STARGATE SG-1: Do No Harm (25 page)

Jack looked at him. “You’re fine with us poking our noses round the place while you’re gone?”

Khenti smiled. “Do you intend to harm the people of Mennufer?”

“No.”

“Then why should we not leave you to learn of us?”

Daniel cleared his throat. “Your trust is appreciated, Elder Khenti. We won’t do anything to make you regret it, we promise.”

“If friends cannot trust one another, they are not friends at all,” said Khenti. Then he frowned. “But I would ask this of you as you move among the people. Speak not to them of the
chappa’ai
. When the people question, say you are from beyond the divide. That they will understand and feel no alarm to hear.”

Jack considered him. “You want me to lie to your people, Khenti?”

Khenti’s smile this time was wry. World-weary. “As an Elder, Jack, do you tell the truth before the truth is safe to be told? Do you tell the truth when telling the truth will do more harm than good?”

“No, Khenti,” Jack said, eventually. “I don’t.”

“Then as senior Elder of this village, the caretaker of its people, I ask that you do not tell the truth until I say it is safely told.”

“And if I can’t do that?”

Khenti spread his gnarled hands wide. “Then Mennufer is not the village you seek. Beyond our valley there are other villages. Their Elders might welcome you. I cannot say.”

Daniel bit at his lip. If he opened his mouth now Jack would slay him. This was a command decision.

“Okay,” said Jack, nodding. “As you say, it’s your village. We won’t mention the
chappa’ai
… for now.”

“Our thanks to you,” said Khenti. With a gracious bow he and his fellow Elders withdrew.

“So?” said Jack, when the coast was clear. “How did I do?”

Daniel shook his head. “You did fine. You did great. That gesture with your weapons? Diplomatic genius. Who are you, and what have you done with Jack O’Neill?” Then he shook his head. “Although…”

“There’s a but?” said Jack, rolling his eyes. “God. There’s always a
but
with you.”

“I’m not sure it was wise, challenging Khenti’s authority like that.”

Sam looked around as she unloaded her own weaponry onto the floor. “You don’t trust Elder Khenti, sir?”

“I don’t
dis
trust him,” said Jack, shrugging out of his pack and leaning it against the nearest wall. “I just think it’s kind of odd he was so comfortable asking someone he’d known for five minutes to lie for him.”

Sam took off her own pack and stowed it. “I don’t know, sir. Maybe it’s not so odd in context. I mean, they’re just as comfortable leaving us to our own devices, unsupervised. Okay, it’s not the way we do things but that doesn’t mean he’s hinky. Does it?”

Daniel grinned. If they gave out Air Force medals for logic she’d have a cabinet full by now. “Sam’s right, it doesn’t. And we can’t make value judgments based on our codes of acceptable behavior. Not this early in the relationship, anyway.”

That earned him a vintage O’Neill look. “Yes we can, Daniel. We do it all the time.”

True. “Well, maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe for once we should just wait and see.”

Jack stooped to retrieve his hardware from the floor. “We don’t have the luxury.”

“Not in a hostile situation, no. But these people aren’t hostile and this isn’t an offensive mission. We’re here to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly — ”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll boldly knock you on your ass,” said Jack. “Daniel, just because we can’t see the bad guys doesn’t mean there aren’t any bad guys to be seen. And if you haven’t figured that out after three years in the field then you need to see a career guidance counselor.”

Okay, so this conversation was rapidly running off the rails. “All I’m saying, Jack, is that Khenti is these people’s leader. It’s his responsibility to keep them safe. I don’t think asking us to withhold potentially disruptive information is — is — a capital crime!”

Jack, being Jack, wasn’t giving an inch. “Except he’s not doing that. He’s asking us to flat out lie.”

“You think it means he’s a liar himself?” asked Dixon, who’d divested himself of his gear and was observing the discussion intently.

“I think it means he’s a politician,” said Jack. “So… yeah. It’s one explanation.” He swept them all with his coldest, no-nonsense stare. “Which means we’re going to have to watch our step. All of us. Because this is too damned important to blow by being careless.”

Daniel felt a little of his euphoria fade in the wake of Jack’s stark warning.

