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Jack woke several hours later with the nagging feeling that something was wrong. He licked his lips, wetting them in an effort to get some moisture into his parched mouth left with the lingering taste of medications and drowsiness. A glance at the table near his bed showed him nothing but an empty water jug so he reached over and pressed the call button and waited, as patiently as he could.
He was still waiting when he drifted back into a restless sleep.
When he woke again he knew with a clear certainty that there was a problem. A look at the clock confirmed that it had been over an hour since he had pushed that button and still no one had come. He lay there, thinking for a moment, then called out a loud “Hello” into the silence.
There was no answer.
In fact, there was no sound at all except the usual hum of the air-conditioning pushing the air around this far underground. No voices out in the main ward, no sounds of footsteps in the corridor – nothing.
At first his mind stayed slightly numb, the after effects of the sedatives his only excuse, and then he came to a decision.
He would have to find out for himself.
Jack twisted his legs slowly towards the side of the bed and took as much of his weight as he could on his hands. He was glad that the nerve damage had mainly affected his legs and that his arms were relatively normal, if just a touch weak. With infinite care he gradually edged forward until his legs were dangling, almost touching the ground. Then he pushed off, straightening his arms.
Damn it! Now that was not good.
He stayed hunched over, gasping, as the agony washed over him. All he really wanted to do was lie back down and forget the whole idea. There was a logical explanation for the disappearance of the infirmary staff. He didn’t need to go anywhere.
He straightened up.
It was difficult to know which was worse, being bent over or being straight. Each was a different movement in the symphony of pain.
Jack looked over to the phone on the wall by the door. It was only a few short feet away. It might as well have been miles. He glared at it, willing it to come closer.
It didn’t.
He’d have to go to it.
With infinite care Jack took his first faltering step in days.
Using the same will and determination that had seen him through many painful times over the long years, Jack slowly made his way across the room.
He leant against the wall, supporting himself as much as possible, and pushed the familiar buttons.
The General’s office.
Nothing.
The Control Room.
Nothing.
Carter’s lab.
There was no answer anywhere. Finally he resorted to the only other number that he could remember off the top of his painfully pounding head.
“NORAD”
Thank God!
“Put me through to General Pritchard. It’s Colonel O’Neill” Jack slowly let himself slide down the wall until he was sitting on the cold floor. Pressing up against the hard wall actually made his back hurt a little less. He gave silent thanks that he was wearing scrubs instead of one of those backless hospital gown things, if he had he would have definitely gotten piles by now, sitting on this floor just like his grandmother use to warn him not to do.
“Colonel O’Neill?”
Jack shook his head in an attempt to clear some of the cobwebs, but he was too slow for the General.
“Colonel O’Neill, just what in God’s name is going on down there? We’ve had no contact with you for hours.”
Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to get his still foggy brain to process the information that the general had just given him. “I don’t know what’s going on, sir. I just woke up in the infirmary and realised that I haven’t seen anyone for hours either.”
“The SGC was sealed off four hours ago, but you’re the first contact that we’ve had since then. I suggest you find out what exactly has happened and get back to me ASAP. Washington is having a heart attack.” There was silence on the line for a few seconds, and then General Pritchard spoke again, a little less brusquely. “Infirmary Colonel? Are you up to this? Should I be sending you some backup?”
Jack thought seriously before he answered the General’s questions. The pain medication was obviously wearing off and his back was one solid mass of hurt. Just walking the few feet to the phone had almost been impossible. Just how much help could he really be in this condition? But then he considered the endless possible scenarios that may have occurred and he knew what his answer had to be.
“No, General, don’t send anyone down until I’ve assessed the situation. I’ll report back in two hours if I haven’t found anything before then. If you don’t hear from me, send a team in and be prepared to go to Wildfire 2.” He tried to inject a little confidence into his voice.
“Alright, Colonel O’Neill. Good luck.”
Jack heard the click as the General hung up the phone. He sat, staring at the receiver in his hand. He had to stand up. That so normal action had become a task of almost insurmountable proportions. He knew what the mechanics of standing up were, but his brain seemed to be refusing to issue the right signals to his limbs. He didn’t blame it – he knew what was going to happen as soon as he tried.
“Crap!” Jack could feel every nerve in his back spasm as he laboriously struggled to his feet. Finally he achieved an unnaturally stiff upright position and walked through the open door into the main infirmary area.
