Stargate SG-1: Sacrifice Moon (5 page)

BOOK: Stargate SG-1: Sacrifice Moon
12.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

"That's some kind of tavern, Daniel."

"Oh." Daniel's eyebrows went up. "And...?"

For the life of him, Jack couldn't think of a single reason not to
do it. He turned to the security guys and said, "Right. We'll... be in
the bar."

Two important things to learn about offworld bars.

One, money was important. Daniel had managed to trade some
kind of jewelry he'd brought along - for the sake of history, Jack
hoped it wasn't beads - for a round of local brew. Jack had specified nonalcoholic, but Daniel wasn't sure the concept had translated.
Teal'c unhesitatingly tasted his, and said gravely, "This contains
intoxicating substances."

"Right. Stick to canteens." He gazed at Teal'c for a few seconds.
"But it's safe, right? Not poisonous or anything?"

"I do not believe so. My symbiote would react if the drink contained anything harmful."

That did it. Jack frankly couldn't resist a sip - not every day
you run across alien daiquiris - and was surprised at the taste that
exploded on his tongue. Heavy, silky, fruity, sweet, with a nice brisk
slap at the end for freshness. "Not bad," he said. Might try it on the way back, especially if they ended up stuck in the departure line for,
oh, hours. Take a sample of it back for the lab geeks. Might have
some medicinal purposes.

Oh, the heavy duty of exploring the galaxy...

Daniel was examining his glass too -not the drink, the glass. Turning it around in his hands like some kind of precious artifact - which,
Jack realized, it probably was, from an archaeologist's point of view.

"It's hand blown," Daniel announced. "Not very well made,
but -"

"It's a bar glass." Carter finished his sentence. "It stands to reason
they'd make them sturdy rather than decorative."

Which made Daniel's face light up. "Well, you'd think so, but
some of the cups we unearthed at digs around Athens really showed a
very high level of sophistication in manufacturing techniques, not to
mention style. The sand here must have a completely different composition - most glass from this period on Earth is green, maybe yellow, but this is more iridescent... of course you get iridescence with
age and oxidation, but °"

"Kids," Jack said. "Take it outside if you're gonna geek out. Teal'c
and I are trying to maintain our dignity."

He could have sworn the Jaffa smiled. Or quivered a lip, at least.

Daniel looked offended. "Geek out? Jack, we're here to observe,
record, learn - "

"Like I said. Geek out." He didn't mean it; it was part of their
established patter, and it helped keep everybody from tensing up.
Including Daniel.

Daniel probably would have continued the verbal duel, but he was
interrupted by the approach of a large band of well-dressed, wellscrubbed men in long robes.

"So, they're not togas?" Jack muttered. "Look kinda like togas."

"Tunics. Actually, they're chitons, Jack. Oh, or peplos, and that
guy with a cloak, that's a himation,"

"Chitons. Isn't that insect skin...?"

"That's chitinous."

"Oh, sure, and there isn't a connection... T'

Daniel just stared back, thrown. Jack gave him a thin smile and
stood up to greet the newcomers.

Daniel recovered and blurted out the standard universal translator
greeting, we come in peace or peaceful explorers or take me to your
leader. He needn't have bothered. It was pretty obvious that the guy
Jack was facing was the leader, or at least high level enough to make
decisions.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, a little older than Jack's age, apparently; thick silver-gray hair, worn in long curls, fastened here and
there with gold pins and clips. Dark eyes. Jack didn't normally meet
a lot of men in eye makeup, but he'd hit a run of them recently...
Apophis, Teal'c, now this guy, who had dramatic sweeps of eye liner
and something shiny on his lids.

He was wearing that summer-weight wool, like some of the others out there waiting in line; apparently, he wanted to be a man of the
people. Only his wool was high quality, the clasp pins on his tunic
were intricately worked gold with ram's heads, and he had that sleek,
tailored look of somebody accustomed to the finer things in life.

His name, Daniel supplied, was Acton.

"Pleased to meet you," Jack said, and extended his hand. Acton
reached out and did a wrist-to-wrist grip. The guy had an orator's
deep, plummy voice, as well as the authoritative body language, but
it was just noise to Jack. He sent Daniel an inquiring look.

"He says they're honored to have us as guests."

"So this is going well."

"Seems to be."

Jack extricated himself from the man's grip, smiled and nodded.
Heads bobbed in the delegation behind Acton. Everybody looked
cautiously pleased.

