Eros 2

Dubitatio (Part 1/2)

by Eideann

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/ase/eideann/eros021.php
Summary: This is an exploration of possible causes of the events leading up to, at the time of and beyond SG-1's enslavement by the government of P3R-118
Info: Plenty of Daniel-whumpage. Issues include what became of the workers after they were rescued by SG-1, reasons for Kegan's extraordinary overprotectiveness of Daniel, and a Sam-friendly explanation for the apparent romantic relationship that existed between her and Jack on 118. This story is both an AU and a tag/missing scene for Beneath the Surface, but it could have happened in canon.

Chapter One

Daniel's blue eyes snapped with anger. "We've had this conversation eight times already, Jack, I don't know what good it will do to rehash it again."

"I just ..." Jack hesitated. "I want you to understand why I did what I did."

"I know why you did what you did, Jack," Daniel said. His shoulders were tense, and he had his arms wrapped around his torso. It looked like he had his arms crossed, but this was the self-hugging Daniel. Jack would recognize him anywhere. "I disagreed at the time, and I disagree now, but we came up with another solution and everything's fine now." He shook his head. "Can't we just let it go at that?"

Jack stared at him, wishing he knew how to make things right. Daniel had been pretty cold ever since Jack had made the decision to blow up the Gadmere ship. Even Carter was getting the silent treatment, though Daniel was starting to thaw in her direction. Jack on the other hand ...

None of his team seemed particularly thrilled with him. Teal'c and Carter at least put a polite, professional face on it, but Daniel was simply ... not there. He was bland. He did his job. He spoke to Jack when it was necessary, but other than that, they might as well not be in the same room. Even now, when he stood in the living room of Daniel's apartment, it felt like they were miles apart.

"I can, but I don't think you can," Jack said. "Because everything isn't fine now, and you know it."

Daniel grimaced and shook his head. "What do you want from me, Jack?"

"I want us to get past this, because it's putting stress on our working relationship, not to mention our friendship."

Daniel looked down at the floor, and he relaxed his arms to hang at his sides. Jack could tell that he was trying to open himself up, and that it was taking an effort. He remained silent, to give Daniel the time he seemed to need to come out of his shell a little. Finally, Daniel looked up. "I'm working on it, Jack. It's just ... I can't imagine ..." He shook his head. "I don't want to say the things I'm thinking because they're not fair, and I know they're not fair."

"Daniel!" Jack exclaimed. "Please don't shut me out."

"Jack, you're pushing too hard!" Daniel replied, taking a step forward. "I don't think you get it. You're not giving me any space to breathe or think about my reactions. I can't just ..." He grimaced as if looking for the right word. "I can't just shake it off and move on. I need to deal with it in my own way, which doesn't include listening to you dissect every decision you made on a daily basis. When did you become Mr. Sensitive, let's talk about our problems?!"

"I am not Mr. Sensitive," Jack protested.

"You are! You're turning into some kind of Alan Alda clone, so stop it!"

Jack's jaw dropped and he stared in utter shock at Daniel. "I am not!"

"Are so," Daniel rallied.

"Am not!"

"Are so!"

"Am not! Daniel, I don't understand." Jack shook his head, resisting the impulse to get up and start pacing. "You've always been the one who thought that talk was the answer to most things."

Daniel crossed his arms again. "You're right, Jack, you don't understand."

When it became clear that Daniel wasn't going to say anything else in the foreseeable future, Jack took a deep breath. "Well, then help me understand," he said softly.

Daniel gazed intently at him for several seconds. "Fine," he said finally, "but I don't want to go over this conversation repeatedly either." Jack shook his head earnestly, and Daniel nodded once. "Okay, how many days have we been back from the Enkaran mission?"

Jack did a bit of mental calculation. "Nine."

"And when was the first time you wanted to 'talk about things'?"

Jack blinked and then cleared his throat. "The next day, I guess," he said. "I went into your office and --"

"Right," Daniel said, cutting him off. "I remember. And we've talked about it daily since then." He uncrossed his arms and stuck his hands firmly in his pockets, as if telling them to stay there. "Oddly enough, I thought maybe I could avoid it today, since I didn't go to the mountain, but that was clearly a forlorn hope."

"Okay, so I've wanted to get things settled, is that a crime?"

"Jack!" Daniel shook his head and lifted a hand, gesturing to emphasize his words. "A year ago, if we'd had some kind of a disagreement, something like this, where lives were at stake and we were on opposite sides of the issue, what would you have done?" Jack knit his brows. "Come on, Jack, what would your instinct have been?"

Jack grimaced. "I don't know, Daniel," he said. "I've slept since then." Daniel's expression grew even more forbidding. Humor wasn't going to win him any prizes this time. "Okay, Daniel, let's not play twenty questions, here. Make your point."

Daniel glowered, but shrugged resignedly. "You usually ignored my bad mood until it went away. You certainly didn't beard me in my office the first chance you got."

Jack stared at Daniel for several seconds, considering this. He put his hands on his hips, and shook his head. "So, let me see if I've got this right. You're actually telling me that if I notice that you're upset with me about something, the best thing I could possibly do is ignore it? Act like nothing's wrong until you get over it or don't?"

"That's not quite what I said," Daniel protested. "I --"

"No, it's exactly what you said." Jack crossed his arms. "If that's not what you meant, then what did you mean?"

Daniel took several deep breaths, and Jack wondered what language he was counting to ten in. "I need a little time to adjust my thinking."

"Adjust your thinking?" Jack repeated.

"Yes, Jack." He rolled his eyes. "Let's try this from a different angle. Recent issues aside, we're very close, wouldn't you say?"

Jack nodded pensively, not mentioning that he'd like them to be closer. Daniel knew that, they'd talked about it, and they really didn't need to hash that over again.

"Well, when you're that close with someone, you tend to assume that they feel the same way you do on most important subjects." Jack nodded, his brows knitting. He wasn't sure he understood where this was going. Daniel sighed. "Every so often you remind me that there are some places where we differ greatly, and it takes me a little while to wrap my mind around it."

"Where did we differ here?" Jack demanded.

"You didn't see the Gadmere as anything but a threat to the Enkarans. You wouldn't see them as anything else, no matter what I said to try and broaden your thinking."

"Daniel, I did want another solution, I asked for one --"

"And when I went looking for one, you got mad at me!"

"Because you went on board a ship that I was preparing to blow up!" Jack exclaimed. "I think that's the biggest thing we disagree on, when it's appropriate for you to risk your neck."

"What we do is risky, Jack, and you can't ask me to ignore what I believe in because it would make me safer."

They were both silent for several minutes. Jack couldn't argue with that, not rationally. Thinking about their conversation, though, he found one thing that puzzled him. "So ..." Jack shook his head. "I don't quite grasp what you were angry at me about in the first place."

"I wasn't angry," Daniel said. "I was disturbed."

"You seemed pretty angry to me."

"That's because you were pushing me. I didn't want to talk about it but you insisted that I had to air my grievances, and then it seemed like all you really wanted to do was explain your reasoning to me. You didn't really seem all that interested in what I had to say."

"Daniel, I --"

"You were trying to justify yourself, and I didn't need you to. I wasn't mad at you. The problem was mine."

"I can't believe you weren't at least a little pissed." Daniel shook his head. "I tried to kill you!" Jack expostulated.

"No, you didn't!" Daniel replied.

"You can ask Teal'c, I --"

"Jack, if you'd set out with the intention of killing me, it would be different. You were just doing what you believed was right."

Jack stared at Daniel in consternation. "So the one thing you're not the least bit disturbed by or angry about is the fact that I knowingly gave an order that would have resulted in your death if things had gone the way I expected them to." Daniel shrugged. "Sometimes I just don't get you," Jack said.

"I am who I am, Jack," Daniel replied, shrugging again.

"I know, and I love you," Jack said without thinking. Daniel's eyebrows rose, and Jack realized what he'd said. "I'm sorry, I didn't -- I wasn't trying -- it just slipped out."

"It's okay, Jack," Daniel said. "It's not like it's a bad thing, per se."

"Yes, but I promised myself ... I don't want to be too pushy ... or like I want you to feel guilty ... it's not like you asked for ... wanted ... not like you have any responsibility or anything ... I mean --"

"You're babbling," Daniel observed. "You've got to watch that."

"It's your fault," Jack growled. "If you weren't so --"

"None of that, now!" Daniel exclaimed. "If I hear another word about how my hair looks like nutmeg ..."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Who said that?" he demanded because he knew he hadn't. "Has someone been hitting on you?" Daniel flushed and shrugged. Jack's brows drew together. If it was something Daniel didn't want to admit to ... why wouldn't Daniel want to admit to it? "Daniel?" he asked.

Daniel let out an explosive sigh. "Yes! Okay? Yes, someone has been hitting on me."

"Who?" The lieutenant in records had a soft spot for Daniel, he knew, and Captain Harris on SG-9 was always giving him encouraging looks. Both women were very nice, reasonably attractive. He could see Daniel flirting with either of them, but he didn't have to like it.

"His name is Jim," Daniel said, and Jack's shoulders stiffened. His? A man was hitting on Daniel? What man? "He lives somewhere around here, I think," Daniel continued. "He shops at the same grocery store I do, at any rate."

"Who is this guy?" Jack asked. "Why is he making comments about your hair?"

Daniel blinked at him owlishly, clearly taken aback. "He's a lawyer. We've played chess at that café on the corner a few times, and he asked me out for dinner a couple weeks ago."

"You went to dinner with him?" Jack stared in utter astonishment. "Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"Jack --" Daniel started in a reasonable tone, but Jack wasn't in the mood to be reasonable.

"He could have been Jeffrey Daumer! He could have taken you off somewhere and --"

"Jack, we met at a restaurant downtown," Daniel said irritably. "He didn't drive me, I didn't drive him, and --"

"You went out to dinner with him?" Jack said. He knew he sounded pathetic, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

"Yes, Jack, we had Thai food," Daniel replied, clearly trying to keep this conversation completely matter of fact. "He was very impressed that I could speak to the waiter in his native language, which by the way, was Portuguese, oddly enough."

One of the things that had told Jack early on how he felt about Sara was his reactions to her talking about other men. Here were those reactions all over again. "You went on a date?"

"It wasn't a date!" Daniel protested.

"Well, then what was it?" Jack asked.

Daniel looked uncomfortable. "Okay, I guess he thought it was a date, but I thought it was just two guys having dinner. It happens, you know?"

"Two comparative strangers, a nice restaurant ... did it involve dressing up?"

Daniel glared at him. "You'll have to forgive me for not assuming that everyone who wants to eat with me finds me attractive in a sexual way."

"Did he say that?"

"Jack!" Daniel looked deeply embarrassed.

"Did he get pushy?" Jack asked urgently. "Did he push you? Did he do anything?"

"He was a perfect gentleman," Daniel said. "He just started telling me what he thought of me during dinner. That was when the hair thing came up, among other things."

"What other things?"

"Jack, I don't know why you're so jealous. I'm not remotely interested in him. He's just a fun person to play chess with, and he enjoys talking about archeology."

"I'll just bet he does!"

Daniel's eyes snapped with blue fire. "Jack, you're treading on thin ice here. He made a pass at me. I declined. He expressed disappointment, then we started talking about foreign policy. Yes, the rest of dinner was stilted, and yes, he seemed a little tentative the next time I saw him at the café, but since then everything's been normal. We're still friends."

"Sure you are!" Jack growled. "He's probably just hoping that you'll change your mind and --" Daniel's eyebrows were rising towards his hairline, and Jack broke off with a grimace. "Bad parallel, there, I guess," he said.

"Just a little," Daniel replied.

"Hey, I was friends with you long before I started --"

Daniel held up a hand, eyes wide with alarm. "Don't finish that sentence, please."

Jack grimaced. "Sorry." Daniel shrugged, then sighed. "So, you're friends?" Jack asked, and a new thread of jealousy started. "Good friends?" All he had was his friendship with Daniel ... was that --

"Not as good friends as with you," Daniel said hastily. "When did you get so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure." Daniel just looked at him, and Jack crumpled. "Probably at about the time you decided I hated you and wanted to leave SG-1."

"Oh." Daniel looked away. Jack didn't know what else to say. He'd come over here to ask Daniel how to make things up, and things had gotten kind of out of hand. "So," Daniel said, "you want to go see a movie?"

Jack nodded. Anything to get out of this conversation. "Austin Powers is playing," he suggested.

"Let me grab my jacket."

Chapter Two

When Daniel got in to work the morning after his outing with Jack -- he absolutely refused to call it a date, despite Jack's jokes -- both his inboxes were full to overflowing. Daniel sat down glumly and looked at the stacks of files. No doubt half of them at least were in the wrong place. He never could get Captain Tolliver to direct the files correctly, and the folks that brought them in often just dumped the whole stack on his desk to distribute. That tended to cause confusion when Daniel was off planet and no one knew where a file was.

He sorted through the stacks, finding several that were specifically directed to Robert Rothman. Since Robert was still on leave, visiting his brother in Pennsylvania and recuperating from having a Goa'uld in his head, Daniel wasn't sure why anyone would be addressing files to him, but then he'd never had much success in figuring Tolliver's system out. The few attempts he'd made to straighten things out had always seemed to get turned around into a big fuss that somehow managed to be his fault.

After some effort, and a couple of phone calls, he figured out where all the files were supposed to wind up and delivered them to the appropriate offices.

At the bottom of the stack he found a pithy little note from Tolliver that complained of missing files and late work. Daniel crumpled it up and filed it where it belonged, under 'T' for trash. Last time he'd checked, Tolliver wasn't his supervisor.

Once all the piles were disseminated, he set to work on his own translations. There were a few that were urgent and top secret, so he started on those first. The day passed swiftly. Jack came just after noon to drag him off to lunch, and then, the next thing Daniel knew, he looked up to rub a crick out of his neck and it was eight-thirty.

He stood up and stretched till he felt three vertebrae pop. His computer had the little icon that told him he had e-mail that he hadn't seen yet, so he sat down and took a look. Among various professional communications there was one e-mail from Jack, sent at six-forty-five. There was no message, but the subject line read, "Go home, you workaholic."

Chuckling, Daniel shut down his machine, turned off his lamps and went to the locker room. By the time he finally signed out, it was nearly nine o'clock, and he sighed. Jack was bound to check in the morning. When Jack got onto one of these 'Daniel works too hard' kicks, he started noting every little detail of Daniel's work habits, and bugging him about them. He did it to Sam, too, sometimes.

Daniel got into his car and drove home. It was a beautiful evening, just enough snow had fallen to frost the world with glittering white trimmings, and the moon was full, casting silvery light over the landscape.

The light was blinking on his answering machine when he got to his apartment, so he pressed the button and went into the kitchen to heat up some soup for dinner.

The first message was from a credit card company, with some 'free' offer that he had a limited time to take advantage of. The second was Barnes & Noble letting him know that the books he had ordered were in. He'd have to head over there tomorrow after work. The machine beeped again, and Jim's voice came on.

"Hey, Daniel, I enjoyed our dinner the other night. How about we do it again, Mexican this time. I've got a couple of nights free next week. Let me know." He gave his number and then hung up. Daniel pursed his lips. What would Jack say if he knew? Not that it mattered, Daniel could make up his own mind, but Jack's reaction had been pretty intense.

The beep sounded again, and now Jack's voice came out of the machine, startling Daniel. Any half-formed notions that Jack had somehow magically picked up on Jim's phone call were quickly put to rest, though. "So, Daniel, I hope you're home before ten. I know better than to hope for before nine. Go to bed. We're going to have a mission later this week, so you need to rest up."

Daniel snorted. That was Jack, always pushing something. Pulling the bowl of soup out of the microwave, Daniel went out into the living room and sat down. He turned the TV on and ate while he watched an episode of Law & Order.

What was he going to do about Jack? This wasn't the first time Daniel had been hit on by a guy, and it probably wouldn't be the last. He wasn't sure if he just projected ambiguity or what, but he got more come-ons from guys than girls. He wondered if Jack had been jealous of Sara like this, but it wasn't like he could ask. The image of that was unfunny to say the least. He couldn't begin to guess how she'd react to the idea that Jack had fallen in love with a guy.

In love. Daniel was still having troubles with that idea, despite his determination to accept that if Jack said it was true, then it followed that it was true. There wasn't any reason to doubt it, really. Jack had nothing to gain and a hell of a lot to lose by the declaration. Nevertheless, it left Daniel feeling very puzzled.

The phone rang and he picked it up, expecting it to be Jack, checking to make sure he got home. Instead, Sam responded to his greeting. She got straight to the point after apologizing for calling so late. "Do you know what's up with the colonel?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"He's called here three times to find out if I've gone home yet. Is he bugging you?"

Daniel smiled. "Oh yeah, but I've managed to avoid direct contact. He's just leaving me messages."

"Oh, well, I'm glad it's not just me."

"Why are you still there at ten-thirty?" he asked.

"Don't you start," she said with feeling.

"I'm just curious, Sam. What are you working on?"

The explanation that followed was very detailed and utterly fascinating, but Daniel found that it went in one ear and out the other. He got that it was about quantum mechanics, naquadah and some kind of magnetism, but beyond that he was lost.

"Are you going to be able to go home soon?"

"Probably in the next hour or so, but I may just find a bed in the barracks."

"Well, be warned, he's probably using up the memory in your answering machine." There was a call waiting beep on his line. "I bet that's him. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay. See if you can mollify him somehow."

Daniel choked. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Sam was silent for a second. "What do you mean, 'what do I mean?'"

"I mean what do you mean?" She didn't know. She couldn't know. And if she did know, she couldn't be suggesting ...

"I don't know!" she said, sounding exasperated. "Try to convince him that if he keeps calling me, I'll never get to bed."

"I don't -- I mean -- I think --" Daniel realized that he was so incoherent that he hadn't even reached the level of babbling and took a deep breath. "Sure, Sam, I'll try," he said. Clearly she didn't know, and he just sounded like an idiot.

"Are you okay, Daniel?" she asked, the concern in her voice telling him that he was right.

"I'm fine," he said brightly. The phone beeped again, insistently.

She paused, then said, "Are you alone?"

He choked again, and coughed. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I hear someone talking in the background, and you just seem ... I don't know ... odd somehow. Is something wrong?"

"Nope. Everything is just fine. I've got the TV on."

"Okay ..." she said dubiously. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow." He hung up the phone and almost as soon as it hit the hook, it rang, making him jump. He picked it up, feeling like a moron. "Hello?"

"Daniel, you are home," Jack said energetically. "At least one of you has some sense."

"Hi, Jack, how are you," Daniel said ironically.

"I'm fine, but Carter's still on base messing about with naquadah or something. What did I do to get saddled with all the overachievers?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "I'm sure there are at least one or two overachievers on other teams," he said.

"There is only one Daniel Jackson and only one Sam Carter, and nobody exceeds either of you on that score. I have it on the authority of the other team leaders, no one even equals either one of you."

"And how many of those guys would disagree with you?" Daniel asked innocently. "Being your subordinates in a military hierarchy, and all."

"Why would they disagree?" Jack asked, sounding honestly puzzled.

"If they didn't think it was true," Daniel said.

"Daniel!" Jack exclaimed. "They think it's true."

"Well, I'm home, and Law & Order is almost over. Is there anything else? What's this about a mission?"

"I don't actually know anything yet. Hammond told me he'd rostered something just before I left. I think the briefing is on Wednesday. P3R-something."

