SG1-16 Four Dragons (11 page)

“And I hope you packed some extra special MREs for me,” said the colonel. “You know how much I love your taste in food.”

Siler stepped back and saluted. “Yes, sir. I gave you two extra choices on top of the regular fare. Hopefully, that’ll be enough.”

“Don’t forget to tape our favorite show while I’m gone.”

“
The Simpsons
is in reruns till the fall, sir, but I’ll grab it just in case,” Siler replied in his typical straight-faced manner.

“
Chevron Four encoded
.”

Backpacks strapped on, Siler came over to where Sam stood quietly with her father. The sergeant held out a nylon harness with a webbed pouch. “This should do it, Major.”

Sam thanked him and slipped the thing on. The empty pouch rested over the upper left pocket of her vest. “Ambassador?”

Huang opened the box and she took out both communication devices. Holding one in each hand, a brief tingle ran up her neck. A ripple raced across each ball as they sprung to life. The one in her left projected an image of the ball in her right hand and vice versa. It was like looking at mirrors in a funhouse, each repeating back the other’s image ad infinitum.

“
Chevron Five encoded
.”

She handed one of the balls back to Huang. “Now that they’re keyed in, you shouldn’t have any trouble receiving our signal.”

Huang cradled the ball in his hand. “Exactly how will this work?”

Inserting her com ball into the webbing that hung from a jacket pocket, Sam did a slow three-sixty. As she turned back around, Colonel O’Neill’s image shimmered on the ball in Huang’s hand.

The colonel frowned. “That’s enough, Carter.”

“Only making sure we have this set up correctly, sir.”

“
Chevron Six encoded
.”

“I said, put it away.”

Huang objected. “Our agreement depends on use of these devices.”

The colonel spun around. “Not for this first leg of the trip.”

Sam’s father bowed his head as he usually did when Selmak was about to speak. S/he faced the ambassador and said, “
The colonel is correct. These devices are not secure and the cargo ship we have arranged is situated on a Tok’ra outpost. If the System Lords were to discover its whereabouts, hundreds of lives would be jeopardized
.”

“
Chevron Seven locked
.”

The Stargate’s brilliant blue
kawoosh
erupted and then settled into place. For one brief moment, the only sound in the gate-room was the ripple of the event horizon.

General Hammond was the first to break the silence. “I apologize, Mister Ambassador, but our Tok’ra allies have a right to their privacy.”

“As long as it is a temporary situation,” Huang said as he put his ball back into the box. “I expect communications to be engaged once you are free of Tok’ra airspace.”

“If you’ll follow me,” said General Hammond, “we’ll return to the briefing room.”

Sam’s father hugged her briefly. “Give my regards to Dr. Jackson.”

“I will.” She squeezed her father’s hand as they separated, appreciative of his optimistic sendoff. Until his blending with Selmak, the words ‘optimistic’ and ‘father’ had never belonged in the same sentence. Turning back toward the gate, she awaited the colonel’s order to move out, hoping she’d be able to pass along her father’s message sooner rather than later.

“Teal’c, help the Major secure that thing in her pack,” the colonel ordered.

Sam held out the com ball, but her Jaffa team mate didn’t take it. Instead, he openly stared at the ambassador, an uncertain yet dark look in his eyes.

“Teal’c?”

He blinked. “My apologies, Major Carter.” He took the ball from her hand and stowed it in her backpack.

“SG-1. Master Bra’tac. You have a go,” said General Hammond. “Godspeed.”

The colonel led the way up the ramp, disappearing through the watery portal. Bra’tac followed. With Teal’c at her side, Sam approached the event horizon. She sucked in a breath and gave him a nod.

Teal’c never took his eyes off the ambassador until they stepped through the gate.

Chapter Six

Though barely able to keep his eyes open, Daniel dropped a stone on his left quadrant of the board. “I’m going to need sleep at some point.”

“We will rest soon.” Having plunked a stone directly above, Yu raised stern eyes to Daniel. “Or would you prefer to be returned to your cage?”

Play or slowly die, was that it?

