to get out of Dodge ASAP. Grudgingly, he realized that they needed to be diplomatic about how they made their exit. If he annoyed this sales-ghoul, undoubtedly he would also annoy higher ups back home who might very well be interested in some of the merchandise here. He thought it would be a mistake to deal with the tall man, but he didn't make those kinds of decisions.
His not-so-nice side wondered if maybe Earth should find a way to pass this gate address on to the Goa'uld. That might make things very interesting for the snakes. Then again, they'd probably be right at home with this scary stuff. Reluctantly, he decided everyone would be better off if the Goa'uld didn't know about this place. But the idea of some of these novelties blowing up in their faces was amusing, no doubt about that.
Now, to extricate his team from the tall man's oily clutches and get home with a minimum of fuss and bother...
To the tall man, he said firmly, "I'm sorry, but we're not purchasing anything. As I explained to you before, we are merely an advance scouting team and simply don't have that kind of authority. We will return home and make a full report, and I'm certain someone from Earth with authority will contact you soon." Hah, fat chance. No way would he recommend anything like that.
The tall man sighed with apparent regret. "I see. Then I shall accompany you back to the Stargate."
"That really not necessary--"
"Oh, I insist." The tall man appeared implacable.
Unable to come up with any plausible excuses to turn down the gesture and avoid any more time in the sinister salesman's company, Makepeace resigned himself to the inevitable.
* * * * * * *
Outside, the fog had grown so dense that Makepeace could only see a few feet in front of him. After walking maybe twenty yards, he turned his head, and could not make out any sign of the massive stone structure SG-3 had only recently exited. The alien Muzak and sound of ocean waves had not merely retreated, but had cut off completely. As before, P3X-8522 was silent and eerie.
Incredibly, the trip back to the Stargate seemed quite short, taking only a few minutes. Makepeace didn't question it; instead he was grateful for it. He felt a great rush of relief as the dark gray ring materialized like magic out of the dense mist.
He turned to the tall man. "Well, this is it. Thank you for everything." The words he really wanted to say were choking him, trying to claw their way out of his throat, but he managed to stay civil. "We'll be on our way now." He deliberately didn't ask any of his team to dial Earth. No way did he want the tall man to know Earth's gate address.
However, the tall man surprised him. Again. "Allow me, gentlemen," the ghoul said with formal politeness. He stepped forward, and, without any apparent hesitation for thought, punched in the coordinates for Earth.
Crap, Makepeace thought. That's just great. Wonderful. Perfect. Aloud, he said, "I see you know the coordinates for Earth," and didn't even try to hide his displeasure.
The tall man smiled. "Yes, I've been there before."
Makepeace couldn't doubt him.
The tall man said, "Before you go, allow me to give you this." He pushed a lacquered black and gold cube into Makepeace's reluctant hands.
Makepeace turned the object over, handling it more gingerly than he would a warmed up bottle of freshly made nitroglycerin. For all he knew, this thing was just as deadly and a hundred times touchier. "What's this?"
"A simple toy. It's called Lemarchand's Puzzle Box," the tall man said. "Just a free sample, so your superiors back on Earth have something tangible to examine and understand the worth of my merchandise. I hope to do business with them soon."
Makepeace eyed him. The tall man always sounded so sincere, despite that monotone voice. Makepeace didn't trust this latest development, not one bit. So-called "free samples" from legitimate shops were usually trivial, near-worthless items intended merely to whet the appetite. But considering this guy's other wares, the apparently innocuous little toy was probably a time bomb.
'Don't offend the locals' echoed through his head yet again. Times like this, Makepeace really hated being nice to aliens.
The tall man put his hands behind his back and waited, smiling, obviously intending to see them off. The flickering blue radiance from the event horizon lit the fog and played off his features, giving his face an even more macabre cast. For an instant, the dark pits of his eyes glimmered as they caught the eldritch light.
Makepeace repressed a sigh and weighed the puzzle box in his hand. It was light, and felt like it was constructed of wood or some similar material. He saw that it had moveable faces and pieces, like some alien Rubik's Cube. He must have touched something just right--or really, just wrong--because one piece shifted slightly, and the box emitted a few tinkling musical notes. Despite his worries, it was a pleasant, inoffensive sounding little melody.
Hammond would probably yell at him for days if he detoured somewhere to ditch the thing. At least he had a physical object to back up the loony-tunes report he'd have to make. He'd just make sure to insist no one actually solve the cursed puzzle. In fact, he'd nag and nag at Hammond until the general gave in and ordered a team take the puzzle box to some uninhabited hellhole of a planet and drop it into the nearest active volcano.
Yeah, that seemed like a plan.
He politely said to the tall man, "Thank you for the gift. I'm certain Earth will be in contact with you shortly." No way, not if he had anything to say about it.
And the tall man merely waved goodbye, looking quite pleased, as SG-3 returned home through the Stargate.
*** End ***
October, 2008
FYI, in case anyone is interested in the various references:
List of trouble-causing merchandise on offer, in order of appearance:
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