Daniel listened to another fast burst of syllables, then offered,
"They want to give us hospitality at - I'm guessing the word means
lodge. Or maybe hotel."

"So long as it's not prison, hey, not turning it down."

Daniel didn't need to translate the after you gestures the delegation was making. They were all trying their damndest to look
friendly about it, too, except for Acton, who stayed dignified, and two
extremely cold-eyed guys in the back that Jack had pegged for some
kind of internal security. Or maybe their breakfast had been served up
by a really bad mess line, too.

Outside of the tavern, Jack slid on his sunglasses against the fierce
glare, much to Acton's interest; he handed them over at Acton's curious gesture, and watched the guy slide them on and look around.
There was a great deal of outcry from the lackeys that Jack hardly
needed Daniel to translate - he knew the sound of sucking up when
he heard it. Oh, sir, those are you! They make you look so august
and imposing! Acton brushed it off, well accustomed to having his
butt kissed, and handed the glasses back to Jack with an appreciative
smile. Jack silently gestured for him to keep them, and took another
pair out of a handy pocket on his tac vest.

Acton looked pleased as punch as he slid on the shades.

"I think you've discovered a huge trade opportunity, sir," Carter
said, poker-faced under her own sunglasses and cap. "We export RayBans to alien worlds."

"That and chocolate bars, Captain. Okay, let's move out, kids,
before our cool wears off."

He followed Acton's lead, heading out. As he did, the local Stargate behind them belched out plasma and settled into a waiting blue
circle. A neat line of travelers began walking through - parents, children, old folks. Chattering like the trip was nothing to speak of. Like
they'd all done it before.

Daniel was right. This was interesting.

Jack just hoped it wouldn't, like the Chinese curse suggested, be
too interesting.

It was a long way to wherever they were going. For one thing, the
Stargate seemed to be outside of town proper; when they emerged
from the big gray stone walls that enclosed the courtyard, Jack saw
lots of scrub-covered hills rolling down toward a glittering blue sea,
and - up a long slope - a city. A big one. It straggled halfway down
the hill, in stepped terraces of gleaming white buildings. A pale road
snaked toward it, jammed with pedestrians and a few slow-moving
carts.

"Unbelievable," Daniel murmured, stopping next to Jack's shoulder. He pointed at a massive, majestic temple, complete with big white
columns, sitting on the crest of the hill. "Jack, that's an Acropolis."

"Like Athens."

"... Only this one's intact and functioning. Probably the seat of
the city's religious center. God, just look at it! Jack, we'll be able to
see how things are arranged inside - the exact placement of the altars
and statues..."

"Fabulous. So, we walk?" Jack said.

Carter nodded toward the shade at the back of the wall. "I hate to
say it, but... do you think those could be taxis?"

Next to another sign labeled in Greek, there were lines of horses,
carts and what looked like chariots, and a bunch of guys idling in the
dirt, throwing the local equivalent of dice. Acton's people sprang into
action, shouting, and the taxi drivers - Jack wished she hadn't said
that, now he couldn't get it out of his head - crowded around, gesturing urgently at their vehicles and spouting torrents of words that
could only be testimonials to how comfortable, fast and affordable
they were. Acton gave a couple of sharp, barking orders, and it got
sorted. Acton's sporty-looking personal conveyance rolled up, taking
the Head Cheese and three lucky suckers-up; the keen-eyed security
guys Jack had noted got their own ride all to themselves. It looked
fast and anonymous, and the charioteer had scars on top of his scars, a
squashed nose, and banks of swords and daggers built into his - what
would you call that? Dashboard?

Jack and Carter ended up in one taxi, Daniel and Teal'c in another,
crammed in with the remainder of Acton's retainers. Their driver,
who smelled like garlic and good old-fashioned sweat, snapped the
reins and the horses clopped calmly up the hill toward the city.

The sun beat down mercilessly, and Jack adjusted his cap to give
maximum coverage as he held to the metal railing for stability. Carter
had been right: it was going to get hot. Over in the other cart - chariot - whatever, Daniel was chattering to the driver and translating
for Teal'c's benefit. Whether or not Teal'c was interested. The Jaffa
looked alert and relaxed, staff weapon braced next to his feet. He
wasn't holding the rail. Jack tried letting go, but the next hard jolt
nearly sent him off the back of the vehicle.

Must have been a Jaffa thing.