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Daniel said, managing a weak grin.

He set a stone to the left of Yu’s newest gambit, blocking two sides of the board from play. If he was lucky, maybe he could capture at least one piece. It would be a first. “I’m not very good at this game.”

“This I know.” Yu set a second piece beside his first.

“And yet, we keep playing.” Daniel plunked down another white stone, surrounding Yu’s original black on three sides.

“Consider this to be practice.”

“I’m sorry? Practicing what?”

Yu played another piece, this time to the right of Daniel’s top stone. “It has been said that to succeed in war, one must practice dissimulation. One must hide their true intent.”

In other words, Daniel wasn’t going to get a clear answer. Having no other choice but to keep playing, or end up near paralyzed in Yu’s torturous cage, he picked up another stone from his bowl. Then, it hit him.

Daniel sat back in his chair.
Practice dissimulation.
He’d heard the phrase before, or rather, he’d read it. He just couldn’t remember where.

There were still holes in his pre-Ascension memories. Not huge gaps, only small frustrating ones. He could remember most of his time with SG-1, though some of his early research was lost. He still remembered most of Budge’s work, though not Campbell’s cross cultural research. The
Book of the Dead
had practically been tattooed on his eyelids, yet Grave’s study of pre-Christian deities was foggy. When it came to Chinese dynastic artifacts, he could remember just fine. But what little he could remember of the country’s writings, passed along from his time with Kevin or from his own research, drew a blank.

As did Yu’s little gem.

It has been said
…

“Play your piece,” Yu commanded, smoothing the front of his robes.

Daniel hurriedly put another stone down, to the right of his original play.

Instead of his normally rapid counter, Yu studied the board. Daniel took advantage of the reprise to scan the room once more, hoping for some detail, some artifact, that might help make sense. As long as he stayed alive — with the hopes that rescue was on the way, somehow or someway — there was a unique opportunity here. A chance to learn. A way to follow his reaffirmed desire to understand Earth’s past.

So little was known about Yu’s time on Earth. From the trappings of the System Lord’s throne room to his obvious obsession with the ancient Chinese game, the possibility that the Goa’uld spent actual time in China was high.

Daniel’s eyes drifted toward the two wall-length scrolls on the far screen. A few single black painted letters covered the top halves of the red cloths. From what Daniel could recall, the blocky pictogram style matched early Xia dynasty samples, like the ones found on P3Y-702. That would make them at least 4,000 years old.

“Your turn again, Dr. Jackson.” Yu had laid another black below Daniel’s latest play. The interplay of black and white stones had begun to look like a ladder descending toward the board’s edge.

Daniel pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. Outside, the sun had set, leaving the incense-filled braziers the only illumination in the room. His eyes stung from the smoke.

“Can we take a break for a moment?”

Yu pressed his lips together and nodded his assent.

“You’re very…,” Daniel searched for a safe word, “fond of Chinese culture. This game, for instance — ”

“Games teach.”

Daniel waved his hand. “So you say. I also noticed that your Royal Guard, both Oshu and Lao Dan, are Chinese, but the rest of your Jaffa come from mixed cultures.”

“There are reasons they are members of my Royal Guard,” Yu said. “Reasons of my own.”

Daniel pointed toward the scrolls. “What about those? Are they from your time in China?”

Yu turned toward the scrolls. “Those are to remind me of my time amongst the Tau’ri.” He sighed. “Much happened during my reign. Much I remember. Much I
must
remember.”

Sticking his glasses back on, Daniel peered at the nearest scroll. A random memory popped up. He’d seen this scroll before, on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.

The bottom half showed a man standing by a river painted in gold. The river’s banks were swollen, threatening to break out of its boundaries, but the man appeared calm. Serene.

The man wore a red
mianfu
vest, similar to Yu’s. Same imperial tuft at his chin, same green hat with a horsehair tail.

Surprised, Daniel looked back at Yu. “Is that you?” He cringed a little at the pun. The jokes had all been done before and besides, if he was right, this wasn’t exactly funny.