But he’s right. He’s right. If we aren’t careful, if we blow this, the whole SGC could pay the price
.

Sam nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Khenti is certainly no fool,” said Teal’c. “Indeed, for the leader of such a small, primitive village he appears most… sophisticated.”

“I don’t know about primitive,” said Dixon. “Rustic. Simple. But living a simple lifestyle doesn’t make these people stupid. That’s like calling hillbillies stupid because they live in the mountains.”

“And look how that turned out for the tourists in ‘Deliverance’,” said Sam, smiling just a little bit.

“Yeah, thanks for that reminder, Carter,” said Jack. “I’m telling you right now, the first person I hear humming ‘Duelling Banjos’ is going down. Hard.”

Dixon swallowed a snort of amusement. “So. What do we reckon this rebirthing thing is?”

Jack shifted his gaze. “Daniel?”

“Not sure yet,” he said, shrugging. “But if I had to guess I’d say something to do with the natural world. Spring, most likely. I don’t know if you guys were paying attention, but the vegetation in this area’s a mix of evergreen and deciduous and it looked to me like the deciduous trees were budding. Same with a lot of the native flora.”

“So spring it is,” said Jack. “Not that it makes any difference to us.”

Daniel sighed. “If it’s spring I’m going to sneeze a lot, probably.”

“Oh, joy,” said Jack, supremely sarcastic. “I hope you brought
Kleenex. Or
lots
of antihistamine.”

“This rite of rebirthing,” said Sam. “Daniel, is there an ancient Egyptian equivalent?”

“Not one that leaps immediately to mind,” he said, rummaging through his mental filing cabinet. “I mean, there was a New Year festival but I don’t think that fits. Most of ancient Egypt’s rites were connected to one of their gods, like the honoring of Amun. That was to do with plenty, with renewal. So was the festival of Min, he was a fertility god, but — ”

“But no festivals specific to Ra or Setesh?” said Jack, impatient.

He shook his head. “No. Don’t think so, at least not — ”

“Okay. So scratch that.”

“Perhaps it is some kind of village fertility rite,” suggested Teal’c. “Invented by the people of Mennufer for their particular needs.”

“Yeah, well, whatever,” said Jack. “They can be dancing the hokey-pokey for all I care, provided I don’t have to join in. Daniel — ”

He looked up from sorting through his pack. “Jack?”

“Leave the camera behind.”

“What?” He stared. “Why? No, Jack, I need the camera. What if we come across something amazing, something I need to show Hammond or one of the Washington suits?”

“Then we’ll ask the locals to stage an instant replay,” said Jack. “Listen, our presence is going to be disruptive enough. Let’s not push our luck by shoving a camera in their faces before they’ve had a chance to figure out we’re no danger to them.”

Damn. That was just wrong, Jack being right about matters anthropological.
I’m letting my enthusiasm get the better of me. Again
.
So much for my New Year’s resolution
. “Okay,” he sighed. “No camera this time. But from tomorrow I’ll be filming, Jack. That’s non-negotiable. I need to document these people.”

“Yeah, well, tomorrow’s another day,” said Jack, then turned as the summoning gong sounded in the village. “And there’s our cue. We all set? Gear stacked? Weapons off?”

It was and they were… except Teal’c still hadn’t relinquished
his sidearm and knife.

“Hey,” said Jack, remarkably patient. “Come on, Teal’c. You know the drill. I don’t like the idea of wandering around here unarmed any more than you do, but we don’t have a choice. Not if we want to prove to these folks we can be trusted to set up shop in their backyard. Comfortable or not, it’s time for a leap of faith.”

Teal’c frowned. “Even though you do not trust Elder Khenti?”

“You know me, Teal’c,” said Jack, pulling a face. “Suspicious is my default setting. But for now we have to give them the benefit of the doubt.”

“I’m sorry,” said Daniel, staring. “But isn’t that my script you’re reading from?”

“You know what they say. Steal from the best,” said Jack,
with a shrug. “Teal’c, just — bite the bullet, would you? Because
the sooner we get out there and start making friends, the sooner I can give Hammond some good news and we can hand Adjo over to someone else and get back to kicking some snakehead butt.”