“God help them if they’re just on a long coffee break” He knew that that was one scenario that could be crossed off the list, but he couldn’t help almost wishing that it was the case. The deserted room put paid to that hope. He looked around, but the only helpful thing that he could see was a wheelchair parked in a corner. Much though he hated using them, it was the best solution to the problem of mobility.
Using the empty beds as staging posts, resting against them every few minutes, Jack finally manoeuvred himself into the chair. The pain of bending to sit was outweighed by the relief he felt when he did.
Now to get this show on the road.
With a congratulatory smile, Jack wheeled himself out of the infirmary.
He had already decided on the first order of business. He headed towards the elevator and the armoury, moving as cautiously as he could under the circumstances. The corridors were eerily silent, and it was with a sense of relief that he keyed in the correct access code and armed himself with a zat and a beretta, tucking one on either side of him. A glance at his watch showed him that the time was going much faster than he had anticipated. He turned the chair towards the Control Room and General Hammond’s office.
Jack could feel his pulse starting to speed up as he got nearer to his goal. Rolling down the middle of the corridors, totally exposed to a surprise attack, was taking its toll on his nerves. That, and the tremors that were shaking his body. When he had started out, rolling along in the chair had seemed like an easy alternative to walking. Now his arms were aching with the strain and his back was beginning to protest in no uncertain terms. The one hour deadline was almost up and he had learnt absolutely nothing. There was no sign of anyone.
He rounded the corner on Level 28 and came to a screeching halt.
Stairs.
Crap and double crap.
The old joke cartoon that he had seen years ago showing the Daleks from the British TV program ‘Dr Who’ at the bottom of a flight of stairs, wheels hard against the first step, and the caption “So ends our plans for world domination” took on a whole, totally unfunny meaning. He let his eyes track up the metal staircase, mentally estimating just how many steps there were. He had his answer.
Too damn many. Wasn’t going to happen.
With a sign of exasperation, Jack turned towards his second choice of destination – the Gate Room. If something had come through the gate there could be evidence of it there.
The door at the end of the corridor was shut, the usual guards nowhere in sight. Jack reached up to pull the handle and felt the tightness of his injury tugging at him. This time he was ready for it and he sat motionless for a moment riding out the pain, his eyes closed, before completing the action.
He moved to one side of the doorway and gave the heavy metal door as hard a push as he could, before cautiously looking into the room, ignoring the backlash of pain that the effort caused him.
He hadn’t expected what he saw.
The concentrated smell of human sweat should have warned him, but it didn’t. Staring back at him was a sea of faces. It seemed as if every member of the SGC was packed tightly into the large area around the stargate.
There was one good thing about this – they were all still alive.
Jack scanned the room, taking in the fact that, although no one seemed restrained in any way, they all sat unnaturally still. Most were on the floor, leaning against each other – he could see Carter towards the middle slouched against one of the nurses from the infirmary – but some were standing slumped against the walls. There must have been barely room to breathe, only the ramp was clear. The stargate stood, exposed, the iris open. After an anxious search he located the General, Teal’c, and Daniel each in a different part of the room and each as seemingly unharmed as everyone else.
There was no sign of any reason for their being there. Nothing to stop them from just getting up and walking out.
So why hadn’t they?
Jack stood up carefully and tucking the beretta into the waistband of his trousers, took the zat in his right hand and edged forward. Weapon at the ready, he slid around the door and into the room. It was hard to move without treading on anyone, at one point he was sure that he stood on a hand, but the young airman whose face he looked down at showed no emotion what so ever.
Jack aimed for the nearest familiar face – Daniel. The young man was sitting, loose limbed, not far from the door and actually had some space around him. Jack had almost reached him when, with a shocking suddenness, he tripped over an out stretched leg and found himself on the ground, half on top of several assorted personnel.
The pain that shot from his back seemed to extend from his neck right down to the soles of his feet. He lay, barely able to breathe, moaning softly. He almost didn’t hear the low voice from beside him.
“Colonel?” The touch of a hand made him jump, sending more agony through his already trembling nerves. Ignoring his body’s protests, he twisted and brought the zat up to point in the direction of the voice.
Doctor Fraiser’s face peered up at him, flushed with sweat.
“Doc!” Jack squirmed the short distance towards her. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Janet didn’t answer. To Jack’s horror she looked like she was going back to the same state as all the others.