Daniel let out an irritable sigh. "P3R-something," Daniel repeated. "Very informative. I'll see you in the morning, Jack."

"Good night, Daniel," Jack said.

Chapter Three

Carter and Daniel were excited. P3R-118 was evidently a technologically and culturally advanced civilization that was surviving an ice age through sheer force of will. Jack thought it sounded like a typically boring science mission, but he didn't say anything. Daniel's eyes were shining, and Jack didn't want to put a damper on his enthusiasm.

Instead, he listened intently and tried earnestly not to think about kneeling over a naked Daniel lying on his back on this table, his eyes filled with the light of ardor, his hands ...

Jack forced his thoughts back to the meeting. "We need an evaluation of just how much more advanced their technology is over ours," Hammond was saying. "We need to know what they have to offer, and what we can offer in return."

"Right," Carter said with a grin.

Hammond turned to Jack. "I'll also need an idea of their military capabilities and the use to which they put them. We don't want another Euronda."

"Definitely not," Jack said.

"I think that about wraps it up," Hammond said.

"When do we leave?" Daniel asked.

"I've got you scheduled for Friday at 1400 hours. Are there any other questions?" No one spoke. "Very well, dismissed."

Nodding at them, Hammond rose and left the room. Jack looked around at the others, gathering up stuff, getting ready to go. "So, how's about a team dinner tonight?" he asked. "We haven't had one of those in at least a ..." He paused thoughtfully.

"At least a week, I think, Jack," Daniel said with a touch of amusement in his tone. "I have no objections."

"Sounds good," Carter said.

"I will be there with bells on, O'Neill," Teal'c said, and Jack looked at him, his brows knit at the unexpected turn of phrase. Teal'c blinked and turned to Daniel. "Is that not what that expression means, DanielJackson?"

Daniel snorted and put a hand on Teal'c's shoulder, turning him and guiding him out of the room. "Yes, it does, Teal'c, but I've told you about using figures of speech around Jack."

Jack scowled. Carter looked up at him, her eyes innocently wide but dancing with amusement. "I'll see you later, sir," she said as she left the briefing room.

He walked up to the window. A team was preparing for departure. SG-10 on their way to see new things on a new world. Sumner was checking each one of his team to make sure they were ready to go. Hammond walked out onto the floor and had a brief conversation with Sumner, then nodded to Harriman in the control room. The gate started spinning and the chevrons engaged, then the vortex of brilliant blue energy surged out, like a rush of water, then settled back into a shimmering circle. Even now, after five years of knowing what it could do, Jack was still occasionally awed by the power and apparent simplicity of it.

Some of the top scientists in the nation had worked on the various projects that had been attempted to get the gate to work. They'd even opened the gate once in the forties -- once -- but the unfortunate results of that effort had closed down that experiment. It had taken Daniel to put it all together into a real program. His insight, his ability to put two and two together and come up with five, his talent for persuading people to do what he thought they should do ...

Even Carter had been mistaken about key facts regarding the gate. She, and all the other scientists, had been utterly convinced that the gate only went to Abydos. It didn't make sense at the time, why would anyone set up a gate between Earth and that God forsaken planet? Neither one was paradise, and they knew for fact now that there were other sources for naquadah.

No, Daniel was the motivating force behind this whole program, the conscience of the SGC. The last time Jack had ignored that, it had cost him dearly. Daniel. All his thoughts lately reverted to Daniel.

Brilliant, bold, beautiful, brainier than any three men put together, bewitching ... Jack sighed. When exactly had he fallen in love with Daniel? He knew when he'd realized it, on Edora, while he was trapped on the other side of a buried stargate, but it had been the recognition of an emotion, not the beginning of one.

It was impossible to trace the start. He'd tried more than once, on Edora and after his return to Earth. Back to the beginning, he'd thought Daniel was an irritating geek, one who promised bigger than he could deliver. Later, Daniel saved his life at the cost of his own. Neither of them knew at the time that Ra could bring him back, so it had been considerably more than a gesture. It had been a declaration that life was so important to that man that he'd risk his own to save it.

Since at the time he'd been bent on suicide, it had made something of an impression on him. Leaving him behind had been a wrench, but he couldn't deny the shining happiness in his eyes.

Then he'd returned to Abydos to fetch him home again at General Hammond's request. Upon seeing him again, Jack hadn't known what to do with his feelings, so he'd wound up snubbing him. Maybe it was back that far. Maybe it dated back even farther, to when he left him behind. Jack didn't know.

What he did know was that Daniel was now the focus around which his life revolved.

Time was passing, and a nagging voice told him he had reports to review, idiots to discipline, and he really should stop daydreaming about Daniel on base.

The four of them met at the Outback. Once upon a time, they'd gone to O'Malley's for these events, but Daniel, Carter and he had made themselves unwelcome there on one memorable occasion when Daniel had elected not to let some twit call him names.

Carter settled in to tell them all about some of her ideas about naquadah and quantum mechanics. Even Daniel's eyes crossed within five minutes. Finally, Daniel cleared his throat. "I'm really, sorry, Sam, but could you translate into English for the physically challenged among us?"

Jack glared at him, though he was pretty sure that Daniel had meant something other than what it sounded like he meant. "Would you care to rephrase that, Dr. Jackson?" he suggested.

Daniel was blinking. "I didn't mean that quite how it came out," he said. "I meant physics-challenged."

Carter laughed. "Right, well, it sums up to ..." She paused. "Um ... I'm not sure I can sum it up. It's a little too complicated and theoretical right now."

Jack grimaced. "Well, then, Carter, I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, but let's leave it at that."

She grinned. "I can do that, sir. So, what have the rest of you been up to?"

"I have been training the new recruits that O'Neill brought in," Teal'c said into the silence. "Some of them are proving to be challenging."

"Challenging how?" Daniel asked. Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "I mean, are they hard to train, or are they good opponents in the practice ring?"

Teal'c considered the question. "For the most part, I am finding it difficult to impress upon some of them the true level of danger they face in the fight with the Goa'uld. They seem to be reluctant to think about alien life forms and cannot grasp the differences between Jaffa and Goa'uld and Tok'ra." He smiled very slightly. "There is one among them who is proving to be a pleasure to train, however. He is good in the practice ring and he is quick to understand what I am attempting to teach him.

"That's the best kind of student," Daniel said, and Jack looked at him curiously. "I've taught," the archeologist said defensively.

"I know, we've talked about it," Jack replied blandly, leaving Daniel nothing to growl about. Daniel looked mistrustfully at him, and Carter exchanged a knowing look with Teal'c. Abruptly, Jack found himself just how knowing ... Teal'c wouldn't have mentioned anything to Carter, would he? Surely not.

Daniel looked at the pair of them, then gave Jack a mildly alarmed look that he had no trouble interpreting, but there wasn't anything to say about it now, certainly not in this public arena.

"I've been having a great deal of fun discovering just how badly some of our colleagues express themselves in writing," Jack said. "I sent four reports back to their writers for clarification today."

"I've heard that you can be hell on those," Daniel observed. "I'm glad I don't have to pass your muster."

"No, Daniel, because then I'd be sending it back to you repeatedly with notes like, 'could you put this in laymen's terms, please?' or 'huh?'"

Daniel's eyes were full of sardonic humor when he said, "Exactly."

Jack felt rather like he'd been teasing someone who'd bitten him back, and he didn't quite know how to respond.

"What about you, Daniel?"

"Oh, the never ending round of translation, interrupted periodically by the need to figure out who needs what file when they're all dumped on my desk." Jack stared at him in startlement. Carter started to make some joke, but then noticed Jack's expression and said nothing. Daniel shifted uncomfortably. "What, Jack?"

"Are you saying that the records goons just dump all the files for your department on your desk for you to sort out?"

Daniel shrugged. "Sure. I figure it's a holdover from the days when it was just me." He blinked at Jack as if puzzled. "What's the big deal?"

Carter and Teal'c were looking uneasy, but Jack was a little too focused on the issue to try to reassure them. Eyes narrowing, he said, "And when you say 'figure out,' do you mean that you just have to look at the transfer sheets and see whose name is on it?"

Daniel grimaced. "Look, Jack, it's not a --"

"Daniel, please answer the question," Jack said patiently.

"Jack, I --" Daniel glared at him. "No, Jack. Tolliver and his guys rarely actually put names to the files. They usually put something vague like linguistics on the 'name' line. What of it? It's good enough for government work, as they say."

"No," Jack sat flatly. "It's not."

"The SGC does not have a linguistics department," Teal'c said.

"No, we don't," Carter replied. "Daniel, are you serious? Because everything that comes to my lab has my name on it."

"So it's the standard crap some military guys dish out to civilians. It doesn't take that long to sort things out, and it only occasionally causes real problems, so --"

"But it does cause real problems?" Jack asked. "And how long is 'not that long'?"

Daniel pursed his lips and gazed at Jack, his eyes full of irritation. He glanced over at Carter and Teal'c. "You're spoiling the mood, Jack. Can't we talk about this later?"

It was on the tip of Jack's tongue to say that they would talk about it now, but he thought twice and shrugged. In the silence that followed, Carter took up the conversation in a brightly cheerful voice. For awhile, it was only she and Teal'c who were talking, but eventually Daniel lost his slightly sullen look and joined in. It took Jack a little longer, but they were laughing again before dessert came.

Jack walked into Daniel's office the next morning and waited for the archeologist to notice him. He appeared to be ears deep in something and Jack had learned to his detriment how badly Daniel reacted to being interrupted.

Without looking up, Daniel said, "If this is about what we were discussing last night, Jack, I don't want to talk about it. There's no point."

"Daniel, there is a point. It can't be permitted to go on."

"Right, well, I don't want to make a fuss, so let's just let it drop, okay?"

"Daniel, I am not going to tolerate --"

Daniel turned on him. "Jack, you're really not in a position to get on anyone's back for being a jackass towards me, now, are you?" he said, his tone deadly calm. Jack blinked at him. "People are waiting for you to revert, you know. I've heard people talking, and people have even asked me if your behavior in private is the same as your behavior in public. Jack stared at him in shock that Daniel apparently mistook for a lack of comprehension because he amplified. "In other words, are you still being the same jerk to me when no one else is watching?" Daniel grimaced. "You start riding Tolliver, he'll just take it for guilt or something. He won't take it seriously, and it might just make things worse. I don't need that. The last time I tried to talk to him about it, he made out like I was a flaky civilian who didn't know which end of a transfer form was up. Since you were acting like you thought it was true, there wasn't much I could do about it."

Jack cleared his throat to try and regain the voice the Daniel's bitterness had taken away. "You could always have taken it to Hammond," he said tentatively.

"Right," Daniel said, rolling his eyes. "Somehow inadequately filled out forms and minor variations in procedure seem to be a little petty to take to Hammond." Put that way, Jack could see his point. "And who's he going to believe on the subject of my flakiness? I'm really not in the mood to be patted on the head and told to go back to work like a good little archeologist."

"Hammond wouldn't do that, Daniel, and you have evidence of the --"

Daniel let out an irritable sigh. "I have work to do, Jack. We're leaving tomorrow at two o'clock, and I need to get a few things done before then, if you don't mind?"

"Sure," Jack said, feeling rebuked. He turned to go, but Daniel called him back.

"Oh, and Jack?" He turned to face Daniel again. "Please don't take this to Hammond. The last thing I need is for the military 'goons' as you called them to think I went crying to my CO about this." Jack nodded numbly, and Daniel's cold blue eyes softened a bit. "Jack, I know you mean well, and I know you wish those couple of months never happened, but the fact is that they did, and we have to accept the consequences."

"I'm sorry, Daniel," Jack said.

A smile lit Daniel's face. "I know, Jack. It's okay. But I really do have a lot of work to get done. Robert won't be back for at least a week, which leaves Cameron, Nyan and Martin, none of whom have the experience or the background to translate some of the stuff I'm working on now."

"All right," Jack said. "But I'll be back to kidnap you for lunch."

"The sooner you leave, the more I'll get done before then," Daniel said with a grin that took any possible sting out of the words.

Jack went out and sighed. He had royally screwed up. He didn't want to believe that Daniel was right, but most of what he'd said made a frightening amount of sense.

Chapter Four

Daniel picked up the print out for the translation he'd just finished and read it through to make certain that there were no errors. Reassured, he tucked it and the photographs of the artifact into the folder in their proper places. Then he filled out a fresh file transfer form -- correctly -- and put it in the stack that was due to go out in the interoffice mail.

He looked up at the clock and hoped there was nothing wrong. Jack was nothing if not predictable, and it was nearly quarter past one. He wouldn't have expected Jack to be any later than twelve-thirty.

Evaluating his hunger level, he reached for another file, but before he'd done much more than spread the photocopies of the document out on his desk, Jack came in.

"You know," he said, "just because I'm running late, you don't have to wait for me."

Daniel shrugged. "Not really hungry," he said. "Besides, what makes you think I didn't already go to lunch?"

Jack gave him an incredulous look. "I know you, Daniel," he said. "Come on. It's meatloaf day, and I know how you love that."

"It's food," Daniel replied, shrugging.

"True enough," Jack said. "Which is kind of the whole point of 'lunch,' after all." He raised his eyebrows. "You haven't moved yet. It's lunchtime. Let's go."

With a parting look at the project he'd just started, Daniel followed him. When Jack was in this mood, there wasn't much point in fighting him.

They wound up in an elevator alone, and Jack turned to him immediately, as if seizing an opportunity. "So, tell me something, Daniel," he said. His tone was light and so casual that it aroused Daniel's suspicion.

"What?" he asked.

"Did this whole file transfer crap begin before or after I started being an asshole?"

Daniel blinked. "I thought I said I didn't want to talk about it."

"It's one question, Daniel, and then I'll leave it alone."

Daniel pursed his lips. Jack seemed sincere, but ... "It doesn't change anything, you know. You've still burnt your bridges on this subject. You can't --"

"Just answer the question, Daniel. Did this file transfer crap start before I was being an asshole?"

"Jack --"

"Yes or no," Jack prompted firmly.

'"Yes,' Daniel said. But we've already established that there's really nothing you can do about it."

"I have no intention of doing anything, Daniel," Jack said.

Daniel blinked, a little surprised by how disappointed he was. Suppressing the irrational reaction, he said, "Good." It sounded anemic, so he repeated it for good measure. "Good."

The elevator doors opened and Jack gestured Daniel out first. The meatloaf was fairly fresh, and the moment Daniel smelled it, his stomach woke up and began to demand food.

Daniel watched Jack covertly during lunch. He seemed the same as he always had. He really had managed to conceal his feelings. Daniel was thankful. There had been a couple of close calls, where he was sure that one of them was going to say or do something that would give everything away.

He truly didn't understand how something like this could have happened. Truthfully, he wasn't altogether sure why anyone found him attractive in the first place. Despite his occasional protests over Jack calling him by that name, he was well aware that he was a geek. He'd had a few relationships before Sha're and her father had picked him for her husband, but they had all been based on shared academic interests and similar experiences, or so he'd thought. He didn't see in himself what so many others seem to see in him.

Never before Sha're had anyone specifically stated an interest in him because of his looks. His earlier lovers had talked about his looks, but he'd always kind of assumed that was romantic hyperbole that bore little resemblance to the truth. Jim had been fairly specific, though, and so had Sha're. Hathor was more than specific, she was eloquent. Several women he'd met over the last few years had spoken to him about how good looking he was, one had even described him as a 'hottie.'

He didn't get it. He was an ordinary looking, average build, kind of bland workaholic personality. What was so attractive? Even more, what could be so attractive as to get a normally straight man's interest?

"Daniel!"

He started at Jack's voice and blinked at him. Jack was looking at him with mild alarm. "What?"

"Where did you go?" Jack asked. "You seemed to zone for awhile."

"Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Pretty deeply, I guess," Jack said. "Care to share?"

"Not unless you're up to discussing verb declensions," Daniel said disingenuously.

"No, thanks all the same." Jack shook his head. "Daniel, can't you come up with anything more fun to think about?"

Daniel blinked innocently. "Verb declensions are fun, Jack." He looked up at the clock. "I'd better be getting back to work."

"Fine, but plan to be out of here by six tonight." Daniel raised his eyebrows and Jack gave him the 'your colonel knows what's best for you' look. "I want you rested tomorrow. Sounds like the mission is more your pidgin than mine, and I want you at the top of your form."

Daniel grinned down at Jack as he stood up. "I hear and obey," he said.

As he walked away, he heard Jack mutter, "Yeah, I wish." Shaking his head with amusement, Daniel reflected that unquestioning obedience was the last thing Jack wanted from him, if his own words could be believed.

He wasn't sure what to think. There was no doubt in his mind that he felt more than simple friendship for Jack, but he didn't think that what he felt was what Jack wanted him to feel.

***

Jack watched Daniel leave, keeping his expression impassive while he watched those delicious buttocks moving under his fatigues. When Daniel was out of sight, he sighed and walked back to his own office. He hadn't missed the slight disappointment that had crossed Daniel's face when he'd said he wasn't going to do anything about Tolliver, so he hoped what he did plan to do would meet with Daniel's approval.

He wanted desperately to see those blue eyes flashing with passion, but he would prefer that the passion wasn't anger at him. There were moments when he wished he was several thousand years older, or from a strange new culture that Daniel wanted to know something about, so he could garner all the man's attention to himself.

Jack had heard some of the younger female lieutenants talking about Daniel around the corner from his office one day recently. His eyes, his hair, his long, lean frame that concealed a startling strength ... he'd almost wished he could join them. It would be nice to be able to discuss his feelings with a sympathetic audience. He couldn't air his feelings in any way except with Teal'c, who didn't completely understand the romantic nature of Jack's emotions.

Jack wanted to write love poems, and he was extremely angry with Jim, whoever the hell he was, for coming up with the comparison to nutmeg before he had. It was bad enough that Daniel was playing chess with someone else, but for that someone else to be coming up with novel ways to describe Daniel's beauty was simply unacceptable. He consoled himself with the knowledge that Jim couldn't possibly know Daniel as well as he did, having never experienced the disasters and triumphs with him that Jack had.

His jealousy had come as something of a surprise to him. The idea that there was a man out there, a man he didn't know, who was regarding Daniel as a potential lover disturbed him deeply. He had a feeling, though, that if he took action to find out who Jim was, Daniel would have a completely justified conniption fit.

That didn't stop him from contemplating methods, however, and he broke his thoughts off as he started formulating a likely scheme.

He'd come here to see about when he could bring Sciaparelli here. The surgery had been some weeks ago, and there was about a six week convalescent period which they were now well into. He'd heard nothing regarding his request for the young man's transfer to the SGC, so now it was time to rattle a few cages.

He placed a call to General Piedmont.

***

Tony stared at the TV screen, willing something interesting to come on. Admittedly the forensic shows beat soap operas hands down, but they seemed to repeat more frequently than they should. He had another week of complete rest before physical therapy started, and he was just lucky that his brother Michael went to Georgetown and had a spare bed, or he'd have been stuck in a barracks somewhere.

"Tony, you need anything?" Mike called as he thundered down the stairs of the apartment, a pack on his back that made him look like he belonged in Notre Dame. "I've got class in about twenty minutes, but if you need a soda or something ..."

"I'm good, Mike. Go on."

With a flashing grin, Mike ran out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him with a bang. Tony chuckled. Mike was certainly making the most out of not having Mom around to yell about loud noises.