Teal’c’s reluctance was eloquent and uncomfortable to witness. At last he nodded, and removed the weapons.

“Thank you,” Jack said quietly, as though they were alone. “Now let’s go make nice with the locals.”

No two ways about it, Dixon decided. Being the team’s fifth wheel sucked big time. As they headed back down the path from the Elders’ retreat, O’Neill and Jackson took the lead with Carter and Teal’c behind. The path wasn’t wide enough for three abreast, so he brought up the rear.

He had the feeling that on this mission, the rear would be
his
default setting.

The retreat’s narrow pathway led them back down to the village proper, where the people of Mennufer abandoned their weaving and cooking and mud-brick making and animal husbandry to stare and point and whisper. The children hid behind their mothers’ skirts, eyes wide and wondering.

Dixon scooted up and fell into step beside Carter. “So, what do you think so far?”

She blew out a resigned breath. “I think I should’ve dyed my hair before I came. Or maybe put a bag over my head,” she muttered. “Y’know, I really hate the ‘sideshow freak’ part of this business.”

Her short blond hair was visible even though she’d put on her military issue cap, and it was certainly exciting a lot of interest.

“Don’t worry, Sam,” said Jackson over his shoulder. “The novelty will wear off eventually.”

“Great,” she retorted. “I’m a novelty. Just what I always wanted.”

Dixon grinned at her. “It could be worse, Major. At least this lot don’t want to kill you.”

“The Shavedai?” she said, glancing at him. Her expression was derisive. “Oh yeah. They were special.”

“Hey, Moughal was okay,” Jackson protested. “At least he tried to change things.”

“Yeah. He did,” she agreed. “And then five minutes after he died it all went back to the way it was.” Sorrow shadowed her face. “In the end nothing I said or did made a difference. Those women are still trapped. Still traded like livestock. And they probably will be until their society disappears.”

“You don’t know that,” said Dixon, regretting he’d mentioned it all. “Some revolutions just take a little longer to get going, that’s all.”

“We’ve still got women on the visiting teams,” added O’Neill.
“Hammond’s stood up to them on that front. They’ll get there, Carter. Suffrage wasn’t built in a day.”

She sighed. “I guess. I’m just disappointed Abu didn’t turn out to be as strong and principled as his father.”

“He was never strong and principled,” said O’Neill. “He was a conniving little weasel from the get-go and that hasn’t changed.”

More than two years later, and O’Neill’s rancor remained. Dixon couldn’t blame him. If someone had kidnapped one of his team and sold them into slavery he wouldn’t be too thrilled either. Especially when the team member in question was a woman and slavery meant the certainty of rape.

And that does make a difference. The femi
nists mightn’t like it, but it is what it is
.

He wondered briefly whether having a woman on the team gave O’Neill any qualms. Fair or not, women were vulnerable in ways men weren’t.

It’d give me qualms… but I don’t think I’ll mention it.

They’d reached the center of the village, which was marked by a small square of goat-nibbled grass. Three goats were tethered on it now, lawn-mowers on legs. Like the Pied Piper, SG-1 had attracted a following, some forty or so villagers bolder than the rest who hung back, still pointing and whispering but clearly eager to make contact.

“Okay,” said Jackson, as they stopped and regrouped. “I think
we should split up. Spread out. Get these people used to the idea there’s a whole new world out there waiting for them.”

“All right,” said O’Neill. “But watch your step, campers. Play it safe, play it simple.” He glanced at the sun, then at his watch. “Two hours, then we meet back at the retreat to compare first impressions.” He looked at Teal’c. “You need a cover story in case anyone else asks about your forehead. It’s a birthmark. That should be easy enough to sell.”

“Indeed,” said Teal’c.

Jackson was frowning. “Speaking of physical imperfections — no offence, Teal’c — how nosy do you want us to be? Should we be asking about the causes of these people’s scarring and other problems?”

O’Neill didn’t answer for a moment. Then he shook his head. “Not unless you come across someone who’s sick right now, which means we could be at risk. Then we can get a bit pointed. Otherwise, don’t mention it. It’s not like we’re doctors. Fraiser and her team can do a medical follow-up later.”