It was more a case of this potentially being remarkable. Historical proof of the Goa’uld’s time on Earth, right in front of everyone who’d ever graced that museum.

A brazier sparked, releasing a tuft of incense laden smoke into the air. Inhaling deeply, Yu closed his eyes. “A great flood threatened the Chinese people shortly after my arrival.”

“The Yellow River?” Daniel asked.

“It had a different name then.” Yu opened his eyes and glanced at Daniel. “One that spoke to truth. The cradle of life amongst the Chinese… and their death.”

Yu put down his bowl of stones and folded his hands in his lap. “I had yet to secure my place of power when the river’s banks broke. As my host was a civil servant in the court of King Yao, I knew that any invasion by my Jaffa would be a waste of time. Thousands had already died in the flooding — ”

“So what did you do? I mean, any other Goa’uld would’ve just sat back and waited.”

Yu laughed, the boom in his voice filling the room. “I am not other Goa’uld. By now, that should be obvious.”

“So… you helped?” The idea of a Goa’uld actually protecting people was a bit farfetched for Daniel.

“First, I eliminated Yao. He was a fool, wishing to run from the people who served him. I replaced him, and with my Jaffa, I dredged new river channels to stop the floods from destroying my new domain. Thirteen years were spent doing so, with 20,000 workers dedicated to the endeavor.”

Yu turned his gaze toward the cherry tree. “Great sacrifices were made to save China.”

Daniel followed Yu’s line of sight below the tree to the crude statue of the woman and children. Flames from the brazier reflected off its jade surface. Clearly, the statue had some meaning to Yu, but when he tried to ask, the Goa’uld returned his attention to the game.

The entire concept of Yu actually caring about humans was too impossible for Daniel to believe. The Goa’uld was no different than any other.

“Enough,” Yu said. He plunked a stone down beneath Daniel’s small grouping, effectively surrounding the white stones on three sides. If Daniel could take the two spaces on the far right, he could stave off Yu’s winning a good dozen stones.

Daniel set down another stone and then realized his error. All Yu would have to do was set his next piece to the right of Daniel’s and he’d still win.

He snorted. “I really do suck at this game.”

Dropping a stone on the far other side of the board, Yu said, “We have only played one round, Daniel Jackson. There are far more rounds to go in
Wéiqí
.”

“Multiple rounds, great,” Daniel said, then paused. “Wait a minute. From what I know of this game, you could have taken the entire group.”

“Ah,” said Yu with a smile. “To mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy is one of the first principles in war.”

Daniel was about to play another stone when he stopped short. A memory popped into his head. Actually, an entire slew of memories. A wave of dizziness hit him and he clutched his bowl, waiting for it to subside. Gasping for air, he said, “I think I recognize that quote. It’s from Sun Tzu’s
Art of War
. One of the most famous series of writings to come out of ancient China.”

Yu threw the captured stones into his bowl. “Is that what they call it now?”

“But the
Art of War
was written by Sun Tzu more than fifteen hundred years after you left Earth. Around 500 B.C., I believe. So it’s not possible that you knew him. Sun Tzu, I mean.”

Yu shrugged. “I am not familiar with the Tau’ri system of dates. Now… play. It is your turn.”

The pressure in Daniel’s head subsided though the mystery of Yu’s knowledge of Sun Tzu remained.

Picking up another stone, he remembered something else. Something much more recent. Jack had said something similar about misdirection when he’d acted like an ass, throwing MREs at Daniel while pushing him to shoot.

What was it he’d said afterward?

Trust me, the concept’s been around a lot longer than the Air Force
.

For a brief moment, Daniel wondered if Jack might have read something as scholarly as the
Art of War
. Knowing how much his friend liked to keep hidden, Daniel didn’t rule it out.

Plunking down another stone, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he should have listened more closely to Jack’s advice.

If nothing else, it might have helped in this game against Lord Yu.