Tony returned his attention to History's Crimes and Trials. Serial killers were so fascinating. He sighed. It was either that or Blue's Clues or something about a ten-year-old bear named Rupert.

The phone rang and Tony muted the TV. Even listening to one of Mike's friends banter in the lame way that adolescents viewed as 'cool' would be better than what was on TV right now.

"Hello?"

"Michael, is your brother there?"

Tony blinked. "Uncle Solly?" he said, startled. "This is Tony."

"Tony, you sound great," his uncle said. "From what your mother said, I half-expected to find you at death's door."

Tony snorted. "Ma exaggerates, Uncle Solly, you know that. Remember how she used to talk about Theresa's asthma? You'd have thought she was a shut-in instead of a star field hockey player."

Solly laughed. "Yes, that's true. Well, what have you been doing with yourself?"

"Not much," Tony said. "Not much I can do right now."

"I suppose not. How badly are you off, really?"

"I start physical therapy next week, and it can't be a moment too soon for me. My mother didn't train her kids to sit on their butts."

"No, I remember," Solly said. "Well, I'm glad to hear that you're on the mend." He paused. "I'm kind of surprised that you haven't called me to see if I can pull strings for you to stay in this time."

Tony shrugged. "I already asked you once. I shouldn't have then. I didn't want to take advantage."

"Since when is taking advantage a bad thing, Tony?" Solly asked. "What good is having a three star general for an uncle if you can't get him to pull strings from time to time? Nepotism is the military way."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Uncle Solly, but I don't want someone to make a job for me."

"I know, Tony," Solly said. "But it seems like someone is taking care of the whole situation for me. What did you do to make Colonel Jack O'Neill so impressed with you?"

Blinking, Tony shook his head. "I really don't know, sir," he said. "How did you hear about it?"

"Well, it seems that O'Neill is barking up General Piedmont's tree, and Al thought he'd better check with me before he sent you off to this particular base. How much do you know about it?"

"That they don't do deep space radar telemetry, and they have a triple doctorate in anthropology, archeology and linguistics working for them. Beyond that, zilch."

"Well, I can't tell you much over the phone, but I can say that your clearance would have to be raised a notch or two for this job. Not that you don't rate it, like Al says, but this isn't the safest place in the world to be. It's stateside, but it's got the highest casualty and mortality rates of any stateside base, bar none. Are you sure you want to go there?"

Tony pursed his lips. "Tell me, sir, do you know what they do there?"

"I do."

"Would you go there if you had the chance?"

"God help me, if I were twenty years younger ..."

"Then yes, sir, I want to go. If I would be of use."

"Your mother's going to kill me," Solly said, sounding despairing.

"What Ma doesn't know can't hurt her, and she doesn't have clearance, does she?"

"Hey, mind your manners," Solly snapped, but Tony could tell he was amused.

"Yes sir."

"I'll give my blessing to Al then, and you can start looking for someplace to live in Colorado Springs."

Chapter Five

Jack turned and looked his team over, making sure they were all ready to move out. Teal'c was strapping something down more firmly on Daniel's back. From the grin on the archeologist's face and the amused lift of a single eyebrow by the Jaffa, Jack guessed that Daniel was making some kind of a joke. He wondered what it was.

Carter's eyes shone as she no doubt contemplated the opportunities this mission offered to expand her scientific knowledge.

They all met his eyes as he gazed around at them and nodded to show that they were set to go.

Hammond walked into the gateroom. "Ready, colonel?" he asked.

"We are, sir," Jack replied.

Hammond nodded seriously and looked at all of SG-1. "Well, you all know the mission. Standard contact schedule, and Godspeed." He gestured to Harriman, on duty in the control room, and the gate whirled to life.

The MALP had already been through the gate, and a welcoming party had gathered to greet them, or so he understood. Daniel spoke earlier with someone named Calder and had arranged for them to be accorded diplomatic status.

Jack hoped this would be a nice, boring mission, quick and easy, no real problems.

Once they were through the gate, he found himself in the middle of a large, spacious room that contained a number of artifacts, some Goa'uld, some not. It was clearly a museum. There was a DHD situated at the usual distance away from the gate, but on the same level, so that anyone who dialed the gate would have to dodge the kawoosh. Kind of inconvenient for quick getaways, he thought.

A number of people had assembled at the gate to welcome them. The gathered men and women exuded self-importance, and Jack restrained himself from rolling his eyes. They were all dressed in dull colors, their garments had the slightly uniform look of business attire. A short, skinny guy walked forward. He looked like a brown rat, all smarm and conceit, but he was smiling and didn't seem remotely threatening. As the man approached, Daniel glanced at Jack for permission. Jack had already scanned the room and assessed the hazards to be about average, so he nodded. Daniel moved to join the man.

"Greetings," the local said with a polite nod. "Welcome to Ralnethi. I am Administrator Calder."

"I am Dr. Daniel Jackson," Daniel said. "This is Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter and Teal'c. As I told you before, we are peaceful explorers."

Calder glanced at the rest of them with a gracious smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It is an honor to welcome you to our city. Would you care for a tour of our administrative facilities before the evening meal?"

Daniel glanced at him, his eyes full of the awareness that Jack would rather gargle with broken glass than tour anyone's 'administrative facility.' Jack gave in to the inevitable with as much grace as he could muster and nodded his agreement. Calder turned assessing eyes on him, but returned his attention to Daniel when the archeologist spoke. "Certainly."

Fortunately, the tour was short and relatively sweet, then their hosts guided them to a room that looked as if it might double as a boardroom as well as a banquet hall. Jack excused himself and Carter to return to the gate and make the 'all's well' report. A young man of about twenty guided them, and though Jack tried several times to draw him out, the boy never spoke. Jack wasn't sure if he was shy or if he'd been instructed to keep quiet. He was dressed differently than the others, in a sleeveless tunic and trousers, and he wore a bead necklace.

When they returned, they found that dinner had been delayed for them and, making their apologies, they sat down to the table with the others. Jack listened to the diplomatic small talk while they ate. Clearly these folks didn't like to mix business with pleasure, and eating at that table was a definite pleasure. Succulent meats, tender vegetables with pleasantly spiced sauces, and some berry-like pastry for dessert.

After dinner, about half the complement of locals filed out with polite farewells, and Jack guessed they must be the significant others of those that remained. Ah, down to business. Jack sat up a little straighter.

Administrator Calder rose. "Would you believe, given the vegetables and fruits provided at tonight's table, that my planet is in the grips of a devastating ice age that has blanketed our world with glacial ice and snow?"

Jack stared at Calder with astonishment. An ice age? He hadn't noticed any snow in the streets when he'd looked out the windows, though the sky had seemed kind of odd.

"Is that why the city is domed?" Carter asked, and he turned to stare at her.

"It is," Calder said. "Thus far we have survived three hundred and fifty-seven years of killing cold, thanks to hard work and the ingenuity of our scientists."

"Really?" Carter leaned forward. "I'd be very interested to see how that works."

"Tomorrow Fiona will show you all around the city. She will take you to some of our labs and engineering facilities." A stately older woman with graying black hair nodded from halfway down the table.

"I'd like that very much," Carter said.

"Why did you not seek greener pastures through the stargate?" Teal'c asked suddenly.

"Yes," Daniel seconded. "You didn't seem all that surprised to find that it was a ... a transportation device."

"We did not know that the transport ring was still functional," the man next to Calder said. "Early in our efforts to survive the cold, our scientists attempted to make it work, but they had no success."

Calder nodded. "That is why the ring was placed in the Hall of Learning. We knew from the ancient writings that people used to travel through it, but we came to believe that it no longer functioned."

"It's really just a question of finding the right combinations of symbols on the dialing device," Daniel said. "Though I'd recommend raising the gate or lowering the dialing device before doing much in the way of experimentation."

"Yes, you said that splash of energy could be deadly," Calder said.

Carter opened her mouth to respond, but Jack leaned forward. "We can provide considerably more information about the gate and how it works," Jack said. "Assuming we can work out an equitable trade."

Daniel blinked a lot, looking slightly abashed, and Carter bit her lip.

"Of course," Calder said. "Perhaps you will see something that interests you on your tour tomorrow."

"Perhaps we shall," Jack replied. He couldn't put his finger on why exactly, but the guy put his back up. Daniel shot him a subtle look of reproach. In a more friendly voice, Jack spoke again. "In the meantime, it's getting late. I'll need to check in with our home base periodically, so if you can show us to our rooms and then delegate someone to show me how to get back to the gate from there, I'd very much appreciate it."

Calder made the appropriate arrangements and they retired. They had a suite with four bedrooms, but Jack didn't like having them all split up that way. "Usual tent buddies," he ordered. Daniel gave him an odd look, but didn't object. Carter and Teal'c just nodded. "Get some sleep, everyone. We need our rest for the big tour tomorrow."

"Yes sir," Carter said, and Teal'c nodded.

Daniel headed into one of the bedrooms and Jack followed him. "So, are we allowed to shower, mon capitaine?" he asked ironically.

"If you want to," Jack said. "But not solo."

"I am not showering with you, Jack," Daniel said instantly, as if instinctively.

Jack blinked at him and shifted uncomfortably. That hadn't been quite what he meant, but Daniel's leap to that left him feeling both aroused and provoked. "What, would you rather I sent Carter?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes, she's not interested in me s --" Daniel broke off, looking appalled at himself.

Jack felt rather hurt. "I've been interested in you for some time, Daniel," he said. "And we've showered together for years. I haven't grabbed anything yet."

"I don't know where that came from," Daniel said, his eyelashes fluttering as they always did when he was nervous and conciliatory. "I didn't mean --"

"Yes, you did," Jack said gently. "And it's okay. I should have expected it. I just don't know how I'll explain a change in sleeping arrangements to Carter and Teal'c without arousing her suspicion that were still mad at each other or something." Jack turned towards the door, heartsick. Daniel didn't trust him as much as he'd thought, but it wasn't like he'd done a whole lot to earn his trust lately.

"No, Jack!" Daniel caught his arm. "No, I really don't know where that came from. I know you wouldn't ... ever ... you're not that kind of person. I just ..." He shook his head. "Forget about it, okay?"

"It isn't even what I meant," Jack said, immensely reassured. "I just don't want anyone that vulnerable without someone guarding the entrance. We'll take turns."

"Sure, you go first," Daniel said. "Then you can tell me if the water's cold or not."

"Thanks, Daniel, I'll do that," Jack said, counting it a victory that Daniel looked mildly outraged and very surprised as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

When Daniel came out, Jack stretched. "Why don't you take the side of the bed away from the door," he suggested. "I'd feel safer with you over there."

Daniel shrugged and walked around to the other side of the bed. Jack turned around and picked up the covers, steeling himself for what was bound to be a difficult situation.

"Jack, if you aren't comfortable with this, I could sleep on the floor," Daniel said. "I mean, it's asking a lot of you."

"I'm fine, Daniel. Get in and ... pipe down."

"If you're sure ..."

For answer, Jack got into the bed and punched the pillow a couple of times before laying flat on his back. A moment later, the bed dipped and he knew that Daniel had settled down.

Light hitting his eyelids woke Jack up. He sighed. Morning sucked. There was an odd weight on his left arm ... in fact there was something pressed against the entire left side of his body. He opened his eyes slowly and realized two things. He was offworld, and Daniel was cuddled up against his side.

The certainty that Daniel was going to kill him warred with a feeling of perfect rightness. Daniel was in his arms, pressed close, his head resting on Jack's shoulder. He wanted desperately to caress Daniel's arm, to stroke his hair, but he didn't dare. If Daniel woke in the midst of something like that, he would kill Jack, and with good reason. Jack would kill Jack.

Instead he lay there, enjoying the sensation while it lasted, wondering if even that was inappropriate. It probably was, but he couldn't bring himself to move, not when he could watch Daniel sleep from so close a vantage point.

When Daniel started to shift and mutter like he was waking up, Jack pulled gently away. Daniel came awake all at once and stared at him. "Did I cuddle up to you?" he asked, his words slurred slightly with the aftereffects of sleep.

"I don't know who cuddled up to whom," Jack said fairly. "I woke up this way."

Daniel looked at where he was on the bed and evidently concluded from his position that he was the guilty party. He shook his head. "God, I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't -- I mean, that wasn't fair to --"

"Don't sweat it, Daniel," Jack said firmly. "Shit happens."

"Yeah." Daniel sat up. "Coffee?" he said hopefully.

"I think that can be arranged," Jack said, sniffing the air. Quicker even than he was, Daniel scented the aroma of freshly made coffee and was out of the bedroom and into the main room of the suite before Jack could blink twice.

"I win," Carter said as Jack emerged. "A minute, forty seconds."

"You bet on how long it would take Daniel to smell the coffee?" Jack asked, amused.

"How long it would take him to come out of the bedroom," Teal'c said. "Indeed, Major Carter, you have won."

"I'll get you two later," Daniel growled, taking the cup of instant coffee from Carter, "when I'm conscious."

"You can get boiling water from that spigot over there," Carter said.

"Somehow I can't face powdered eggs after last night's dinner," Jack replied dourly.

"I wasn't suggesting ... I just was explaining where I got the water for the coffee."

Jack shook his head. "It was just a comment, Carter. I wonder when we can expect our hosts to show up this morning."

"There's no telling," Daniel replied. "We know nothing about this planet's culture or when they might consider it appropriate to disturb a guest." He held out his empty cup and with a grin, Carter poured some more instant crystals into it. He filled it at the spigot and walked back, stirring. "In fact, they may wait for us to emerge."

"Well, then, we'd better emerge if we want breakfast, then, hadn't we?" Jack said, stretching. "Hey, do I get any of that?"

"Sure, sir," Carter said, handing him a cup with instant coffee in it and a spoon. Jack pursed his lips. Daniel got service for his first cup. Of course, Daniel was a bear until he got his coffee, so maybe that was simple self defense.

Jack walked over to the spigot and got his water. "So, any thoughts about last night?"

Carter leapt on the question instantly. "I'm fascinated by the notion that they're producing food of that quality during an ice age. I'm curious what their power source is, and how they're managing to grow that much food."

"I'd like to know how big their population is," Daniel said. "And is this the only city?"

"All good questions. Teal'c?"

"I found it interesting to note that Administrator Calder was the only one who spoke throughout much of the evening, and he seemed discomfitted by it when one of his subordinates spoke out of turn."

"Some cultures do have very firm hierarchies," Daniel said slowly.

"That doesn't tend to suggest a very free society," Jack observed.

"Not necessarily ..."

"Daniel, I'm not saying it's a certainty, but it is suggestive, you have to admit." Daniel shrugged his assent. "I've been out four or five times, to go call home, and there's always been someone outside. Shall we?"

Daniel finished off his second cup of coffee, and they headed out of the room. Immediately on their exit, they were greeted by a young fellow Jack hadn't seen before. Apparently the shift had changed. It seemed that the sleeveless tunic and necklace were some kind of uniform, because this kid was wearing much the same thing. Or maybe it was a fashion statement.

"I am instructed to bring you to Administrator Calder's table for the morning meal," the boy said, bowing low.

Daniel said something appropriate -- Jack didn't pay much attention -- and they followed the young man. Breakfast just confirmed Jack's opinion that this Calder guy was a pompous twerp. But pompous people were not automatically evil people, no matter how annoying they might be.

At the end of the meal, he stood up and rang a bell. The woman Fiona walked in and smiled at them thinly. "Please stay with your escort as you tour the city. It can be somewhat confusing for the uninitiated, and I wouldn't like for any of you to get lost."

"Thank you, Administrator," Daniel said politely, and they exchanged a few other highly boring pleasantries and moved off on the tour. Jack and Teal'c hung back, watching and listening for problems and possible military applications while Carter and Daniel asked intelligent and relevant questions of their tour guide.

It appeared that this was, in fact, the only city on the planet, and it wasn't enormous, no more than a million people. Daniel asked about genetic diversity and was told that they were careful to match gene scans before allowing breeding, to avoid too much shared genetics. Jack supposed it was a necessary precaution in a small, closed population, but it sounded a little too close to eugenics to make him happy. Only the fact that he saw plenty of diversity in skin, hair and eye color, body type, heights and general appearance reassured him that they probably weren't attempting to breed some kind of perfect race.

They saw labs where chemical engineering took place, workshops where amazing things were done with metal, at least according to Carter, a few schools where the children looked well groomed and studious. If Jack hadn't caught sight of a couple of boys playing some kind of puzzle game in the back of the room, he might have thought they were Stepford children. Unfortunately, the teacher caught them, too, and took the game away.

Daniel enjoyed the museums and the library required a half-hour. It would have been longer, but they assured him that they would let him come back. They even loaned him a book. Jack would have liked to have such a delighted look bestowed on him as Daniel turned on that book.

They headed back to the administration building then, and Jack reported in to General Hammond after a full day of being away from the gate. Then they went to dinner with Administrator Calder, who asked about their day. Like obedient children, Daniel and Carter babbled happily about what they'd seen and asked appropriate questions. After awhile, Jack cleared his throat. "Do you have any military facilities? Any law enforcement?"

"We have no real need for either," Calder said, his tone a clear disparagement of any who did. "I can have someone show you the museums dedicated to our former ways, before we found that survival outweighed all other motivations."

"I'd like that," Jack said dryly, and his tone wasn't lost on the administrator. They smiled at one another with less than total sincerity.

"I'd like to spend some more time at the metallurgical facilities," Carter said. "I was intrigued by some of the processes."

Calder nodded condescendingly. "Of course, it will be arranged. And you, Dr. Jackson?"

Daniel pursed his lips. "I think I'd like to go with Colonel O'Neill," he said consideringly.

Jack wondered what had prompted that, but he was just as glad. Teal'c could go watch metallurgy with Carter while he and Daniel looked around museums to violence. That would work.

"I will arrange things for you. Master Teal'c, have you a wish to see anything specific?"

"I shall accompany Major Carter," he said solemnly.

"Very good," Calder said. "Now, I have arranged a concert for this evening, if that meets with your approval."

Jack felt his face freeze in an expression of bland acquiescence while Daniel expressed their pleasure at the invitation. They adjourned to another room, one with excellent acoustics and a small stage. Six people occupied the stage, one with a wind instrument something like a flute or a piccolo, two with percussion instruments, and the remaining three had various types of stringed instruments. He was braced for something evil and screechy, but it was actually quite pleasant, even if they used a different melodic structure than the one predominant in the United States. He couldn't quite place it, but it was subtly different.

He hoped Carter or Daniel was taping it. He hadn't thought to.

When they musicians were done, he started to clap, but caught Daniel eyeing the locals who began to applaud. Jack joined in with a slight grin. For once his instinct beat Daniel's on something cultural. After the musicians had filed out, Jack turned to Calder. "Please convey my sincerest compliments to the musicians. That was excellent."

"I will do so, Colonel O'Neill," Calder said, nodding.

Daniel was gazing at him approvingly, and Jack was caught between basking in his approbation and irritation that Daniel had expected anything less from him.

"Well, I think it's time we retired," Jack said.

"Of course," Calder said. "I will have one of the pages escort you to your rooms, and to the ring if you wish."

"Please," Jack said.

He took Carter again, and she rhapsodized for awhile about the possibilities for learning she'd seen during the day, and her intentions of learning more. The general responded with pleased generalities and they signed off after explaining that they'd be away from the gate most of the next day as well. As time passed without problems, the contact schedule loosened, and Hammond would expect to hear from them less frequently.