“Janet!” He reached out his left hand, intending to shake her, but only succeeded in reminding himself that it was SO not a good idea to move right now. The adrenaline that had flooded his system when her hand had touched him had gone now, leaving him weak and shaky. He let himself fall back, groaning as his back connected with the floor, shutting his eyes. Maybe trying to do this alone wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“Colonel. Lie still.” The Doc’s calm voice would have seemed normal if Jack hadn’t seen her dull vacant stare only moments before. He opened his eyes to find her bending over him, an anxious look on her face. “What are you doing out of bed, sir? I’ll call a nurse and we’ll get you settled.”
Jack hesitated. The doctor didn’t seem to be aware that she was anywhere other than the infirmary, but he had to find out what was going on – and quickly.
“Doc, look around. We’re not in the infirmary.” He spoke firmly. “I need to know what happened. Concentrate.” He watched as she raised her head and looked about her, a frown appearing on her brow. “Doctor, what happened? Report.”
Janet snapped her attention back to him and straightened up. This time her voice was clear. “I’m trying to remember, sir. One minute I was sitting in my office writing reports and then suddenly I was here with absolutely no idea how it happened. Most of the personnel were already here, I suppose that’s why I’m so close to the door.” Her eyes widened as she began to remember more details. “There were aliens here, Colonel. One of them grabbed me and …” She shut her eyes, as if in pain.
“Come on, Doc. I need the details. What did they do to you?”
“It was as if I was reliving all the terrible things that have ever happened in my life.” She paused and took a deep breath, her face beginning to become pale. “I felt like they were making me remember and then sucking it all up like they were feeding on me.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It was the most awful thing that I’ve ever felt.”
Jack could see how badly the experience had affected her and would have liked to put his arms around her, but he knew that he couldn’t afford the time to be comforting. “Okay, Doc. Then what happened? Is there anything that you can tell me that might help us fight these creatures?”
Janet’s eyes widened. “Colonel, I remember! They took some people through the gate!” Her hand flew to her mouth. “They took one of my nurses – Tracy Holland. They took her, and about five other people, I couldn’t see clearly. God, sir, what are they going to do with them?”
“I don’t know, Doc, but we’ll have to make sure that they don’t take anyone else. Now – did they have any weapons and exactly how many of them were there? Think. I need as much intel as you can give me.”
Janet was still clearly upset, but she controlled herself again and gave Jack as much information as she could – which wasn’t much. She had only seen three of the enemy, and couldn’t remember seeing any weapons at all. Someone must have had time to seal the base, but who it was she had no idea. When she become aware, everyone else had already been in the zombie like state in which Jack had found her.
“How did you wake me up, sir? Maybe I could try waking some one else.” Janet hadn’t failed to notice that the Colonel was still lying flat on the floor, his fist clenched, knuckles white. She knew that there was nothing that she could do to help him. Perhaps if she woke someone else, Teal’c for example, they would be able to fight the creatures, and the Colonel could stay where he was until it was all over. She knew that it was a forlorn hope – expecting Colonel O’Neill to just lie there while someone else fought the aliens that had taken over the base – it was never going to happen.
“I didn’t wake you, Doc. You woke when I fell.” Jack smiled, “You didn’t think that I was crawling around on the floor on purpose, did you? Now how about you help me up, and we go snap someone else out of it?”
Janet smiled back as she took hold of Jack’s extended arm, “And how are we going to do that?”
“Don’t know. Maybe I could fall on them.” She saw the effort that he was making to hide his discomfort, and winced in sympathy.
They had just started to move forward when the familiar sound of the stargate engaging echoed from behind them.
“Hide Doc!” Jack pushed the woman hard, sending her sprawling amongst a pile of bodies. “Don’t move.” He began to hurry away, trying to put as much distance between them as he could. He knew that there was no time left for him to conceal himself, the wormhole was already established, the water like surface rippling across the circle, so he pressed forward, pushing his way through the tightly packed throng until he was able to find a clear space and turned back to face the gate.
A tall shape seemed to ooze out of the event horizon, closely followed by two more. They were unlike any aliens that Jack had met on any of the planets he had visited. Although they appeared to have a basic human form, their limbs seemed to undulate and change as if in a constant state of flux. It was as if they were made up of black smoke, drifting, forming, and reforming
Two of the aliens began pulling the people nearest to them forward. They had already brought the young airman whose hand Jack had trodden on to his feet and he stood swaying slightly as if in a dream. The third alien was standing still, its chin lifted as if sniffing the air.
