Part 22 (1/2)

Sam pushed against the grill, which she'd already loosened with her knife, gripping it tightly so it didn't go clattering to the floor, and placed it inside the vent. Then she wriggled forward, dropping down softly. Teal'c followed, but his boots. .h.i.t the ground with an audible thump and she cringed, looking up the hallway to where the grunts had disappeared around the corner. There was no sound to indicate they were coming back. If her count was right, she and Teal'c had three minutes before they returned.

Not very long for them to find what they were looking for, but it would have to do.

They pressed themselves against the wall, weapons drawn, and followed the curve of the corridor.

”Look for a screen like the one we saw in the lab,” she whispered to Teal'c. ”Hunter says it'll show us the brig.”

After a few moments, they spotted another of the eerie yellow screens, this one emerging from the hull almost as if it had grown there. A quick check left and right, then she dashed forward, bracing her hand against the wall as she studied the screen. Once again she felt that awful sensation, that there was something alive within this s.h.i.+p.

Alive, but still rotting from the inside out.

She studied the screen and there it was - a collection of rooms almost identical to Hunter's improvised map. The brig.

It swarmed with yellow dots.

”One of those must be O'Neill,” said Teal'c, and Sam prayed he was right, but her mind kept returning to the mawing hand that had been thrust against her chest, to the desiccated corpse of the nameless man on whom the Amam had fed.

”It's no use; we'll never make it through those sorts of numbers.”

”Major Carter...”

”I know, Teal'c! I know.”

The seconds ticked down. Somewhere along the corridor, the regular tread of heavy footsteps grew louder. The guards were returning, completing their circuit. Struck by a sudden idea, Sam thought back to the map she and Daniel had seen in the lab, conjuring the image back into her mind. Then she was moving again, down the corridor, a quick gesture to Teal'c telling him to follow.

She knew where they were going now, and it wasn't to the brig.

Teal'c followed Major Carter along the winding lengths of the Amam s.h.i.+p's hallways. They had fled from the approaching footsteps, finding a doorway through which to duck just seconds before the two guards had pa.s.sed within inches.

Now they made their way to an upper level. They'd spoken little for fear of being heard by any Amam who might be close by, but Teal'c did not question the last minute change of plan. He trusted Major Carter and knew her judgment to be sound. Even in the most difficult circ.u.mstances, she never lost focus and was not p.r.o.ne to rash, emotional decisions. She took point now, her stride determined, though her manner watchful, while Teal'c covered their backs.

That was not to say that he was unconcerned, for her grim resolve held its own disquiet. This mission was fraught with danger and it was no exaggeration when Hunter had decried it as suicide. But they had faced worse and lived. And there was no question of them leaving Colonel O'Neill to whatever fate the Amam had in store for him.

The life-signs shown on the schematics panel were further cause for concern. During his watch in the forest, he had seen many of the small alien gliders return to the grounded mothers.h.i.+p and he'd wondered if they'd been on patrol around the planet, or if they'd been engaged in battle with the Goa'uld on a larger scale than the dogfight they'd witnessed near Aedan's camp.

Whatever the reason, it meant that there was now a greater enemy presence on the s.h.i.+p and every level swarmed with Amam. To find O'Neill and escape would present a significant challenge.

Footsteps approached, rapid and uneven. Teal'c glanced around and then pulled Major Carter by the elbow into the shadows of a run-off corridor. The Amam who pa.s.sed them was not a guard. He was of the same slim build as the one whom they had rescued from attack, and who had subsequently summoned the s.h.i.+p that had captured them. But there was a marked difference between the two.

The Amam who had healed Daniel Jackson had carried himself as one who was in control, exhibiting a cold, commanding presence. The creature that approached them now moved in an unbalanced, erratic manner. He was no less menacing for it however. He pa.s.sed by completely oblivious to their presence, more concerned with the object he held in his hands.

Major Carter gave a start, clearly recognizing the object at the same time Teal'c did.

O'Neill's Beretta.

Even in shadow, Teal'c could see the expression on Major Carter's face. She wanted to follow this strange Amam, for he must know something of O'Neill's location, but she held back. This turn of events clearly did not alter her plans.

When the corridor was clear, they set off again, arriving shortly after at an intersection. Teal'c's eyes were immediately drawn to a series of marks on the wall. He grasped Major Carter by the shoulder and gestured towards the scorch marks which were obviously caused by a staff weapon - his staff weapon.

The major nodded. She knew this was the corridor down which they had made their original escape from the s.h.i.+p, the corridor that led to the lab where O'Neill had been captured.

Teal'c thought of the alien ordinance that had been strewn across tables within that lab and remembered how she'd quizzed Hunter the previous night. A grin threatened, the flush of kalach-mek, what the Tau'ri called adrenaline. A battle was due and his blood was burning for the fight. This day, the Amam would know what it was to challenge SG-1.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

Jack slept. Not deeply, not in this place, but he'd been in enough situations where exhaustion had outweighed danger and he'd learned how to find the balance between sleep and vigilance.

His first realization on waking, therefore, took him more than a little by surprise: something was in the cell with him.

There was a faint regular sc.r.a.ping noise, the nature of which he couldn't make out, but he kept his eyes closed, wanting to gauge the situation before letting his guest know he was awake. Maybe he could work this to his advantage.

”Your breathing pattern is different,” said a chilling, familiar voice. ”Why does your kind sleep for so short a time?”

His eyes flashed open. So much for that advantage.

Jack pushed himself up from the floor, wincing as his joints cracked. He might not mind sleeping on hard surfaces in theory, but his body disagreed with him more and more these days. He eased out the kinks and looked around the cell.

The first thing he saw was the door. It was open.

Was this a test?

The low light of the corridor cast the interior of the cell into starker shadows and Jack blinked away residual sleep, trying to gather his bearings and decide whether it was worth making a run for it. Somewhere close by, the regular tread of the guard patrols echoed down the hallways. The sc.r.a.ping sound continued.

”Why?”

It was then that he saw it. Crazy hunkered in the far corner to the left of the doorway, crouched so that its chin was almost on his knees, like a vulture perched on a tree limb. Its fingers flexed in a rhythm, long talons sc.r.a.ping the floor, producing that strange whispering scratch. Jack fought the urge to shudder. ”Why what?” he said.

”Sleep. What purpose does it serve you?”

Jack had no clue how to answer this bizarre question. ”You don't sleep?” he said.

Crazy closed its eyes and, despite the gloom of the cell, Jack thought he could make out some semblance of a smile on the Amam's face. ”Sleeeeeep,” it said, the vowels long and drawn out, as if the very word was something to relish. ”We slept, so long, so long, so long. And when we awoke, we fed.” The thing raised its hand to its mouth and, to Jack's disgust, licked the maw on its palm, as if tasting again the poor b.a.s.t.a.r.ds whose life it had sapped.

Its eyes were still closed, and so, slowly, slowly, Jack edged towards the open doorway. He leaned back, trying to get a look out into the corridor, but couldn't see any guards. This was too easy, but if he didn't take the chance now he might never get out of there.

”You.”

Jack jerked back, away from the doorway, hoping that Crazy hadn't seen what he was doing. But the Amam's reptilian eyes were suddenly fixed on him, alert where seconds ago he had seemed lost inside his own chaotic mind.

”Uh, yeah?” he said, when Crazy seemed content to just stare at him, claws sc.r.a.ping softly on the floor.

”You are different.”

”Yeah. My blood. All ancient and stuff. You said that already.”

”No, you are... unlike. You are apart.”