They headed back to their suite and the young man who'd acted as their guide stopped outside. Daniel and Teal'c were sitting in the main room, having a spirited discussion about the positives and negatives of a strongly hierarchical society.

Teal'c tilted his head as they walked in. "DanielJackson, I have observed that you do not feel at ease with the culture of your own nation's military, which has a very hierarchical structure."

"I didn't say I'd be comfortable with it," Daniel said. "But such a society can work, even if it's not as free as it could be."

"But do you not think that such a hierarchy tends to stifle innovation?"

"It can," Daniel agreed.

"Then it's a very good thing that we don't enforce it too strictly at the SGC," Jack said, striding towards them. "Otherwise Carter here would be just about smothered, wouldn't she?"

Daniel turned, raising his eyebrows. "No one with any sense would stifle Sam's creativity."

"There are a few people in the military with no sense," Jack observed.

"There certainly are," Carter said with feeling.

Jack turned to her. "You haven't run afoul of any of that sort at the SGC, have you?"

"Once or twice," she said. "But they don't usually get put in charge of me, so it doesn't make much difference."

Jack blinked, but before he could ask who she meant, Daniel said, "Regardless, being hierarchical doesn't automatically make a society bad or wrong."

"Perhaps you are correct, DanielJackson."

"Oh, come on, Teal'c, we both know Daniel's always right."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow and gave a slight smile. "Indeed, O'Neill."

"Of course," Daniel said sarcastically, glaring at Jack. He turned back to Carter. "So, tomorrow you two are going to go off and look at the metal works more closely?"

"Right, Daniel," she said.

"If you see anything interesting, any symbols or anything, make note, would you?"

"We will, DanielJackson," Teal'c said.

"And we'll get to see all sorts of military hardware and such," Jack said, putting a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Looking forward to it?"

"The making of war is part of culture, Jack," Daniel said. "And if they really have put it behind them, then maybe we have something to learn from them."

"They have a closed population, Daniel," Jack protested. "They don't dare fight amongst themselves. It would be the end of them."

"True," Daniel replied, gazing at him thoughtfully. A mischievous glint lit his eyes. "But I didn't expect you to see that."

Carter made a sound that was something like a suppressed snort of laughter, and Teal'c's eyes danced.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Well, we have a full day ahead of us tomorrow. I think it's time for us all to retire."

"I think I'll try to puzzle out some of this book tonight," Daniel said. "Good night, Jack."

Knitting his brows, Jack considered protesting, but then he shrugged. "Good night, Daniel," he said. "Don't stay up too late."

"Yes Mama," Daniel said with a sarcastic grin.

Carter, already at the door to her room, ducked through it with a haste which suggested that she didn't want to be seen laughing at her commanding officer. Teal'c followed at a more sedate pace. Jack gave Daniel a long look. "If you're not in there in two hours, you know I'm going to come find you."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Yes, Jack," he said. "And I can't tell you how safe it makes me feel.'

Jack grimaced. "Good night, Daniel." He went into the bedroom and stripped down to go to bed. He left the door open so that he could hear it if anything went wrong. He took a last look out the door and noticed that Teal'c had done the same. Daniel didn't seem to have noticed, but Jack wouldn't bet on that. Daniel noticed more than he seemed to sometimes.

Sighing, Jack got into bed and rolled onto his side. Sleep was a long time in coming as he listened to the pages turn in the other room.

Chapter Six

After about an hour, Daniel set the book aside and rubbed his eyes. He was going to need some of his resources from home to figure this one out. He sat back on the sofa-equivalent and looked up at the ceiling. What was wrong with this place? Something here made him vastly uncomfortable, but he couldn't place it, which was probably why he was being such an advocate when Teal'c mentioned the same kind of uneasiness.

There was so much to recommend this place, these people, that Daniel didn't want to dismiss them based on some vague, almost instinctive dislike that might be caused by nothing more substantial than the fact that Calder was a condescending son of a bitch. Still, the feeling of wrongness persisted, and he didn't know what was causing it.

If he said anything to Jack, especially right now, so soon after Euronda, Jack might put too much credence in what might be only a mental whim on Daniel's part.

Meanwhile, here he was, sharing a bed with Jack, at Jack's invitation, and that seemed monstrously unfair. He was also made uneasy by the fact that waking up in Jack's arms, with his head pillowed on Jack's shoulder, hadn't felt all that odd. It didn't make sense. He didn't want a relationship with Jack, and that being the case, he couldn't go around making things worse for Jack by cuddling up to him in the night.

It was probably just that Jack's close proximity helped him to ignore the discomfort he felt in this place. That, too, was unfair. He wondered what Jack would do if he found him asleep out here.

That was the other trouble. If he refused to sleep in the same bed with Jack, he risked suggesting that he didn't trust the other man, which was far from the truth. There was nothing he didn't trust Jack with, nothing on earth.

He stood up and went into the bedroom where he found Jack lying on his back on the near side of the bed, eyes closed, one arm thrown up to cover them against the light Daniel had left on in the main room of the suite. Making a slight detour, Daniel switched off most of the lights, leaving one lamp on for security.

Then he returned to the bedroom and looked at Jack again. It was so odd to see him sleeping. Usually, he woke the moment someone entered the room, a legacy of years of military service in some pretty uneasy places. Daniel walked around to his side of the bed and started taking off his gear. Vowing that he would not cuddle up to Jack, he curled up on his side, facing away from his bed partner, and tried to still his mind for sleep.

Daniel blinked a couple of times, then squeezed his eyes shut before opening them. In front of his face there was just an expanse of green t-shirt, and he had an arm thrown across a slim waist. He'd done it again. He started to move away, but the arm around his shoulders squeezed him tightly, snuggling him close. He stopped trying to shift away and lay still, wishing he understood what was going on with him. Once again, he was lying with his head on Jack's shoulder, one of Jack's arms around him, one of his arms around Jack, and it felt completely natural. Jack's breathing was slow and regular, and Daniel wondered how long it would take him to wake up.

After awhile, Jack shifted slightly, squeezing as he stretched, then relaxing. "Mmmm," he said. "Good morning, Daniel."

Now that Jack was awake, Daniel tried again to move away, and Jack didn't try to stop him. "God, Jack, I'm sorry. I don't ... I didn't ..."

"Daniel, you were asleep, I was asleep, rational people don't hold their friends responsible for what happens when they're asleep."

"Right," Daniel said. "Well, you take the first shower. Like you said, we've got a busy day ahead of us."

"You sure you don't want to shower first?" Jack asked, and Daniel shook his head. "I guess that makes sense. He stood up and stretched, pulling his t-shirt off. "Age before beauty and all that." Before Daniel could do more than gape at him, he had disappeared into the bathroom .

Daniel shook his head. It had been a feeble witticism, that's all. Jack hadn't meant anything by it. He couldn't have. He stretched out on the bed and tried to analyze his reactions. Why did it feel so right to be snuggled up to Jack?

He was closer to Jack than he'd been to anyone in his life with the exception of Sha're. Never before Sha're had he missed the feeling of cuddling, a person couldn't miss what they didn't know. Snuggling with Sha're had brought up atavistic memories of being cuddled by his mother, but he'd spent most of his childhood pretty much alone. Maybe it was just that he missed sharing a bed with someone he loved, the warmth of holding one another in the night and of burrowing in together in the morning, resisting the call of dawn.

It wasn't fair, though, for him to take advantage of Jack's nearness to have that again, not when he knew how Jack felt and that he didn't share those feelings.

"So, what are you stewing about?" Jack asked. "I sure do like those washing things they have for clothes. Toss them in, and your clothes are ready and de-stinked before you're out of the shower."

"Those are nice," Daniel said, getting up and walking towards the bathroom. "I'll be just a --"

Jack caught his arm. "Is something wrong, Daniel?"

"No, I just --" Daniel shook his head. "I feel like a heel. It's not fair for me to ... when you ... look, I need to shower."

"I thought that might be it," Jack said. He put his hands on Daniel's shoulders. "Look, Dannyboy, I suggested this, and I don't mind. You're probably worried that it's making things harder for me somehow." Daniel nodded, acutely troubled. "Let me assure that it's not." He squeezed Daniel's shoulders and let go. "It's actually kind of nice. I sometimes miss the closeness of sharing a bed with someone I care about."

Daniel gazed at him for several seconds, trying to see if he was pouring on the patented O'Neill bullshit, but he didn't see any signs of it. He shrugged. "Okay. I can't pretend I haven't missed that kind of closeness, but under the circumstances it sort of feels like I'm taking advantage."

"Well, you're not. Now, go rinse off that stink." Jack gave him a gentle shove towards the bathroom and Daniel went.

Daniel found the war museums fascinating, and he could tell that Jack did as well. They walked from room to room with a docent named Aileen, going backwards through time. It wasn't the direction Daniel would have chosen, but he didn't object. Seeing these people's history the way they thought of it was part of learning about their culture.

After they'd gone through six or so rooms, Aileen stopped at a doorway. "This is the oldest of all our exhibits. It goes back to a time when we had kings who deified themselves." Daniel glanced at Jack, who was raising his eyebrows. The docent looked pleased at their apparent interest. "In ancient times, the kings Apophis and Heru-ur fought a great battle on the plains to the north that are now covered with ice. Eventually, Heru-ur defeated Apophis and drove him from our lands, and there followed eons of tyranny from him and all his descendants."

"I see," Daniel said. "What happened then?"

"Well, that has been debated hotly in our scholarly circles, but now that we know that the ring is in fact a transportation device, it seems very likely that the oldest stories are true. That era's Heru-ur, taking a select few of his nearest followers, left our planet sixteen centuries ago, never to return. The tales tell us of a magic stone that was mined here for millennia, but when the mines played out, Heru-ur left in search of more of the stone. Of course, we know that magic is a myth, but perhaps there was some kind of powerful mineral that we know nothing of that was abundant on this planet until it was all taken by this last Heru-ur."

"Naquadah," Jack said, nodding to Daniel.

The effect on Aileen was nothing short of electric. "Naquadah?" she exclaimed. "That is the name used in the most ancient texts for the magic stone. Is it real?"

Daniel nodded. "It is. It's very likely that your most ancient stories are true, in the main. Many planets were settled for the sole purpose of extracting naquadah from their soil, then abandoned with the populations that were brought there when the naquadah was all gone."

Her eyes were wide, and she seemed barely able to speak. "Please, come in and see what the last Heru-ur left behind."

They followed her, and Daniel glanced at Jack, wondering when they should tell them that Heru-ur was not a hereditary name for their kings, but a Goa'uld who was still alive and out there somewhere. Jack seemed to read his question in his face and shrugged very slightly. They walked into a room that was full of Goa'uld weapons and torture devices.

"The devices that powered these objects were removed in ancient times," Aileen said. "Now, we have no idea how they worked. Perhaps you know?"

Daniel's eye came to rest on a staff weapon. "We might," he said. "This is fascinating." She beamed at him. "Do you mind if we wander back through the museum more slowly on our own?"

"No, of course not," she said. "Send one of the pages for me if you have any questions."

Daniel nodded. Two young men had been assigned to them, and a young woman and a young man to Teal'c and Sam. They didn't seem much like guards, more like attendants, but Calder had asked them to stay with their escorts so as not to become lost in the city.

Aileen left, and they wandered through the room, looking at devices whose uses they had direct experience of. "Sixteen centuries," Jack muttered. "That's a long time."

"They've made a lot of progress," Daniel replied.

"Why did you want to go back through the museum?" Jack asked.

"A couple of reasons," Daniel said. "I wanted to look at a few things to see if I'm reading them right."

Jack shrugged and they made their way forward in time, the pages nearby but not encroaching on them in any way. Daniel finally came to a stop before the most recent of the exhibits, about a war that took place about fifty years before the true effects of the encroaching ice age became impossible to ignore.

"Look here, Jack," he said. "Throughout the history of this place, the prisoners taken in war become the slaves of those who took them prisoner. Even in the last three hundred and fifty years."

"America had slaves within the last three hundred and fifty years," Jack pointed out logically. "Hell, within the last hundred and fifty years."

"I know," Daniel said. "But that's an unusual situation, not replicated anywhere in our history. A truly shameful chapter, but not really relevant to what I'm talking about. The practice of turning captured prisoners of war into slaves hasn't been practiced institutionally for a long time. By isolated tribes, perhaps, but not by nations. This ..." He gestured. "It's clear that slavery is an institution with a long past here, probably a holdover from the Goa'uld."

"Probably, but what's your point?"

"Well, have you seen any signs of slavery now?" Daniel asked.

Jack shrugged. "No war, no prisoners of war, no slaves. Seems pretty logical."

"So, do you think they'd return to the practice if they had another war?"

Jack's eyes widened, and he seemed to grasp Daniel's point suddenly. "That's a very good question," he said. "And come to think of it, I haven't seen anything regarding law enforcement." He turned to the page beside him. "Can you ask Aileen to come back?"

The boy nodded and strode off, and Daniel looked back at the pictures and weaponry inside the case. "I'm not sure whether this is really an issue or not, Jack, I just thought I should say something."

"I'm not sure, either," Jack replied. "But it's better to have it in mind than to ignore it."

Aileen returned and Jack put the question to her. She smiled and explained that the law enforcement museum was separate, and they would see it after lunch. "We've arranged for you to eat at a nearby restaurant with your friends, if that's agreeable to you?"

Daniel smiled. "That sounds great," he said.

Within twenty minutes, they were seated at a comfortable table in a restaurant that resembled an outdoor café. There were trees and flowering bushes, and Daniel kept his hankie handy, but nothing seemed to trigger his allergies. Sam and Teal'c showed up after a few more minutes and sat down.

"So, have you two seen anything exciting?" Jack asked.

Sam nodded eagerly. "Their metallurgy is very advanced, and I'm supposed to get to see some of the chemical laboratories after lunch. They have some interesting things to offer."

"I'd like to have a written report this evening, then, to send to General Hammond."

She nodded. "No problem, sir."

"What have you learned about their history of war?" Teal'c asked.

"The last war they fought was just over four hundred years ago," Daniel said. "And this planet was fought over by Apophis and Heru-ur more than a thousand years ago."

"Indeed?" Teal'c asked. "Why did they leave, then?"

"The naquadah deposits were exhausted," Jack replied. "So, they've got you covered for this afternoon?"

"Yes sir," Sam said, and then she started to talk about what she'd learned about their metallurgy. Daniel was fascinated, but though he tried to follow what she said, he had difficulty grasping it all.

When they were done with lunch, they went their separate ways, and the law enforcement museum confirmed Daniel's uncertainty. It was clear that they'd used their criminals for menial labor, but again, Jack pointed out that American prisons had done much the same thing.

"True," Daniel said. "And there's no evidence that they didn't release them after a term, or that they used them for overly dangerous tasks."

"And it's in the past," Jack pointed out. "We can't judge a people based on the actions of their ancestors."

"Again, true," Daniel said, but he found himself uncertain. Still, he couldn't put his finger on why. They went back to their rooms and both he and Sam put together written reports to send back to Earth, and Daniel sent the book back to have a copy made so he could puzzle it out at his leisure.

They had dinner in their room and discussed what they'd seen. Daniel could tell that Teal'c was made uneasy by the history he and Jack related, but as Jack said, judging people by the actions of long dead ancestors made no sense.

Jack and Daniel went to bed on separate sides of the bed, yet once again, Daniel woke up snuggled up to Jack's side. Jack seemed pleased enough by the situation, and Daniel sighed. He gave Jack a quick squeeze around the ribs, then got up and went into the bathroom.

Their medical facilities were slated for today, and they proved to be relatively close to on par with them as far as medicine went. They had a little more skill in dealing with injuries due to cold, but beyond that they were roughly equal.

That evening, Jack asked Calder what he wanted from them. The answer was predictable. Gate technology, gate addresses, new vegetables and fruits that they hadn't been able to grow, an exchange of culture, music, literature, art.

They passed that on to Hammond in their evening contact before going to bed. It seemed little enough to give in return for incredible advances in metallurgy and chemistry, not to mention hydroponics. Sam was quietly bubbling with excitement, and Daniel sympathized. He just found himself uncertain. This culture had much to recommend it, but there were questions beneath the surface, lingering. The issues with Euronda had been plain to Daniel if to no one else, but here, where all seemed fairly open and above board, both he and Teal'c sensed something wrong.

There was nothing definite, though, and Daniel didn't want to say anything until he had something to base his objections on.

Once they were back in their suite, Jack looked at him. "Something's bothering you, Daniel. What is it?"

Daniel grimaced. "That's the problem, Jack, I don't know exactly. I just feel like there's something not quite right, but I can't put my finger on it."

"I have a similar feeling, O'Neill," Teal'c said.

"Well, I can tell you one thing that seems a little odd," Sam said, and they all turned to her. "Not once have they shown us anything that remotely resembled a power source for this amazing city. I've asked, but the subject always gets changed. I thought at first that they might have solar power, but they didn't seem to understand the concept when I asked about it."

"Really?" Daniel blinked.

Sam nodded. "I'm very curious how they're managing it. It could be fairly straightforward, but it's hard to say. Most of what we could do would poison the environment badly, and I'm hoping they've come up with something that avoids that problem."

"That would be worth looking into," Jack said. "But maybe they'll tell us in good time."

"Or maybe there's a reason they don't want us to know," Daniel suggested.

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Well, let's hit the sack. One more day of tours while Hammond sees what the mucky-mucks think."

***

Teal'c aroused himself from kelnoreem when he heard Major Carter begin moving around the room. He offered her first chance at the bathing chamber which she took with alacrity. He emerged to find that she had left the bed chamber. Going out into the main room of the suite, he found her standing in the doorway to the room in which DanielJackson and O'Neill were sleeping.

She appeared to be stunned, so he walked over to see what was wrong. He could see nothing amiss. O'Neill lay on his back with DanielJackson close beside him on his left side, his head on O'Neill's chest. With his left arm, O'Neill cradled him close, and DanielJackson had thrown his left arm over his companion's waist. O'Neill's right hand rested on the younger man's arm.

Teal'c looked down at Major Carter's face. She was staring at the two men in apparent shock, so he reached in and very gently removed the door handle from her hand and pulled the door shut. She stepped backwards in surprise and bumped into him. After a moment of awkward movement, they wound up facing each other. "Is something wrong, Major Carter?"

"Did you see them?" she asked in a whisper.

"I did," he said in a low voice. "They seemed most affectionate."

"And that doesn't strike you as odd?" she asked.

He led her away from the door so that they would be less likely to awaken DanielJackson and O'Neill and cause them embarrassment. "It does not. They are close friends and have often shared warmth together. You have seen them do so in the past, but did not comment then."

She gave him a perplexed look. Shaking her head very slightly, she said, "Yeah, but, Teal'c, it's not cold." She pointed towards the door. "And that isn't spooning for warmth."

"Do you believe that they are doing anything inappropriate, Major Carter?" he asked. He knew full well that she did not, but he had discovered that his human friends sometimes found it necessary to speak a truth themselves before they could fully accept it.

"Well, no!" She bit her lip. "But you do know ... I mean, you've been on Earth for awhile now ... I don't know how it is among Jaffa, but ..." She broke off, shaking her head.

"I have often seen fellow Jaffa in such companionable positions," he said calmly. "It is not at all uncommon for soldiers to seek the comfort of other soldiers in times when they are far from their wives and family."