With a sense of the inevitable, Jack watched as it turned towards him. He had nowhere to go, and couldn’t have run even if he had been able or wanted to. As the creature came closer, he could only be thankful that Janet had escaped their attention. He hoped that she would be able to make her escape and report to the officers waiting up top.
There was no sound from the alien’s feet – it seemed to glide across the concrete surface of the room, barely slowing to move around the supine people as it made for its obvious goal. There really wasn’t anything that Jack could do, so he waited.
As it came to a halt in front of him, he stepped out, and met it, defiantly. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the spot where Janet lay and was pleased to see that she remained silent. She was their best hope for getting some of the base personnel out of this alive.
Movement brought his attention snapping back to the dark figure before him. Its eyes glowed, not with the white light of the goa’uld, but with an eerie pale red. Jack found his gaze locked into place and try as he might, he was unable to tear it away. The headache that had been an ever present companion since he woke in the infirmary reverberated in his head, adding to the painful throbbing of his back.
There was a cold touch on each side of his head and Jack knew that the creature had done as Janet had described and was holding him in its grip.
Time seemed to slow down.
The cold seeped in, travelling through each part of him - searching.
Then it began.
It leeched and sucked and ate.
It devoured
The pain was incredible
He could feel all his memories being brought to the surface, feel them sitting there, a heavy ponderous mass. Then they began to open, as if pages were being turned in a book. The alien’s eyes glowed brighter as it pulled them in.
Each memory was a living thing, living within Jack’s mind, and they weren’t the good ones – there was nothing pleasant to be found there. They were the truly terrible times, the moments when Jack had thought that nothing could ever be worse. The ebony and crows of his life. A tiny part of him knew that this was why the others sat, silent and unmoving. Their minds had hidden under the assault, locked down. These creatures were nothing less than vampires, feeding on memories rather than on blood.
Images cycled through his mind. That car crash when he was a child, the one that had left his father with injuries that caused him to lose his job. The anger and sadness as he watched his family fall apart. The loneliness when he walked away from home without a backward glance.
The pictures ran quickly, but the emotions seemed to pass with an agonising slowness. The first missions with Special Ops, the things that he had had to do, he was made to relive them all. The impact of flesh falling to earth. The degradation of torture.
He felt himself recoil as Charlie lay dead in his bedroom, then his past years of mistreatment at the hands of the Goa’uld. Daniel’s death. He relived every second of his time with Ba’al, every tiny second.
Then finally, he felt himself screaming in pain. Screaming as each nerve became a burning brand.
He could have sworn that the creature licked its lips.
The touch was withdrawn. The creature stepped back and Jack stood, just as the others stood.
Motionless.
Then, as it began to turn and leave him, he whipped the zat up from where it was concealed at his side and fired.
The creature convulsed, blue light streaming from its hands. Although it remained eerily silent, Jack could tell that it was in agony, but he found it impossible to care. This thing had taken what it wanted, not worrying about anything except its own hunger and now he was glad to be able to give it back some of the pain that it had caused.
It fell.
Jack fell with it.
He followed it down, zat trained on it all the way.
They both collapsed in on themselves, the alien dissipating almost as if it was made up of smoke, Jack into a heap on the ground. But where the alien was gone without trace, Jack was very much alive.
It was as if the remaining creatures were totally unaware of the drama being carried out behind them. They had collected a small group of personnel and were patiently waiting at the bottom of the ramp. He raised his weapon and fired twice more and was very pleased to see the same result – nothing remained.
Jack let the zat fall from his hand and stayed exactly where he was. He couldn’t have moved if he had wanted to, and doing so was the last thing on his mind. He shut his eyes and tried to force the pain to leave him.
It didn’t work. His head felt like it was about to explode and every nerve in his body was on fire. He vaguely heard the sound of people moving around him, the shuffling of feet, indrawn breaths, but he didn’t care. It was all just background noise and he was too busy with his own problems to care.
“Colonel! Sir, are you alright?” The Doc’s voice was right beside him. He could hear the anxiety, but could do nothing to relieve it. At least – not just yet. He was too busy pushing down the agony.
Then, with a suddenness that was frightening, it all went – every last bit of pain. And Jack lay and tried to comprehend exactly what had just happened. He didn’t answer the Doc’s worried questions, because he couldn’t.
He didn’t want to.
There was only one thing that he could tell her, and he won’t say it, because speaking it aloud would make it so.
He wouldn’t tell her.
So he lay, totally unable to move, his legs lifeless beneath him.
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