DESTINATION: YU’S HOMEWORLD

STATUS: SAR ON ROUTE VIA HYPERSPACE

SHIP TIME: N/A

02 JUL 03/2215 HRS BASE TIME

Preferring action to sitting on his hands, Jack raced toward the intersection, pushing the car as fast as his thumbs could fly. When the light turned yellow, he double-timed the trigger action. Fifty bucks rode on getting through before the light changed to red. The family’s pink sedan picked up speed, made the light and then rounded the corner. In the blink of an eye, he slammed right into the Springfield Dam.

“Colonel, would you mind shutting off the sound on your game?”

“Too noisy for you, Carter?”

“Sorry, sir. It’s not that I don’t love the Simpsons, but…”

“Gotcha.” Jack shut off the Gameboy and jumped up from the deck behind the center console. For a few moments, he just watched his second-in-command fly the cargo ship through the blue haze of hyperspace. Her reflection distorted off the port side window, exaggerating the tension in her jaw. Palms down on the red control globe, her shoulders rose up practically to her ears.

Tense was definitely the word of the day when it came to Carter.

“I’ve got Homer singing the blues on my iPod,” he offered. “Want me to try and rig it to the ship’s intercom?”

“That’s all right, sir. Teal’c and Bra’tac are resting in the stern compartment.” Carter’s head didn’t budge from its forward position as she reached left to tweak a knob on the navigation board. Her neck would snap if she kept this up.

“A little opera, maybe? Something to pass the time.”

“No, sir. I’m doing just fine.”

Like hell, she was.

Not that Jack was in any better shape, but he’d had practice shoving aside things he didn’t want to think about, like nasty images of Daniel in trouble… or worse.

Not going there, thank you
.

“We’re getting Daniel back, Major.”

“Yes, sir,” Carter replied. To Jack’s ears, it sounded like an automatic response, but it would have to do for now.

“He’ll be home and ready to pester us with his latest translation of god knows what.”

He climbed into the navigator’s seat, the only other chair available in the cockpit. Why the Goa’uld would insist on dressing their cargo ships with elaborately engraved gold walls, fancy bulkheads, and high-tech gear, yet only provide two chairs was beyond him. Stretching his long frame out against the seat’s ample back, he flipped open the cover to his watch. “What’s our ETA, Major?”

“Same as it was last time you asked, sir. Only thirty minutes sooner. We should be there in about eight hours.”

Eight more hours of doing absolutely nothing. Wonderful. Years of jumping through a Stargate and ‘bam! You’re there’ made anything less feel like watching paint dry.

Carter slid her right palm clockwise, making a minor course adjustment. The ship shuddered briefly and then settled down again. She leaned back in her chair, her shoulders relaxing a bit. The glow from the control globe illuminated her face — and the god-damned com ball hanging from her jacket pocket.

Jack gestured toward the Goa’uld device. “I see Huang’s getting the bird’s eye view the whole way there.”

Carter shrugged. “I don’t see what other choice we have, sir. Not unless we want to renege on our agreement.”

“Twenty more hours of Huang peeking over our shoulder,” Jack said. “Maybe the guy will take a nap or something.”

Carter glanced at him and then back at the controls. She chewed her lip, a tell of hers that always let Jack know something was whirling about in that giant brain.

“Spill it.”

“How do we know Daniel’s all right?”

“Because if he wasn’t, he would’ve made a guest appearance by now, right here.”

When she raised an eyebrow, he wiggled his fingers in the air, a lame attempt to mock the great and powerful powers of Ascension. “We’d feel a breeze. The cockpit would get all glowy. Then we’d start hearing all about candlelight and meals cooked too long.”

Carter’s eyes got rounder than Jack thought possible. “You think Oma Desala would help Daniel re-ascend if Yu kills him?”

Crap. “He’s fine, Carter. At least your dad seems to think so.”

She nodded her head a few times and turned back to the task of flying the ship. Changing gears, Jack switched on the systems display. Goa’uld symbols danced across the top and bottom of the projected screen, showing ship status. What little he’d memorized of the snakehead language was enough to tell him the engines were running at maximum.

As he stared at the monitor, Teal’c and Bra’tac came forward from the aft compartment. Jack spun around in his chair to greet them. “Any way we can coax some more speed out of this barge?”