Major Carter blinked at him. She turned and looked at the door, and then turned slowly back to him. "You don't mean what I think you mean, do you?"

He raised an eyebrow, mildly baffled by her choice of phrasing. "I do not know what you think I mean, Major Carter. Please be more explicit."

She turned a startling shade of pink and began to stammer. "I don't ... I mean ... you couldn't ... what ... crap!"

He blinked. "Major Carter, I do not understand what is causing you such distress." He had not expected this to cause her such dismay, but she didn't seem to disapprove on principle. She seemed more worried that a relationship might cause difficulties for them in the future. "They are very close. You were aware of this, surely."

"How close?" she asked in a strangled voice.

He glanced at the door. "If they have not moved, you could not slip a daluf between them."

She stared at him, eyes wide. "Was that a joke?" she demanded.

Tilting his head, he raised his eyebrow again. "If you cannot tell, I shall not --"

"Teal'c!" she exclaimed. "I just --" She shook her head. "Don't you realize how that would look to anyone else?"

"It would look as if they were being affectionate," he said.

"Men aren't affectionate in that way in our culture, Teal'c," she replied.

He knew this, but he also found it both foolish and inexplicable. "I have noticed that, among your soldiers at least, men are expected to be quite stoic."

"This from the man who is practically the definition of stoic."

He sighed. "Among my people, I am considered to be reserved, and even were I not, I am not among my people."

"I didn't mean --" she began in what was clearly going to be an apology that would be very embarrassing to them both.

"I do not take offense, Major Carter," he said to forestall her. She subsided, and he went on. "Your culture does not require that your men be reserved, but that they be stoic regarding their affectionate emotions towards others. I have noted that women in the military seem to be a good deal more stoic emotionally than civilian women, but nevertheless, you may show affection for each other."

Major Carter knit her brows together. "Our culture just doesn't permit men to show affection for each other openly. I'm not saying it's a good thing, but it is a fact."

"This is not an open display of affection, Major Carter," he said, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "If you had not opened the door as you did, you would not have seen it."

"It doesn't have to be in public, Teal'c. They don't show it openly in front of each other, even when they're alone."

He considered this, then he looked at her quizzically. "How would you know if they did or did not? You would not be there."

The door opened and DanielJackson emerged. "Jack's still in the shower. Are we out of coffee?"

Major Carter shook her head and hurried over to her pack. "What, me run out of coffee with you along?" she asked. "I'd make a special trip to the gate if that was the case."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Teal'c gazed at DanielJackson. He did not believe that the young scholar had accepted O'Neill's love, but there was something passing between them that was beneficial to them both. It gave him great pleasure to see it. They had both of them lost much in this struggle. It would be good for them to gain something more in each other.

Chapter Seven

On the fourth day they walked around the city on a more general tour, looking at shops and the like. While the mucky-mucks on Earth were considering the proposals, Hammond wanted them to get a feel for the culture of the place. Some of the unease Teal'c and Daniel were feeling had to be catching, because Jack was feeling uncertain. Though Calder had made it clear that they were interested in gate technologies and addresses, which made a lot of sense, he seemed a little less enthusiastic than Jack would have expected.

Their guide, a young fellow named Thomen, led them from marketplace to marketplace, and they saw many fine things. Sculptures, paintings, beautifully woven rugs. Most of the fabric was man-made, they probably had to save their arable land for foodstuffs. Daniel was looking at all of it avidly, and there were no signs of his misgivings at the moment.

Jack was surprised to see cats and dogs given the tightness of the population as he understood it, but he supposed that rats and other vermin would have continued to be a problem, and it would really suck to be in a world without animals at the end of the ice age. He squatted to pet a little brown mongrel while Daniel and Carter were looking over the wares of some kind of rug merchant.

"I'd love to have this on my living room floor," Sam said quietly to Daniel as she fingered a lovely confection of a rug in pinks, greens and blues.

"It's nice," Daniel said, nodding. "It would look good. Too bad we don't have the local equivalent of money."

They moved into the food markets where familiar vegetables rubbed shoulders with the strange. Part of their route led them through residential areas, which gave them a look at the way people spent their days when not working. Daniel could probably write a paper on them, but Jack was just content watching them. He'd ask Daniel for his observations later.

As they crossed an open area, Carter jogged up to the front of the group. "Thomen, what are those?" she asked, pointing across to some odd openings in the ground just inside the dome. They were covered by some kind of grillwork, and Jack thought he saw an access panel.

Thomen looked over thoughtfully. "I'm not sure what you mean, ma'am," he said.

"Those grills, what do they cover? They look like some kind of ventilation shaft."

"I believe those are decoration," he said, blinking in a way that made Jack immediately suspicious. "Please, this way to the botanical gardens."

They followed obediently, but Carter gave Jack a puzzled look. That 'decoration' needed a closer look. Jack would have to come up with something. The botanical gardens were a paradise of flowers and flowering trees. It resembled something that might be found outside a British country house. Very quickly, Thomen set them free to wander by themselves, but Carter stayed near him, asking questions. Daniel was next to Jack, looking at some kind of purple flower and saying something about medieval ballads, and Teal'c was near Carter about twenty feet off.

Jack stared at Teal'c for a second, and the Jaffa turned to see him looking. He gestured with his eyes towards the grillwork they'd seen, glanced at Daniel and gave a quick nod. Teal'c nodded slowly and glanced toward Carter. The message passed, Jack took Daniel's arm and eased him towards the edge of the garden, pointing at something that looked like a daisy to get him moving without a fuss.

When they got to the edge, Daniel seemed to get the point without being told. Their guide had completely missed their defection, and the pair of young men who were their 'pages' were still on the other end of the garden, it apparently not having occurred to any of them that there were no walls, merely low hedges to define the boundaries. They stepped over the hedges and made their way swiftly to the grills.

Daniel kept watch while Jack bent to what looked to him like an access panel. He expected to have to contend with a lock or some such, but it appeared only to have a latch. That made him think twice. In his experience, nothing secret was merely latched, but they were committed. He could apologize later if it was nothing of import.

He opened the panel and found a narrow ladder inside, probably meant for some kind of maintenance crew. He looked up at Daniel, who nodded, and Jack eased himself into the narrow opening. As soon as he was well inside, Daniel followed, closing the access panel above him, but fiddling with the latch to make sure they could exit by same route.

At the bottom of the ladder there was a narrow passageway that led long below one of the grills, and they could feel air moving past them in a downward direction. Daniel looked at Jack. "There must be fans or something down there to keep this moving."

"I'm sure," Jack said, matching Daniel's soft tone. "Looks like there's another ladder at the end here."

They headed down several levels, past various types of machinery. Jack wished they had Carter along, but she was also the best person to keep Thomen occupied in the gardens. The noise grew as they went lower, and soon they saw the fans. This was obviously some kind of service shaft for the machinery they were passing.

Below the fans there was a catwalk, and much father below Jack could see people moving about. He dropped to his knees and narrowed his profile as much as possible. Daniel was still behind him, unable to see the people far below. Using his chin, he gestured for Daniel to follow his example. When the archeologist was close beside him, peering down through the machinery and gloom, he caught his breath in shocked horror.

Directly below them, people were shoveling ore of some variety into something that looked like a furnace. Further off, there was something that looked like a boiler being maintained by more people. Some of them bore signs of recent injury, bandaged with dirty cloths. Their clothes were ragged and filthy, and none of them looked up at all. They just kept working, focused on their tasks.

While they watched, a whistle blew and they all knocked off work, joining a line for food. Jack was immediately reminded that it was close to lunchtime and therefore a time when they might be missed. He poked Daniel, who jumped in surprise, then turned an appalled look at him. Jack shook his head when he opened his mouth to speak, pointed to his right wrist and then towards the surface. Daniel's eyes grew unreadable, and he nodded sharply once. They went upwards slowly and carefully, so as not to draw attention. When they were in the final passageway, Jack caught Daniel's shoulder and squeezed past him so that he was going up first. If there was some flack to be caught, he wanted to the one to catch it.

Opening the access panel a crack, he peered out and saw no running or stationary feet. Maybe their luck had held. They climbed out, closed the panel and returned to the gardens, entering by the same route.

Daniel grabbed his arm and dragged him into what looked kind of like a grotto. "It wouldn't surprise them not to have noticed us here," he said. "Did you see that food?"

Jack blinked. "What food?"

"The food they were feeding those people down there. It was some kind of slop, with unleavened bread."

"Charming," Jack said.

"Compared with what the people up here are eating, it's particularly revolting."

Jack shook his head trying to absorb what he'd just seen. "Did that look to you like it looked to me?" he asked.

"If it looked like slavery to you, then yes, it did." Daniel sounded absolutely furious. "I guess they haven't given up old practices. What do you want to bet those are 'criminals'?"

"If they're criminals -- " Jack started, but Daniel shook his head.

"They at least deserve decent food and medical treatment, agreed?"

"Agreed."

"And we need to know a lot more about the way that works before we make any agreements with the government here."

"Again, agreed," Jack said. Hammond wasn't going to like this, and he had serious doubts about how much importance the Joint Chiefs would place on the situation. Still, he had some discretion. He'd have to find out what Administrator Calder had to say about this practice.

"Colonel O'Neill!" It was the voice of Thomen.

Jack looked at Daniel, who took a deep breath and cleared the anger off his face. Nodding, Jack stepped out of the grotto, Daniel close behind him. "Were you looking for me?" he asked as Thomen approached.

"It is time for lunch, sir," Thomen said. "If you will follow me?"

They had lunch in another 'outdoor' restaurant, this one in the middle of the gardens. Jack leaned towards Carter and told her what they'd seen very quietly. Daniel did the same with Teal'c. Carter blinked and glanced at Teal'c when they'd both heard it all. Speaking in a low tone, she said, "That sounds like a power plant."

"That's what it looked like to me," Jack said. "I'm going to take Daniel and have a little conversation with Administrator Calder. You see what you can find out on the rest of this tour."

Teal'c and Carter both nodded, and Daniel pursed his lips unhappily. Jack knew just how he felt. He didn't like being right about something like this. When Thomen returned, he seemed confused by the request, but he simply had their pages take them back to the administration building. After a bit of discussion with underlings, Jack and Daniel finally walked into Calder's office where he had a bowl of cut up fruit sitting on the desk and was eating. He always seemed to have fruit of some kind on his desk. Jack heard Daniel's sharp intake of breath and touched his arm to keep him from speaking. Daniel took a deep breath and nodded, standing by the door with his arms crossed in that self-hugging gesture that always made him look so anxious.

Jack walked over to the window out onto the city. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Calder said from behind him.

He turned and gazed at the self-important city leader who sat behind his half-circle desk with his bowl of fresh fruit while people in that place below ate slop with dry bread. "Very impressive," he said. "Too bad it's a lie."

Calder knit his brows. "I don't understand."

"While we were on the grand tour, Carter spotted some ventilation shafts coming out of apparently nowhere. We checked it out."

Calder's eyes narrowed slightly. "You were supposed to stay with your escort." He wiped the juices from his fruit off his hands.

Jack nodded. "I can see how you wouldn't want outsiders to know about the slave labor force you keep underground," he said.

Calder seemed mildly taken aback by this remark, but he rallied quickly. With a shrug, he said, "They're merely workers."

Daniel was seething, staring at the bowl of fruit. The man had just tacitly admitted that the people who worked that furnace and boiler set up were slaves. Jack ignored him and kept his focus on Calder. "And what made them so worthy of that?" he asked.

"Colonel ..." Calder said, his voice oozing condescension, clearly preparing to give him some kind of bullshit answer.

Jack walked forward, all the way up to the desk. "Administrator," he said, "I will not recommend trade with a culture that enslaves its own people, I don't care what technology you have."

Calder leaned towards him, smarming him for all he was worth. "This system of government has allowed our culture to survive an ice age."

"Tell me," Jack said, leaning closer, almost whispering. "What's the secret? Starvation? Torture? What?"

Calder seemed to feel Jack was too close. He leaned back in his chair, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes as he spoke, though his tone was as calm and patronizing as ever. "Our methods are actually quite civilized."

"Really?" Jack asked sarcastically.

"Yes," Calder said with a smirk. An odd light came into his eyes. "In fact ... I'll show you."

"I'd be fascinated," Jack replied.

Calder's smirk broadened. "I'm certain you would." He put his hand down on the desk. "I'm sure all four of you would find it quite interesting."

"Sounds great," Jack said, glancing back at Daniel, who had taken a few steps closer and was watching Calder with disgust. "Before we do that, I'm going to have to make a report to my superiors," Jack added.

Calder raised an eyebrow, and Jack heard the door open behind him. He turned to see what was happening and saw two men enter. They were dressed all in red, clearly some form of uniform, policemen or soldiers, people Calder had said they didn't have. Daniel had turned a shade slower than Jack had, and the two soldiers seized him before he could even grab for his sidearm. He drove his elbow into the gut of the one on his right, causing the man to double over, then threw a punch at the one on his left, who tried to grab his arm, but Daniel dodged and threw another punch that connected with the man's cheek. Jack raised his gun, but Daniel's movements blocked Jack's shot. He didn't dare fire. He turned to find Calder, hoping that he could intimidate the man, but he'd disappeared.

"Son of a --" Jack whirled at Daniel's growled invective. The guy Daniel had elbowed in the gut now held the muzzle of his weapon at the archeologist's head. Daniel froze, his hands fisted, his breath coming hard and fast.

"Lower your weapon, colonel," said one of the men. Slowly, Jack did as they said, Daniel's eyes upbraiding him for caving. "Disarm yourself." Jack tossed the guns aside. Escape would have to come later.

"I don't think you'll be making any reports," Calder said, walking around in front of him, keeping well back so that he couldn't be taken hostage. Jack glared at him, and Calder seemed almost to preen at the attention. More guards came in, moving towards Jack. Turning towards them, Calder said, "Make arrangements to have their friends picked up."

Jack grabbed his radio. "Carter, Teal'c, get back to the gate pronto! Hostile territo--!" Two men grabbed him, effectively ending his communication. He lashed out at the one on his left with a vicious punch to the throat. As that fellow fell, Jack turned and administered a roundhouse punch to his friend. The one on the ground scissored his legs, sweeping Jack's feet out from under him. Jack landed with a thump on his back, knocking the air out of him. The one he'd punched in the throat rolled on top of him and delivered a stunning blow to his face. His companion anchored his legs and a third man came up and started removing his gear.

Calder watched all of this from the sidelines.

"No!" Daniel shouted from somewhere out of sight. Jack craned his neck to see what was happening and saw them dragging the archeologist out of the room. "Let go!"

"Where are you taking him?" Jack demanded angrily.

"You'll find out soon enough," Calder said. "Take him away."

"Damnit!" Jack growled as they dragged him to his feet, binding his wrists behind him. "This won't gain you anything. My people won't trade with you after this!"

Calder didn't respond. The guards dragged him to a small room with plain blue walls, threw him in and shut the door behind him. He turned immediately and went to the door, but there wasn't so much as a window in it's surface.

"Daniel!" he called, then pressed his ear to the door to see if he could hear anything. No sound reached his ears.

What story was Calder going to feed Hammond? Jack kicked the door, and then turned his attention to searching the room for anything that might be helpful in effecting an escape.

Chapter Eight

According to his watch, Daniel had spent twelve hours in the little blue room when someone finally came and pulled him out. The watch was the only gear they hadn't taken. They'd even taken his shoes and his glasses, which left him feeling particularly vulnerable when two of those soldier types came and took him out of his cell.

They each grabbed an arm and walked him along the hallway at a swift pace.

"Where's Jack?" he asked. They didn't say anything. "What's happened to my friends?" They acted as if he hadn't spoken. "Does either of you have a name?" More silence. "I'm Daniel, and I could walk faster if I had shoes on." As they approached the end of the hall, a door opened on the right. Daniel gulped apprehensively. "So, what's in there?"

They didn't say anything, just kept him moving forward, through the door. It appeared to be some kind of medical facility, but the examination bed was currently vertical, and it had straps to hold the patient down. Daniel really didn't like the look of that. He pulled back, but the guards had no intention of letting his reactions alter their plans. They forced him forward, turned him around and strapped him to the bed. After tilting it so that it was flat, they stepped back away from him, leaving him in that position.

As soon as he was restrained, a doctor came in. "Hi," Daniel said. "My name's Daniel." The woman ignored his words and began looking at his face, using vaguely familiar instruments to examine his eyes and ears, inside his nose. "You know, I'm a person, not a slab of meat." She pulled his mouth open and looked at his teeth, then at his throat. Daniel reminded himself that biting her would not make friends, and might get him gagged, which would put an end to the whole attempting to get her to see him as a person gig.

She moved down his neck to check on his glands, and Daniel began to grow a little impatient. "My friends, have you seen them? Jack's an older guy, kind of mouthy. Sam's a nice blond woman, very smart and kind of sweet. Then there's Teal'c, you couldn't forget Teal'c if you saw him. Quite memorable."

She turned away from the table and picked something up. Lifting it over him, she screwed some kind of ampoule onto what looked like a syringe. "What's that?" he asked. "What are you doing?" She bent and jabbed it into the muscle of his upper arm. "What are you doing to me? What is that?" The world grew even more blurry. "What are ... you ..." His mind grew fuzzy and he thumped his head back against the exam table. "Damn!" he murmured as he sank into oblivion.

***

Brenna entered Administrator Calder's office with some measure of apprehension. Other than the usual reports, she had only been summoned to the administrator's office once or twice in the past, and it had never been for anything good.

The administrator was sitting at his desk, eating plums. Her mouth watered. It had been years since she'd eaten anything that fresh, but she shoved that thought from her mind with stern discipline. It wasn't her place to eat such things. She was only a worker, lucky enough to have been singled out for a higher post, but still only a worker.

She walked in and stood the prescribed distance away from his desk so as to offer him the respect due to his rank. He smiled benevolently at her, and some of her apprehension eased.

"Brenna, I have some new workers for you," he said, and she blinked with surprise. They rarely got new workers, occasional transfers from the mines, but new ... and why would he be telling her directly rather than sending the information through normal channels?

"Yes, administrator?" she said.

"These are unusual," he said. "You have heard of the outsiders who came to trade with us?" She nodded. "They have presumed to disapprove of the way we run our society, and as such, have been condemned. They will need to be stamped, but you must know what they are so that you can be prepared for possible problems." He placed a stack of files carefully on the edge of his desk and then nodded. She walked forward and took the files.

"Outsiders?" she asked, looking up at him in surprise. "Will not their people come looking for them?"

"Perhaps," the administrator said with a hint of impatience, "but they will not know where to look, and we will see that they are not found." She nodded, feeling chastened and more than a little appalled that she had dared to question the administrator's judgment. "This will take a firm hand, Brenna. You were chosen for your post because you are intelligent and strong of will. You will need both those qualities to stay on top of this situation. I do not want things getting out of hand."

"Of course, administrator," Brenna said. "I will see to it that they are kept under control."

"But don't make it obvious," he said immediately. "Do not set them apart from the others in any way."

"Of course not, administrator," she said. Looking down at the files, she glanced at the names. "I thought that there were four outsiders."

"There are. One of them will be serving in a different capacity."

She nodded dumbly. If it had been anyone but the administrator, she would have described his expression as malicious pleasure.

"Take those files and review them," Administrator Calder said. "Then let me know when you're ready to stamp them. I feel certain you will be able to determine the appropriate personalities for each of them." She nodded and started to leave. "Oh, and Brenna?" She stopped, waiting. "One of them, Teal'c, is an alien. If you have too much trouble with him, you may kill him."