"Sir," Carter said, and pointed. "Think that's a cemetery?"

Sure looked like one. Small marble cenotaphs scattered along the
roadside, many with little bundles of dried flowers lying in front of the closed doors of miniature marble buildings. A few statues; Jack
couldn't tell if they were meant to be guardian gods, or memorials of
real people. Real people, he thought. One in particular, of a woman
seated on a bench, holding a child in her arms... there were fresh
flowers next to that one, fluttering pale petals in the ocean breeze.

"Better watch Daniel," Jack finally said. "Make sure he doesn't
dive off to explore."

Sure enough, from the other cart, Daniel was leaning over the rail,
making a photographic record of their progress and looking dangerously frustrated at not getting a closer peek. He had a brief conversation with Teal'c, which Jack imagined went something like, I think
I'll get off and look around, andTeal'c saying, Then Iwillhave to hurt
you, Daniel Jackson, because Daniel ended up staying on the chariot
and looking disappointed as the cenotaphs receded in the distance.

Soon enough, they were approaching the city walls.

Big city walls. Jack craned his neck, looking up, and decided the
granite blocks must have stretched about fifty feet into the air. Some
buckling, here and there, but not enough to weaken the defenses; it
looked pretty damn formidable. It'd take some serious firepower to
bring this place down, bombing runs by B 1B Lancers, maybe. Which
he was pretty sure wouldn't fit through the Stargate in the first place.
The security had Abydos beat all to hell.

A huge set of wooden gates, reinforced with iron strips, stood
open, and traffic passed freely in and out. A couple of Acton's retainers hopped down as they slowed and ran ahead to shout and shove a
path through the crush of people and carts gathered inside the walls,
and pretty soon, they were passing into the sunlight again and the city
proper.

Under the merciless blue sky and hot golden sun, the city gleamed.
Mostly white, but here and there Jack saw pale pink, blue, green, even
a splash of red trim on a window. Flowers in boxes, graceful-looking
pines and evergreens planted in rows to provide much-needed shade.
Lots of billowing canvas-like awnings. The street was paved with
interlocking stones, and the horses' hooves took on a hollow clop
as they moved forward. Along the streets, houses rose two or three
stories on either side.

"Jack!" Daniel was waving at him from the other cart, and pointed at a building ahead. "It's a stoa! Markets!"

Which meant zero to Jack, until they got close to the open-sided,
colonnaded building to see the tables set up, loaded with fruits, vegetables, fabrics, jewelry, glassware, cloth, and a hundred things Jack
didn't immediately recognize. Flea market. Huh. Who knew the
Greeks invented that, too, along with democracy and pita bread?

Daniel continued to gesture and name things, but Jack let it slide
away; he was busy examining the place in terms of tactical advantage.
Which, to be honest, wasn't much. They had pretty good stonework,
and some nice jewelry, but weapons didn't seem much advanced
beyond sharp pointy things to stick in other people. If there was technology here, it was well-concealed.

They rolled to a halt in front of a vast open area, like a town square,
with a huge spraying fountain in the center. Lines of women with
jugs, getting water while they chatted; kids playing and splashing
each other, brown as nuts. Jack and Carter jumped off the taxi and
turned toward Daniel, who was heading toward them with his face
lit up in wonder.

"This is the agora," he said, still locked in uncontrollable lecture
mode. He spread his hands and turned in a complete circle. "God,
Jack, I can't believe it, just look at it! It's like Athens reborn... the
stoa, the statues. I think that's a fountain house over there - "

"Daniel." Jack put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not seeing anything related to the Goa'uld here. Are you?"

Daniel shut his mouth with a snap, and some of the intellectual
fever cooled in his eyes. Jack was almost sorry for that. "No," he said,
in a more moderate voice. "I haven't seen anything yet."

"Nor have I," Teal'c contributed, coming to join them. "If the
Goa'uld had come here recently, there would be signs. These statues
would be of the System Lords, and the inscriptions would be invoking the power of the gods."

BOOK: Stargate SG-1: Sacrifice Moon
12.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Heather Graham by Dante's Daughter
The Greatest Trade Ever by Gregory Zuckerman
Uncanny Day by Cory Clubb
Watchlist by Jeffery Deaver
Deer Season by Aaron Stander
Play Me Hot by Tracy Wolff
Wolfe Wedding by Joan Hohl
The Graveyard Position by Robert Barnard
White Castle by Orhan Pamuk