Her eyes widened and she bowed. "Yes, administrator." She left and returned to her office, mind whirling with uncertainty. Kill him? He couldn't mean it. And why had the administrator take such a personal interest in this case?

Opening the files, she read through them. Her heart was troubled. Never before had she felt so uneasy about an order given to her by an administrator. She was pleased that he had such confidence in her, but this seemed wrong somehow. It was one thing to take their own criminals and make them workers, but these were people from the outside.

She shook her head and banished those thoughts from her mind. Administrator Calder knew what was best for the city. She was a worker, it was not her place to question his decisions.

***

When Daniel woke up, his head felt surprisingly clear. Sedatives, the kind Janet used at any rate, always left him feeling muzzy and weird. He opened his eyes and the light stabbed at them, and he squeezed them shut with a muffled curse. Taking a deep breath, he opened them to a squint and sat up slowly. His head only hurt when he moved it too quickly or opened his eyes too wide, so he'd have to avoid doing either.

He was not back in the blue room, as he'd half-expected, nor was he still in that medical examination room. The walls were a pleasant pale green in shade, and there was a small window opposite the bed. The simple light fixture overhead was flush to the ceiling, nothing to break off and use as a weapon. As the headache dimmed a bit, Daniel looked around a little more closely at his surroundings. The room was small. He lay on a narrow bed that was fairly comfortable. His clothes ... that was the first shock ... he wasn't wearing any.

The bed had no sheets, and there was nothing in the room he could use to cover himself. He stood up nervously and walked over to the window. He appeared to be fairly high up in the administration building. He had a great view of the city from here, but that really seemed highly unimportant. Where were Jack and Sam and Teal'c? Were they in small rooms somewhere naked? What was happening? When was rescue coming?

A sound behind him made him tense, and he turned around, exchanging the vulnerability of facing his captors nude for that of standing with his back to an unknown threat. The lesser of two evils and all that. One of those guards stood there, fully clothed. "Administrator Calder wishes to see you."

"Can I have something to put on?" he asked.

"You'll have to ask the administrator," the guard said. "Come along."

Faced with the choice of walking on his own two feet or being dragged along, Daniel opted for the most dignity possible in the situation. He followed the guard out of the room, and another guard took up a position behind him, like he was some kind of threat in his current condition.

Something struck him as they took him along the hallway. This didn't resemble the public parts of the administration building, but he was almost certain that the angle of the view he'd seen from his window indicated that they were in that building. They passed a doorway into a kitchen where people were working, and Daniel flushed with humiliation. No one had turned to look, but it hadn't occurred to him that anyone but the guards and Calder might see him like this.

They passed several other open rooms, living areas, and Daniel came to realize that he seemed to be in someone's private quarters. Why he couldn't begin to imagine. A young girl, probably twelve or so, turned a corner ahead of him carrying a stack of linens. She walked down the hall, passing right by him without looking at him or commenting on his nakedness. Daniel wanted to fall through the floor, but he wondered what the local taboos were concerning nudity within the home.

They took him to a room that resembled an office. No one was there, but it seemed to be their destination. They walked him to the other end of the room, away from the door. "Kneel here," one of the guards said, pointing to a cushion that sat at the foot of a chair. Daniel blinked at him. "Do we need to bind you?" he asked.

Unwillingly, wondering what in the hell was going on, he sank down to his knees. The guards drew back to the door, which put them behind him. He looked around, then down at his knees, wondering what was coming next. The door opened and he turned his head again to see who was coming in.

Administrator Calder entered. It looked like he'd shed his tunic away from work, for he was wearing the same pants with a white shirt that had long, full sleeves that hung open at the wrist and a keyhole neckline. Daniel wondered what the significance of the off duty look might be. He started to get up, but when one of the guards moved forward, he sank down with a gulp.

"Where are the others?" he asked.

"They have been sent below," Calder said, walking over and sitting down in the chair. Daniel was forced to look up at him to see his face as he continued to speak. He really didn't like this submissive and exposed position. "To join the workers there. I am certain they will prove to be most productive."

"Right," Daniel said. Clearly Calder didn't know Jack, Sam and Teal'c. They wouldn't be there more than half a day before they'd overthrown whatever security was down there. Then they'd find him, and they'd all go home. His mind avoided the question of why they were down there while he was up here.

"I gather from the pages that were assigned to you that you learned much from your visits to our museums. You know that we reward criminals and subversives with perpetual servitude." Daniel nodded. "You and your companions are troublemakers, and have been dealt with as such. Your three friends will serve the whole city, as is just since they attempted to destroy it."

"We did no such thing!" Daniel protested, rising to his feet. The guards came forward and forced him back to his knees.

Calder watched with an unpleasant smile. When Daniel was restrained again, he reached out and stroked through his hair. "Oh, but you did," he said softly. "Your views, your judgment threaten our existence, and that is something that, as administrator, I am sworn to prevent."

The guards were still holding him down, but Daniel glared up at Calder. "We said we wouldn't trade with you. That's not threatening, that's just our choice."

Calder shrugged. "Your view on your own actions is unimportant," he said. "You have been judged, you have been sentenced. Your friends will serve the city. You will serve me."

Daniel blinked. "No, I won't," he said.

Calder smiled, and it was that supercilious look that Daniel had already grown to dislike. "You really have no choice. The deed had already been made out. You're mine."

Daniel shook his head. "I'm not a slave."

"You are a worker," Calder said. "Be glad that you have not been assigned to work beneath the city. It is a difficult life, with a consequently short lifespan. I do believe your friend O'Neill is the oldest man down there now."

Daniel closed his eyes, lowered his head and took a deep breath. They wouldn't stay down there long. They'd get out and they'd come up here and get Daniel out, and then --

"Don't hope for rescue," Calder said, putting his hand under Daniel's chin and pulling his head up. "I told O'Neill that we have a civilized means of keeping our workers in line." There was a sinking feeling in Daniel's gut. "By now, they don't even remember you exist."

He stared at Calder in shock. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Calder looked up at the guards. "Release him." Both men let go of Daniel, who shifted uneasily away from his captor and crossed his arms. "Most of the workers have lived all their lives below. They've never seen the surface, they've never even seen the ventilation shafts that you and O'Neill so foolishly explored." Daniel listened avidly. Knowledge was never wasted, even if it was gained in unexpected ways. Calder continued his chilling explanation. "They believe that they are all there is, the workers who toil in the mines, those that keep the power plant operational, they believe that they are surviving the ice age in the only way they can."

"I see," Daniel said. "So?"

"Well, when a new worker is made, we can't afford to have him informing those who have lived their whole lives below that there is a city up here, full of light and beauty, so we developed a process to prevent that. It's called 'stamping.' A personality profile is matched to the condemned and then forced over the memory and personality that already exists. At this point, three new workers have joined the power plant. They remember being in the mines, but they don't remember the ring or ever living on other worlds. They certainly don't remember each other, or you."

"You can't!" Daniel breathed. "Surely not!"

"I have already composed a suitable speech of condolence to your General Hammond explaining that the four of you foolishly insisted on examining the ice fields. I doubt very much that they will have too much difficulty believing it, and since no one can survive such a trip ..."

"It won't work," Daniel said.

"I think it will," Calder replied. "In the meantime, you are mine to do with as I like."

Daniel shook his head. "I am not property."

"Believe what you will," Calder said casually, placing a proprietary hand on Daniel's cheek. He pulled away, glaring at the bastard. Calder smiled, then looked over at the guards. "Take him to my chamber and prepare him for my use."

Daniel launched himself to his feet, not willing to give in tamely to whatever that meant. He shoved past the guards and made for the door, but one of them tripped him and he stumbled forward. They caught his arms, but he didn't stop struggling until one of them bent his left arm up behind his back in a bone breaking hold. They dragged him back out into the hall and down several passages to an opulent bedroom. Some of the finest fabrics he'd yet seen covered the bed and other furniture, and the rugs on the hardwood floor were fabulous.

The wooden floor had to be old, they hadn't seen anything sufficiently large to produce such fine wood on such a scale. The hangings ...

Daniel couldn't keep distracting himself with observations as they took him to the bed and forced him up onto it. "No!" he shouted.

They turned him over onto his back and strapped his arms and legs down. Daniel lay panting, unable to stop himself from pulling at his bonds. This couldn't mean what it looked like. He didn't want to think too closely about what it looked like.

Jack would never let something like this happen to him. Jack was down beneath the surface with no memory that Daniel even existed, if Calder could be believed. They strapped a collar around his neck that held him tightly down to the bed. If he pulled on it at all, it choked him. Then they left the room, and the door closed behind them.

Daniel closed his eyes. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't going to believe this was happening. The door opened, sending a ripple of air across his naked body. Daniel shuddered.

Footsteps moved around the room, but Daniel couldn't lift his head to see what was happening, not with this collar. He didn't want to speak because his voice wouldn't be steady, and he wasn't about to give Calder that satisfaction. He tried not to imagine what might be going on as he heard drawers open and shut, cupboards open and close. A low chuckle told him that the other person in the room was, in fact, Calder.

Eventually, far sooner than Daniel wanted them to, the footsteps approached the bed. A hand reached out and stroked through the hair just above his genitals and he tried to kick with less than useful results. Another chuckle rewarded his efforts. "You will be fun," Calder said, sitting down on the bed and leaning over him.

Daniel glared up at him, trying to keep the fear and desperation he felt out of his expression.

"It's been awhile since I had a personal servant," Calder remarked, stroking Daniel's chest. Daniel tried futilely to pull away. "I don't just choose any comely youth, you see. I prefer a man with a few years on him, a man who has been free. It makes the possession of him so much more pleasing."

"You're sick," Daniel growled.

"And you are an enigma. A man with such a gentle nature who fights like a tiger when cornered." Abruptly Calder shifted to straddle him at the waist. Daniel's mind had refused to acknowledge that there was no clothing on what of the man he could see, but now he was relieved to discover that he was wearing pants. They were loose, though, and Daniel could feel the other man's penis growing to erection against his belly.

"This is wrong," Daniel said, and his voice trembled slightly.

Calder ignored his words. "What does he call you when you're alone together?" he asked leaning familiarly close, pressing his erection between their bodies. Daniel grimaced and turned his head away. Calder leaned closer still, his breath tickling and warming Daniel's ear. "I wish now that I had ordered a closer surveillance done on your rooms." Calder put a hand on the side of his face and turned it back so that they were mere centimeters apart. "What does he call you?"

"I don't know what you mean," Daniel said, though he suspected that he did. He was hanging onto his calm with every bit of energy he had left.

Calder slapped him lightly on the face, and Daniel blinked at the sudden sting. "O'Neill, what does he call you when you ..."

"We don't have that kind of relationship," Daniel said, cutting him off.

Calder's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me. I had my security staff peek in on your rooms from time to time to make sure you were still in them. I've seen the two of you lying together." Daniel's gut clenched. "He never lets you out of his sight. I want to know, what does he call you?"

Daniel grit his teeth and looked away.

Calder hit him across the face, much harder this time. "Look at me," he ordered. Daniel took a deep breath and turned back to face him. "Answer my question."

"He calls me by my name," Daniel said.

"You have more name than you need," Calder said. "What exactly does he call you?"

It wasn't worth fighting it. "Daniel."

"Daniel," Calder breathed, leaning closer, his lips actually brushing Daniel's cheek. "Daniel. You're mine, Daniel, not his. Not anymore."

Daniel's hands were clenched into fists above his head. Only long practice at feeling helpless enabled him to keep from breaking down. He turned his face away from Calder's lips. "There's nothing to be gained from this," Daniel said, his voice shaking.

"Wrong, Daniel," Calder said, his tongue darting out to taste Daniel's skin just behind the hinge of his jaw. Daniel twitched with revulsion. "There is great pleasure to be gained."

Rocking his hips sideways, Daniel tried to throw Calder off. The other man was caught off balance and fell to the side. Immediately, Daniel started working his hands on the ropes, trying to get free. He doubted that Calder was much of a fighter. He might be able to knock him out if he got loose, and that would be the first step towards escape.

All the pulling he'd done earlier must have had an effect, because he actually managed to get his right hand loose. Calder sat up again, and Daniel cold cocked him. He thumped down to the bed and then slid off the side. Daniel started working feverishly at the collar. One-handed, he felt at quite a disadvantage, but with it still on he couldn't reach his left wrist with his right hand without choking himself.

He continued to worm away with his left while he fumbled at the collar with his right. He had limited time. Calder wouldn't stay out for long, and if he couldn't manage to gag him or something before then, he'd have half the house in the room with them before Daniel could get loose.

The tie on his left hand came loose before the collar did, and Daniel started wrenching at the thing, finally getting it open. He sat up and peered over the edge of the bed. Calder lay on the floor, no longer out but looking pretty groggy. Daniel cast about for something he could use to gag him. There wasn't time. He bent his knees and started to yank on the ropes around his left ankle.

"Guards!" Daniel flinched at the sudden yell and began to try harder to get his ankles loose. It was a losing battle. "Guards!" Calder ran to a panel on the wall and slapped his hand on it. "Guards!" he called again. The door opened just as Daniel got his right ankle free and began to work on his left. The guards were on him before he could do much more than tug ineffectually at the knot. He kicked the first one that came at him squarely in the gonads. The man fell red-faced to the floor. Someone grabbed his left arm and he swung around to deliver a punch to whatever he could reach. While he was occupied there, another guard grabbed his right leg to keep him from kicking.

Daniel yanked his leg back, trying to pull free, but the guard held firm. He landed a few more solid blows before they overpowered him and bore him back to the bed. Once they had him held down firmly, Calder walked up and peered down at him, eyes narrowed with rage. Daniel noticed with grim satisfaction that he did stay back a bit. "Take him back to his room," Calder ordered. "I will decide on his punishment later."

With a few precise jerks on the rope, they freed his left leg and dragged him out of the room. Daniel tried to kick and knee, but there were three of them. They got him to his room, opened the door and shoved him through. He landed on his face, but scrambled back to his feet. The door was already shut behind him.

He glared at the sturdy panel and took several deep breaths. He looked around and wondered exactly how he was supposed to relieve himself or get cleaned up in this tiny space. He wanted to scrub his face and neck and every part of him that bastard had touched. He began to examine every inch of the walls, looking for anything that might be different, might indicate a panel that led to sanitary facilities.

His body had begun to shake, a reaction to the adrenaline crash he was barely staving off. That had gained him nothing but a few bruises and Calder's anger. A sly part of his mind informed him that it had gained him one other thing. There was great pleasure in having knocked the bastard silly.

After several minutes, he finally found what he was looking for. A part of the wall recessed slightly and slid away to reveal a sink and small toilet. There was only one tap, and the water was tepid at best, but it was better than nothing. He washed his face and hands, used the facilities and then stepped back. As soon as he was out of range, they closed up with a snap, leaving him once more in a featureless box with a bed and a tiny window.

Daniel could only hope that Calder was lying to him. If he wasn't, they were in for a long stay, because Hammond wouldn't risk another team if he suspected foul play, and if he didn't, then he wouldn't be looking for them. He'd believe them to be dead.

Chapter Nine

Hours had passed, nearly a full day, and Jack still didn't know what was happening to the rest of his team, or what was going to happen to him. In twenty-twenty hindsight, he saw now that he should have checked in with Hammond first before confronting Calder, but worrying over that now would achieve nothing. He'd have plenty of time to agonize over his stupidity when Daniel and the others were safe.

The door opened and two of the guards came in. He gave them an unfriendly grin. "Another medical exam, or something even more fun?"

One of them leveled a weapon at him. "Turn around."

Jack did as he was told and the second one placed cuffs on his wrists that bound them tightly together. His elbows were not going to be happy with him later. "You could probably yank that a little tighter and turn me inside out," he said.

They each took one of his arms and led him out of the cell. He went with them quietly, alive to any possible escape route or sign of the others. The doors all seemed to be automatic, which could make things harder. They hadn't yet identified just what caused them to open, but Carter had theorized that the more secure locations used some kind of proximity signaling devices.

He didn't have one of those, and he might have difficulty identifying one without help.

They ushered him into what looked like an interview room. There was a table with a chair on either side. One chair looked quite comfortable, ergonomically designed and well padded. Needless to say, that was not the one the guards guided him to. His chair was of a different breed altogether. The back was narrow, allowing the guards to guide his bound arms around it, which they did. They then attached the cuffs to some kind of bracket just below the seat, forcing him to sit leaning back. He glared at the guards as they left him there. He wondered if this was the standard set up or if he was being accorded special treatment.

A man walked in pushing something that looked remarkably like an AV cart. Without looking at Jack once, he positioned the cart at the end of the table and left. This wasn't exactly filling Jack with warm fuzzy feelings. What was it he was going to get to watch? He doubted he'd like whatever it was.

A few moments later Calder walked in. Jack strained against the cuffs and the bracket, but he wasn't going anywhere. Calder walked calmly over, picked up something from the cart, and sat down in the comfortable chair. He smiled and Jack wanted to punch his smug face in, but it almost looked like someone had beaten him to it.

Before he could pop off a snide comment to that effect, Calder spoke. "Colonel O'Neill, the Council of Justice has conferred on you and your companions, and found you guilty of subversion."

"We didn't actually do anything!" Jack protested.

"You and Dr. Jackson trespassed on a secure facility --"

"There were no locks, so I would hardly call it a secure facility."

Calder raised a hand. "You're not here to defend yourself, colonel, sentence has been passed and is already being executed."

"What sentence?"

"You, Major Carter and the alien Teal'c have been sentenced to hard labor. You will join those you watched below the surface."

Jack blinked. So they might have to do some work while they figured out how to escape. "What about Daniel?"

"Dr. Jackson is being placed separately," Calder said unctuously. Jack's eyes widened. "He will be in a considerably safer and more pleasant environment on the surface."

"Oh?" Jack said, his tone inviting elaboration.

Calder smiled insincerely. "We'll get to that later. The term of your labor shall be the rest of your natural life. Your General Hammond has already been informed that you were foolish enough to insist on a visit to the ice fields outside the city, and we are currently searching for all four of you, but there is little hope for your survival."

Hammond wouldn't buy it, or at least Jack didn't think he would. He would have told the general if he'd been planning to go outside the domes.

Apparently his glare pleased Calder, because the smile became more sincere. "You needn't be worrying about escape. Within four hours, you will no longer wish to leave us."

"Like hell!"

"You asked what our secret was, and I said I'd show you," Calder replied. He pressed a button on the thing he'd picked up off the cart, and a screen lit up onto a dark, dingy looking room. Carter lay on her back on a bed, wearing reddish pajama-looking things.

A dark-haired woman walked over from somewhere out of the camera's view and put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently. "Thera, wake up, it's time for your first shift."

Carter blinked and looked up at her, and Jack expected the dynamo he'd known for four years to whack that woman back and start looking for escape. Instead, she blinked and said, "It is? I didn't mean to oversleep."

"You didn't oversleep, Thera, you were sedated for the journey. You remember, the trip from the mines is a difficult one, and you became ill in the vehicle."

Jack watched in shock as Carter started to nod. "Right, yes, I ... I do remember." Her eyes looked vague and confused, but she seemed to be buying into the nonsense. "But it's time for me to go to work?"

"It is." The woman stepped back and helped Carter to her feet. "Now, I am Brenna, supervisor of this plant. You are now a member of Section 23."

Carter smiled happily. It was an eerie thing. It was as if they'd stripped her of herself, and this meager identity ... member of Section 23 ... made her feel like a person again. "It is an honor to serve," she said.

"Come along, let me introduce you to Kegan. She'll be training you." They walked out of sight of the camera and Calder turned off the image. Jack stared at the blank screen in horror. He wanted to believe that she was playing along with it, but he couldn't. It was too real, too genuine, and he knew Carter well enough to recognize playacting when he saw it.

He turned to face Calder who was gazing at him with immense satisfaction. "Teal'c will be processed next and then you." Jack shook his head. Maybe it wouldn't work on Teal'c. It was a feeble hope, but it was better than nothing. As if reading his mind, Calder said, "If he proves problematic, we may have to eliminate him, so I hope that isn't the case. He promises to be a strong worker." Jack tried to launch himself at Calder, but only succeeded in wrenching his shoulders painfully. Calder laughed, and Jack glared daggers at him. "You will join them. The process takes some time, but I'm starting you later. There's something ... else you need to see before then." There was a glint in Calder's eyes that made him apprehensive.

"What?" he asked. Calder pressed a different button, and the screen came on to a fancy bedroom with enormous windows that showed a vast view of the city. "What's this?" he asked, puzzled.

"Just watch, colonel," Calder said, leaning back as if he was about to see something very enjoyable. Acid was churning in Jack's gut, and he felt as if something in his mind was putting two and two together but not telling him the answer. Then, the door opened and two soldiers came in half-supporting, half-dragging a naked and very dopey-looking Daniel.

"What the hell?" Jack felt his arms start to tremble, he was straining against the bonds so hard. "What's going on?" Calder didn't speak, but he didn't need to. It was all too obvious what was going on.

They got Daniel up on the bed and laid him out flat on his back. He tried to push them away, but it was clear that he was drugged. His movements lacked coordination and force. Jack watched, rage burning a hole in his gut. The guards pulled silver chains out of pockets in the corners of the bed. There appeared to be some kind of padding in the cuffs that they clasped around his wrists and ankles, but when they stepped back, Daniel lay spread-eagled with a leather collar around his neck that held his head down to the bed. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated to an enormous extent. The guards left him alone on the bed, fully restrained. He pulled at the chains and gradually began to come of out the drugged haze.

Jack turned to Calder, who was watching avidly. "This isn't going to gain you anything," he said. "Three workers isn't that much to add to your efforts down there." He tried to ignore Daniel's increasingly frantic movements and the unhappy sounds he was making.

Calder smiled lazily at him. "No, I suppose not," he said, rising. "But, as I was telling Daniel earlier, it's been awhile since I had a personal servant."

Jack stared at him. "You?" he growled venomously.

"He has been deeded to me, yes." Calder smiled broadly. "You three are the property of the city. Daniel Jackson is my personal property."

A cold fury settled over Jack. Struggling now would not help in any way, but he was going to get away, he was going to make that bastard pay. Calder put the remote down on the cart without turning the machine off and left the room. Jack was alone with an image of his best friend, the man he loved, naked, bound to another man's bed, waiting to be ...

He shook his head, trying to blot the word out of his mind, but he couldn't stop watching.

About ten minutes passed, and then the door to that bedroom opened. Daniel froze on the bed, but the collar prevented him from looking to see who had come in. Jack could see all too easily, though. Calder was wearing nothing but a pair of loose, drawstring pants.

"Who is it?" Daniel's voice was still slurred a bit.

Calder chuckled. "It's your owner, Daniel."

"Chains, now, huh?" Daniel said, his tone full of disgust. "Do I scare you?"

"I must confess," Calder said, drawing closer to Daniel, "that you're a man of great resource." He brought his hand up to the bruise on his cheek that Jack had noticed earlier. Way to go, Daniel! "But I doubt even Teal'c could break those chains."

"Why the dope if you're so convinced I can't break loose?"

"I'd rather you weren't damaged before we start," Calder replied. "And it's clear that my guards have difficulty controlling you without violence."

Jack wanted a P-90 and Calder in range so he could spray the room with the bastard's blood. He didn't want Daniel damaged before they started? What did that mean about damage after they were ... an involuntary growl escaped his throat.

Calder had reached the side of the bed, carefully not obstructing Jack's view. He stroked Daniel's belly, causing him to twist and try to get away, but he had nowhere to go. "Do you have an idea how disgusting you are?" Daniel asked. His voice was coming clearer now, probably a sign that the drugs had almost completely worn off.

"You're the broad-minded one, I thought," Calder said. "This is a part of our culture."

"That doesn't make it okay," Daniel growled. "Plenty of cultures do vile things to their members."

Calder leaned across Daniel, and pressed his lips to the skin above his heart. "You will acclimate. You have no choice."

"Never!" Daniel snarled.

"Do you realize that somewhere in this building, your colonel O'Neill is helpless and vulnerable, and that I have the power of life and death over him? The same is true of the others, truth be told, but I know that he is special to you."

Jack grit his teeth. Damn the bastard. There wasn't anything Daniel wouldn't --

"Let them go," Daniel said, his voice curiously calm. "Let them go and I'll ... I'll do whatever you want. I'll stay willingly."

Calder sat back, looking startled, and Jack's jaw dropped. "Why would I do that?" Calder asked. "I'm no fool. They'd go back and then return with large numbers of troops. No, Daniel, I don't need your sacrifice, noble though it is. I have you, and for what I want to do, I don't need your willing submission." Jack was going to have to talk to Daniel later about this whole self-sacrifice thing.

Daniel turned his head away from the man who was leaning over him, and Jack could see his eyes. Even at this distance, he could see the desperate horror. Calder's hand was stroking up and down his torso, from the base of his neck to his crotch.

"Who do you belong to?" Calder asked.

"Myself," Daniel said.

Calder shifted up to his knees and delivered a hard, back handed slap to Daniel's face. "Who do you belong to?" he demanded.

Jack found himself mentally begging Daniel not to be a stubborn fool, to just say it and make the prick happy.

There was a pause, and then Daniel spoke. "You have a deed that tells you the answer you want to hear. Why ask me?"

"I will not grant you clothing till you acknowledge my ownership of you," Calder said.

Jack could see Daniel breathing slowly and deeply to maintain his calm. "Fine," he said. "Some scholars claim that modesty is a culturally created notion, that clothing started out as mere decoration. I can go without decoration if you insist."

Damn him, Jack thought. Damn his brilliant, everlastingly stubborn mind.

Calder moved suddenly away from Daniel. He walked over to a cupboard and opened it. Then he glanced in the direction of the camera. Jack's hair stood on end at the malice in that look.

He pulled out a box about a foot long, six inches wide and maybe two inches deep and carried it across to the bedside table. "Tell me, Daniel," he said, sitting down again. "When O'Neill takes you, does he do it from behind or in front?"

Jack gaped. What the hell was that about?

"I told you, we don't have that kind of relationship," Daniel said. "You've misread --"

Calder administered another slap. "And I told you not to lie to me!" Daniel turned his head back to glare at him. "Does he take you from in front or behind?"

Jack didn't believe what he was hearing. Calder knew ... or thought he knew ... what was going on between him and Daniel. What had he done? What impression had he given that had sent the bastard down this path?

"He doesn't 'take me' at all!" Daniel snapped.

"Fine!" Calder leaned close and wrapped his fingers in Daniel's hair. "I plan to 'take you' in as many ways as possible."

Jack wished he could turn his head away, wished he could just not watch, but he couldn't ignore what was happening. He couldn't, with this in front of him, pretend he didn't know what was going on. He watched. He heard. And he seethed.

Chapter Ten

Daniel clenched his teeth and glared at his tormentor. There were no words to describe the utter contempt he felt for the man, but there was also no way, at the moment, that he was getting out of this situation on his own. Calder was clearly determined to get back at Jack through him, though it seemed odd to be getting back at someone who wouldn't know about it and theoretically couldn't remember enough to be upset about it if he did.

Calder was stroking his hands down Daniel's ribcage. The sensation made his skin crawl. His attacker lifted his leg and straddled him again, placing his hands on Daniel's pectoral muscles. "I had considered having you shaved, but I decided against it. You're not so hairy that it's unpleasant." Daniel blinked at him a couple of times. So, Calder didn't like hairy men. That was something he didn't need to know.

He gulped. The collar was feeling more and more restrictive as time went by, something almost like claustrophobia was building. He tried to ignore it. Mentioning that it was bothering him wouldn't help. Calder would probably like it.

Questing fingers found and pinched his nipples. Daniel gasped, and his fists clenched. Calder twirled the nubs in his fingers, twisting them just to the point of pain and then releasing. Calder's cock was resting against his belly and had begun to rise again, growing warm and heavy against Daniel's body.

Calder bent low over him, and once more Daniel could feel that offensive thing pressed between them, growing harder at the contact. "Do you take him in your mouth?" Calder asked, his face close to Daniel's.

Daniel turned away. He was never going to convince Calder that he didn't have a sexual relationship with Jack, and trying to persuade him would only make things worse.

"I don't think you're quite ready for that with me, in any case," Calder said, and Daniel closed his eyes. Damn right he wasn't. He wasn't ready for any of this. He wasn't ever going to be ready. He wanted to get away from this planet, away from this utterly sane villain who thought that raping a man was quite acceptable, as long as that man could be considered a criminal by whatever stretch of law he'd used. There probably weren't many on this planet who would think twice about it if they were told.

Calder dropped his head to Daniel's shoulder and began to bite his way down to his chest. Daniel shuddered as those lips and teeth touched his skin. There wasn't much moisture, but it felt in Daniel's mind as if he were leaving a trail of slime behind as he bit and sucked and licked. He wanted to shove Calder off, but he couldn't use his arms, and simply tipping him off as he'd done earlier wouldn't help.

The teeth found a nipple and bit down. Daniel gasped at the sudden pain. Calder's hands started moving lower, slipping underneath Daniel. Fingers kneaded his ass, and he was clenching his jaw so tightly that he'd started to have a tension headache. Consciously, he relaxed his jaw.

Calder shifted lower, his penis was now pressing against Daniel's through the fabric of his pants. He grimaced at the contact and tried to imagine himself someplace else. Abydos, that cell on Klorel's ship, anywhere but here.

Hands pulled the cheeks of his butt apart and a finger tickled at his anus. "No!" he growled without volition. "Stop it, you -- gah!" Calder bit down on his other nipple, harder this time, and Daniel cried out.

Calder chuckled, and the vibration passed through his teeth to Daniel's body, making him want to throw the bastard off. He focused on keeping his jaw loose, so that he wouldn't break a tooth or something crazy like that.

The finger at his anus began to massage the opening, and Daniel tried to sit up, his instincts overcoming his knowledge that he couldn't. He caught his throat on the collar and began to cough. With each contraction of the muscles of his throat, his gorge rose till he had to swallow bile. Calder ignored his difficulties, and Daniel wondered if he'd have to suffocate for Calder to think there was a problem.

If Calder thought that Daniel's body was going to relax for him, he had a rude awakening coming. Somehow, though, Daniel didn't think he was quite that stupid. He was probably just enjoying the shudders that were running through his captive. He seemed to actively enjoy Daniel's reactions of disgust and hatred.

The hands withdrew from his ass, and Calder leaned up across him, grabbing the case he'd put down on the table. Opening it beside Daniel on the bed, he pulled something out and then snapped it shut again and put it on the floor. He placed something cold on Daniel's belly, it felt like a jar of some kind, and then got off the bed. Daniel turned his head, but he couldn't tell exactly what was happening. His breath began to come more quickly, and he felt panic stirring.

The bed shifted between his legs, and then he felt skin brushing his. Calder had removed his pants, which meant that he was naked now, too, which meant that the next step was a whole lot easier to achieve, and Daniel really didn't want to go there. And now he was babbling in his head. Not a good sign.

Calder's penis bobbed against Daniel's thigh, and Daniel tried to slow his breathing. Panic would get him nowhere, especially since it was increasing the claustrophobic reaction he was having to the collar. Then the other man leaned up further, and Daniel felt their penises brush together and he wanted to scream, but he clamped his jaw tight to keep the words in. Calder wouldn't understand most of them anyway.

Grabbing a bolster, he stuffed it under Daniel's ass, lifting him up off the bed at a sharp angle that put uncomfortable pressure on the collar at his neck and played havoc with Daniel's attempts to calm himself down. Calder picked up the jar and Daniel heard something that sounded like he was removing a screw-on lid.

The lid hit the floor and Daniel wondered what was in the jar. He heard hands rubbing slickly together and realized abruptly what it was. He yanked at the chains on his wrists and ankles, trying to get away despite the fact that he knew he couldn't. Calder's laugh filled him with impotent rage, and then he felt slippery fingers between his legs, reaching for and then lubricating his anus. For a minute or so, Calder merely massaged the opening, but then a finger popped in, making Daniel jerk with surprise and revulsion.

First one finger, then two, pushing and stretching. Daniel was breathing shallowly, trying to keep from choking. It hurt, but he didn't feel any tearing. Daniel got the distinct impression that the effort had less to do with preventing his pain than making sure that valuable property wasn't damaged.

Calder's other hand, still slick from the lubricant, began just above Daniel's pubis and started stroking up towards Daniel's chest, leaving a trail of the stuff behind. He reached the left nipple and began to rub it hard, pinching and pulling. Daniel twitched. Calder had to know he was causing pain, so evidently that was fun for him. Just Daniel's luck that the creep was a sadist. He just hoped he wasn't much of a sadist. Daniel had read some pretty nasty stuff in the history books, and there were places he didn't want to go.

After one final stretch that caused Daniel to wince with pain, Calder pulled his hand out of Daniel's anus and shifted so that he was kneeling between Daniel's legs. He leaned up over Daniel supporting himself with his elbows while continuing to tease his nipples roughly. Daniel could feel his breath on his face, and turned his head so that he didn't have to look at the man who was raping him.

He felt the tip of Calder's penis when it found the right spot and closed his eyes. He wanted this to stop. He wanted this to be a terrible dream. He wanted to wake up clutching at Jack and panicking, no matter how embarrassing it might be. He --

The head of Calder's penis penetrated him. Daniel's fists were clenched so tight they hurt. Now he was holding his jaws apart so firmly that it was causing a headache. He couldn't win for losing.

Calder shifted forward, further in, and he leaned down to grab Daniel's earlobe between his teeth. Daniel lifted his head just enough to thump his head into Calder's, pushing him away. There was a sharp pain in his ear, but he could live with that. Calder let out an angry grunt, but his focus was quickly drawn away by his continued movement in Daniel's ass. His penis was making its way up into Daniel's rectum, stretching and hurting, causing immense pressure, but not tearing. He continued to ease forward until he was all the way in, and Daniel felt like his organs were being pressed towards his neck, choking him further.

He was full. The pressure was getting to be almost unbearable.

"Daniel?" His eyes flipped open and he looked up to see Calder gazing down at him. "Open your mouth." Daniel shook his head. Calder smiled and said, "If you don't let me kiss you without biting or trying to hurt me, Daniel, the next man I breach will be O'Neill." Calder's voice was calm and the threat was completely believable.

Daniel gut roiled, but he swallowed then opened his mouth. Calder's tongue plunged in and he began to chew on Daniel's lips. His hips started rocking, little mini-thrusts inside Daniel's body, and Daniel wanted him to die.

Calder groaned suddenly, his tongue still claiming Daniel's mouth, when the first jets of semen pulsed into Daniel's body. Daniel tensed against this further invasion, and Calder moaned in appreciation. Daniel wanted to bite down on the tongue that was exploring his mouth, but the knowledge that Jack would pay for it if he did gave him the strength to resist the urge.

Daniel would give anything at this moment for Jack and Teal'c to come into the room and make short work of Calder. His imagination shied away from having Sam find him in this position, but Jack and Teal'c ... Daniel shuddered again. Sam wouldn't cope with this. The guys could let their anger out and it would do a lot of good. Sam would freak.

Calder's penis went flaccid and slipped out, leaving a sense of overstretched soreness and mess behind it. Giving Daniel's lower lip a last hard bite, Calder ended the kiss as well. He was smiling, and his eyes were full of satiated lust. "Who do you belong to?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

"Myself!" Daniel snapped. He worked his saliva and spat onto the bed beside him, trying to rid himself of the taste of his attacker.

Calder gave him a hard slap across the face that jerked his head sideways and caused his neck to pull bruisingly against the collar. "Wrong answer," he said in a low, malicious voice as Daniel turned back and glared at him. Then he got off the bed and Daniel heard a door open in the wall opposite the entrance. Presumably it was a bathroom.

Daniel breathed deeply, trying to regain control and trying not to imagine Calder's emissions reacting to gravity and the hips-upward position of his body by pooling in his intestines.

Maybe Calder would slip and break his head open in the bathroom. He could hope.

If Jack knew about this, Calder's life wouldn't be worth spit. But Jack didn't ... couldn't know ... and if he did know, it would mean nothing to him.

***

Jack sat in the chair fuming silently. It had been nearly ten minutes since Calder had struck Daniel -- again -- and then left him alone, still bound in a position designed to cater to Calder's pleasure.

Jack hadn't felt this helpless since he stood in the pediatric ICU watching his son die from an accidental gunshot wound he'd given himself with Jack's own gun. Jack shuddered that memory away and stared at the video screen. He could only imagine how Daniel must feel, but he knew he'd like to wring Calder's neck.

The questions Calder kept asking ... Jack wanted to throw him out those big picture windows and listen to see if he could hear the thud when the bastard hit bottom. Does O'Neill do this? Does he do that? The 'he' was almost capitalized the way Calder said it. Jack had certainly made an impact on Calder, but it was Daniel that was paying the price for his mistakes. That threat against him ... Daniel giving in to prevent Calder from attacking him ... even if he had the wrong idea about their relationship, Calder had clearly picked up on the strength of their friendship.

Daniel's breathing had finally slowed, and he seemed to be calmer than he had been just after Calder had left. That position, though both uncomfortable and degrading, wasn't doing him any good. Jack wasn't sure whether Calder had left Daniel that way by design or neglect, but it didn't much matter in terms of the results. That angle had to be giving Daniel trouble with the collar, and the inability to move for such a long span of time wouldn't be good for anyone.

Jack gulped. How was Daniel going to cope with his? Not just the experience itself, but the fact that Jack had witnessed it? Jack didn't know how he'd take it if their positions were reversed.

One thing in particular worried him immensely. In the normal course of events, Daniel sought emotional support from Jack when he suffered trauma. They were the closest of close friends, and even when Jack had been at his worst, he'd still been there for Daniel after his experience at Rigar's hands.

This might be different, though. Jack had declared his sexual attraction a little over a month ago, so Daniel might think twice about seeking comfort from him on this occasion. Who else did he have? He had other friends at the SGC, but Jack was in a position to know that when he was hurting the most, it took patience and effort to get him to deal with it. Otherwise he shut down and tried to keep it all inside. Jack didn't know if he could trust anyone else to drag it out of him. Not even Carter or Teal'c.

The door that he assumed led to Calder's bathroom opened and Calder emerged, naked as the day he was born. Jack shook his head. He wasn't going to ... he couldn't possibly ... Jack didn't want to see that again. Part of him felt guilty for even thinking that, because no matter how wretched watching it made him, it had to make Daniel feel immeasurably worse to be experiencing it.

Calder walked over and pulled the bolster out from under Daniel's butt. Once Daniel was flat, Calder knelt across him on the bed, actually sitting on him from the look of things. Jack prevented himself from yanking at the bonds but it was a near thing. He couldn't do any good hurting himself in here where he couldn't even reach either Calder or Daniel.

***

Daniel glared up at Calder, but he didn't speak. Gravity was now working the other way, and he could feel stuff dribbling out his ass. It was ticklish and sticky, and left him wanting to throw up. Calder was actually resting some of his weight across Daniel's hips and that wasn't helping.

"So, Daniel, do you want that collar removed for a time?" Daniel blinked up at him, but didn't speak. Calder bent and stroked Daniel's cheek. "You really do have to answer, Daniel. Yes or no, do you want the collar removed?"

Daniel resisted the urge to make a snide remark and said, "Yes."

"Would you like to know what you have to do to gain that?"

Gulping, Daniel eyed Calder nervously and said, "Yes."

Calder smiled. "I want you to tell me about the last time you and O'Neill had sexual relations, in detail."

Daniel took a deep breath and looked up at the man who was looming over him. "Jack and I don't have that kind of relationship," he said with as much calm patience as he could muster.

Calder's eyes flashed angrily. He reached around to grab Daniel's balls and squeezed them tightly for an instant. Daniel let out a yelp at the unexpected pain. "I do not know why you persist in lying. Do you like pain?"

"I'm not lying!" Daniel ground out. Calder squeezed again and he grimaced. "Son of a bitch!"

Pleasure at Daniel's discomfort filled Calder's expression, and his hands were now massaging Daniel's balls. Daniel twitched his hips involuntarily, trying to move away from him. Calder tilted his head thoughtfully. "Have you fathered any children?" he asked.

"No," Daniel said.

"None?" Calder shook his head, a slight smile on his lips. "A man with your intelligence and talents should be trying to make sure his gifts are passed on to the next generation. I think I will have to rectify that at my earliest convenience. I can think of a half a dozen women at least who would be delighted to bear a child sired by a man like you."

Daniel's gut twisted at the thought. "According to you, I'm a worker," he said. "Wouldn't that make my child less desirable?"

Calder shook his head. "Ever the cultural observer, I see. No, you were not born a worker. Criminals are in a different class altogether. In fact, having your child would be a prize much sought after, I should think. I might be able to make use of that."

Daniel couldn't believe what he was hearing. Calder was staring at the wall above the bed, obviously absorbed in considering the political capital to be reaped by putting Daniel out to stud. He cleared his throat. "That would require me to participate, wouldn't it?" he said.

Calder looked down with a contemptuous sneer. "Trust me, it could be arranged." He stroked Daniel's chest. "It could definitely be arranged."

Daniel felt himself start to shake. It was bad enough to be Calder's pleasure toy, but if things went on long enough that he was forced by whatever means to father children on women here ... he couldn't ... the idea of being used that way was revolting. So was the idea of leaving his child behind on this planet, to be raised in this culture. What would Hammond say? What would Daniel say? 'Sorry, sir, we've got to go back, I've got six or seven babies in utero back on that planet.' Then what could they do? Kidnap the women? Bring them to Earth till they gave birth, then let them go?

He didn't want to think about it. It wasn't going to happen. They'd get out of here before then. The hand on his balls tightened again and Daniel's focus sharpened on the here and now. He looked up into Calder's puzzled eyes. "Of all the threats I've made so far, that one seems to have you the most distressed," he said, loosening his grip on Daniel's balls again. "How very intriguing." Daniel's jaw set and he tried to control his expression. Calder's lips took on that little half-smile. "And it wasn't even a threat." Daniel blinked up at him, utterly appalled and angry. "In our culture, being granted the right to have more than one child is a privilege much sought after. I'm giving you the opportunity to have several, possibly as many as six. That's unheard of here."

"It's an honor I'd rather decline, all the same," Daniel said .

"It isn't an offer, Daniel," Calder said, his fingers once more stroking Daniel's balls. "You're not free to decline. If I choose to breed you, you will breed." Daniel shook his head helplessly. "However, it's not an issue at the moment. At the moment what is at issue is my desire to see you squirm while I spend myself in your body again."

Daniel turned his head away. He didn't want the expression on his face to give his reaction away. His stomach churned and he felt the edges of despair. Calder could do this tomorrow or later this evening for all he knew. It would only take once, and then Daniel would have a thousand unbearable decisions to make.

And there was nothing Daniel could do to prevent it.

***

As if raping him wasn't bad enough.

Jack stared at the agony on Daniel's face and wished ... the violence that was filling his thoughts wasn't comfortable, but rage bubbled beneath the surface of his mind, making it hard to think about anything else.

Carter, her memories altered, was beneath the ground, learning how to maintain the generator that powered this society, Teal'c was being brainwashed so he could follow, and Daniel was being molested before his eyes, after having been informed that he was a prize stud, and that his 'owner' was only waiting for the right offer to breed him. To think, yesterday they'd been talking about handing these people the key to the galaxy.

As Calder began all over again, Jack started to wonder if he could find a way to slide his hands through the damned cuffs so he could attack the bastard when he came back.

Assuming he came back. Assuming he didn't just send guards in to take Jack to whatever process was involved in turning him into a good little worker. Jack growled at the empty room in frustration. He hated feeling this helpless. What was involved in that mind control process? Whatever it was, it clearly left one a blank slate, easily influenced and led.

And it would make him forget what he'd just seen. Forget Earth. Forget Sara and Charlie and his parents and fishing and everything. It would make him forget Daniel.

Daniel let out a yelp and Jack's eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out just what Calder was doing. The camera wasn't close enough, and Calder's shoulder was blocking his view, but it didn't matter. It was making Daniel very unhappy.

Jack vowed that whatever happened, he would find a way to make Calder pay.

***

Calder bit down hard on the skin above Daniel's left nipple and then began to suck. Daniel let out a cry at the bite, and then squeezed his eyes shut. The suction grew even more painful than the bite had been as it intensified. He tried automatically to push the bastard away as the pain grew worse, but the movement of his hands just rattled the chains above his head, emphasizing his helplessness.

Finally, Calder let up, and Daniel knew there'd be a nasty bruise. Calder reached out and tapped his fingers against the bruise, then stroked it with something akin to affection. "I think I'll cover you with these," he said. "That way, when you walk through the house, no one will be able to miss just why you're here." He shifted down to kneel between Daniel's legs again, and bent to press his lips to the skin of Daniel's lower abdomen. Daniel grit his teeth and clenched his fists. A hickey practically in his pubic hair. He twisted his hips, trying to discourage Calder, but the teeth just bit down harder.

Calder had placed seven hickeys before he got down to business again. Daniel wondered if he was staking a claim or something.

A hand wrapped around his penis, arresting Daniel's attention. His teeth were beginning to ache from the way he was clenching them. "Very nice," Calder said consideringly, stroking. "Very nice indeed."

"Look," Daniel said. "There's got to be some way around this." He twitched as Calder tugged on the head of his penis, but he wasn't going to let himself get distracted. "You realize that my government isn't likely to trade with you if you can't even produce --"

Calder surged forward and put his hands on either side of Daniel's torso, supporting himself as he leaned over Daniel so that their faces were on level. Daniel broke off in surprise and some alarm. "I really don't care if your government ever trades with us," Calder said, and Daniel blinked at him. "As far as I'm concerned, we're doing very well on our own."

Daniel nodded, swallowing convulsively. He could feel Calder's erect penis dangling against his belly. "You're doing amazingly well, but there are other options. You don't have to keep those people down there. We might be able to find ways to help you build more efficient power plants that wouldn't require so many people to run them. You could integrate them into your --"

Calder placed a hand over Daniel's mouth. "Daniel, I'm perfectly satisfied with the current situation," he said. "Somehow, I don't think your government is enlightened enough to allow me to keep you, and I am quite certain that Colonel O'Neill would never agree to it even if they did."

Daniel stared at him in shock. He tried to speak, and Calder removed his hand, tilting his head in a condescending attitude. "There is nothing special about me," he said. "I'm just --"

"On the contrary," Calder said. "Besides being physically very pleasing, you are a man of intelligence and learning. Your lover clearly thinks highly of you despite the fact that he's a military man who finds the sciences and the study of culture to be quite boring."

"Jack doesn't --" Daniel started, but Calder shook his head.

"The only times he showed any interest were in the Museum of War and the Museum of Law." He paused. "Oh, and he seemed very interested in our music."

"Jack is a music lover," Daniel said. "Truly, though, we can offer you a great many things. There are places --"

Calder covered his mouth again. "Daniel, I know what you're trying to do," he said with an amused smile. "But you see, I know exactly what I want. Here I am in charge. It may be a small population, but I am in complete control. I have the best of everything, I get what I want, and the people are happy for the most part." He shrugged. "There is little dissent, and what there is gets dealt with swiftly, efficiently, and without loss of life. Even those working the plants and the mines are happy, because they believe they are doing the best they can. Because they don't know there's anything better to be had, they enjoy their lives and feel both productive and fulfilled."

Daniel shook his head and tried to speak, but Calder didn't let his mouth free this time. "No," he said. "You have attempted to distract me long enough. I have work to do, but I want to have you one more time before I go back to it."

Daniel closed his eyes. Calder removed his hand and Daniel opened his mouth to speak, but he only got one syllable out before Calder claimed his mouth firmly with his tongue and teeth. After an interminable kiss, Calder pulled away and said, "No more talking, Daniel. Sounds are all right, but no more words."

Scowling, Daniel closed his mouth. Now wasn't the time to piss Calder off.

"I'm sorry, I don't have time to get creative," his captor said contemplatively. "We'll be more adventurous in the future." It was a struggle, but Daniel kept the spate of words that threatened to spill out of him inside. Creativity was the last thing he wanted. The Roman emperor Tiberius was creative, and Daniel didn't want to go there.

Calder sat up again and reached for the jar, which he'd apparently left on the bed near Daniel's leg. Once again, he slicked himself up, then started lubricating Daniel.

"I'm glad I had the medical staff give you an enema during your exam." Daniel closed his eyes and tried to still his rage. His body was not his for the moment. He had to accept that to survive. If he kept getting angry about every insult to his privacy and invasion of his body, he would run out of emotional stamina.

Calder reached his fingers deep inside him, then drew them out slowly, watching Daniel's expression. Without taking his eyes off Daniel's face, he reached for the pillow that had served as a support before and replaced it, tilting Daniel upwards again. The shifting of the collar made Daniel's throat catch, and he started gasping for air.

After a moment, Calder reached out and loosened the collar. He didn't remove it, but he eased the restraint a little. Daniel took a deep breath and managed to keep from coughing. Calder watched him, then smiled. Daniel guessed he was pleased by the power play.

His hands had paused in their groping, now he resumed, gripping Daniel's ass in hard hands. A moment later, Daniel felt Calder's penis seeking entrance. He clenched his fists tightly as Calder drove into him. The earlier activities had loosened the passage, but not enough to make the sudden thrust easy to take, and certainly not enough to make it painless.

Daniel let out a loud gasp of protest. Calder was rougher this time, his hands pulling Daniel towards him in time with his thrusts forward. Each thrust was painful, but Daniel still felt no tearing. Just stretching beyond his body's natural limits.

Calder pumped into him, grunting softly with each forward motion. Daniel could do nothing but endure. The yanking kept pulling him against the collar, never enough to choke, just enough to keep reminding him firmly of its presence. Finally, Calder ejaculated, semen pouring into Daniel's bowels again in hot jets. Calder bent over him as he came, biting down hard on Daniel's shoulder and then sucking.

When he was done, he collapsed over Daniel, breathing hard and utterly relaxed. Daniel wanted to kill him. He wanted to break his neck and then cut him into tiny pieces to burn. He wanted to go home and tell Jack what had happened and then listen to Jack rant and rave about how he'd like to cut Calder into a million tiny pieces and feed him to Daniel's fish.

After what seemed like a long time, Calder sat up, kneeling once more between Daniel's knees. Daniel's joints were aching from the strain of staying in the same extended position for so long, his muscles were shaking, his heart was beating from the adrenaline of the impotent fight or flight reflex he was experiencing. Calder sat looking sated and insufferably pleased with himself

"So, Daniel, are you ready to admit who owns you yet?" Daniel's eyes flicked to meet Calder's, and it was clear he was quite serious in his question. "I have told you I will grant you clothes if you answer that question correctly. Do you want to walk around the house with these ..." He fingered the hickeys that were easiest to reach. "Plain for anyone to see?"

Daniel closed his eyes. He should say it. It didn't mean anything, really. It just felt like such a defeat to say the words out loud.

Calder bent and lifted Daniel's hip, and pressed his lips to one of Daniel's buttocks. Applying teeth and suction, he gave Daniel an eighth hickey, then he leaned across Daniel's body. "Who do you belong to?" he asked.

Daniel stared at him for a long moment. "Sha're," he said finally.

Calder sat up, looking startled. "Sha're? Who is that?"

"My wife."

Calder's brows knit. "But she's dead," he said. "You told one of your guides."

Daniel attempted automatically to shrug, but the position made it impossible. "That doesn't mean I don't still belong to her."

Calder shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. That would be an insane waste of resources."

"We don't have that problem," Daniel replied. "And she hasn't been dead a year yet."

"I might have sympathy for you," Calder said, "if you weren't already having a relationship with O'Neill." Daniel grit his teeth and looked away. Denying it again would probably only get him slapped again. "Or does that predate your wife's death?"

Daniel glowered at him. "Our friendship predates my wife's death," he said through gritted teeth. "In fact, our friendship predates my wife. I met Sha're after I met Jack."

"And you sought comfort with him after losing her," Calder said. "How touching." He undid the collar and slid it out from whatever it was attached to on the bed. Tossing it aside, he drew back and got off the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under Daniel's rump and walked across the room to fiddle with something on the wall. Then he disappeared into the bathroom again. Daniel fought to keep the looming tears from falling. Thinking of Sha're had not been a good idea.

Calder emerged after about fifteen minutes, dressed for work. He walked over to the bed and gazed down at Daniel. "You are mine now, Daniel. Your answer was not correct." Daniel closed his eyes and bit his lip. He winced. It was still tender from all the chewing Calder had done.

Calder walked to the door, which opened. The guards came in, faces impassive, not even looking at Daniel. "See to it he gets an hour to himself in the bathing chamber, then take him to his room and have someone check on him. I don't think there's any serious damage, but I want him checked."

"Yes sir."

"Make sure he doesn't do himself any harm. He's new to this life, and you know how that can be." Daniel couldn't believe what he was hearing. Calder was concerned? Probably he didn't want Daniel to flay his skin off with a scrub brush and make sex difficult.

After that, Calder left him to the tender mercies of the guards, who were gentler than Daniel would have expected. One of them still bore a black eye from their earlier struggle, but they unchained him and helped him out of the bed, apparently aware that he would be stiff and that movement would be painful.

They took him out of the room and through the hallways of the apartment. An older man walked past them at one point, and though Daniel flushed with abject humiliation at being seen this way, the man ignored him completely. Evidently one didn't notice a naked slave, or one with his master's marks all over him.

The bathing chamber was a utilitarian room with a very large, sunken tub that was already full of gently steaming water. There was a row of three showers along the wall to his left for actually cleaning, so the bath must be for soaking. An hour.

Daniel walked into one of the shower stalls. There were no doors to them. Nudity must not be a big deal here regardless of rank, unless this room was for slaves only. He sluiced himself off, grateful to find that the showerhead was telephone-style. He cleaned himself the best he could, especially given that he had an audience. One of the guards had remained outside to guarantee no one else came in, the other had come in with him. No doubt he was making sure that his employer's latest acquisition didn't see fit to off himself in the tub.

The soap was gentle and smelled of some scent Daniel couldn't quite place. He wondered if it was a local bloom. When he felt clean, he walked over to the tub and lowered himself into the hot water. It soothed his aches and pains, but it also made him sleepy, a state he wasn't comfortable with. He got out before he was really ready to and walked over to a mirror.

Above his left nipple, on his lower abdomen, on his shoulder, on his ribs, all over, red marks that were already beginning to ache. They'd turn purple by tomorrow if past experience was anything to judge by. His neck was rubbed raw in a couple of places. He'd noticed the sting when he went under the hot water and now looked to see how bad they were.

He wrapped himself in a towel and made for the door, but the guard shook his head. Daniel thought about trying to hang onto it, but he didn't have the energy. He dropped it on the floor and followed the guard out of the room.

His passage through the apartment seemed to have drawn attention, or maybe he was paranoid. People just kept passing by, not looking at him in a way that made him feel very conspicuous. He wanted to ask them if they were impressed by their master's newest choice for a 'personal servant,' but it wouldn't be fair. He had no idea how many of them were in the same boat with a different job.

His room was the same, but now there were covers on the bed. Daniel walked over, lay down and, contrary to his expectations, he fell asleep almost instantly.

Chapter Eleven

As Calder came towards the camera, Jack tried to keep his eyes on Daniel. Calder had finally removed the collar and the bolster, and Daniel lay flat on his back, looking exhausted. Jack hoped Calder was done with him, at least for the time being. He didn't dare hope for more.

His view was abruptly blocked by a hairy chest. Calder was surprisingly hairy under his clothes, a fact that Jack could have lived a long time without learning. Certainly a close up was not at all inviting. Then the image suddenly went dark, leaving Jack staring at a blank screen, filled with horror and aching loss. Horrible as it had been to watch Calder assaulting his friend, not knowing what might be happening now was worse by far.

Minutes passed at an agonizing pace, stretching subjectively into hours. Jack's control snapped. He started wrenching at the cuffs and, quite by accident, broke them loose of the bracket. He'd been attempting to pull his wrists out, but this would have to do. Praying that the direct feed to his bedroom had persuaded Calder not to have this room monitored, Jack got up from the chair and started trying to bring his arms around front. Within minutes, he realized it was fruitless. The cuffs had absolutely no leeway. American prison guards and law enforcement types would never have been permitted to use this design to bind a prisoner's arms behind his back. On the other hand, the fact that, as he writhed trying to accomplish the impossible, no one came in to interrupt his efforts gave him hope that he wasn't being watched.

Of course, there could be a group of those red-clad guards watching his antics with amusement and betting on how long it would take him to give up. Jack hoped not, because he was about to do would do doubt bring them running, weapons and fists ready.

Scowling with concentration, Jack psyched himself up, then twisted his arms until, with a wet pop, his left shoulder joint dislocated. Keeping his teeth shut tightly on the cry of pain, he slowly guided his arms under his butt and around the ends of his legs until they rested in his lap. There he sat for several seconds, regrouping, but he didn't dare wait too long. Big men with guns could show up at any second. Finally, he turned sideways and, with a sharp intake of breath, forced the joint back into place. With that done, he leaned against the wall, breathing and letting the pain subside.

Before too long, though, he made himself stand up and went to lean against the wall by the door. By now he was reasonably certain that there was no surveillance.

What was happening to Daniel? Had Calder left him alone, still tied to the bed, while he headed off to do something else? Was he raping him again? Jack's anger surged, sending his adrenaline levels up, damping down the pain.

Just in time, too. The door began to open, and those adrenaline levels, already high, skyrocketed. Feeling neither fear nor pain, Jack brought his arms down solidly on the head of the first man through the door. The man, a guard, of course, dropped like a stone. Jack got a very brief glimpse of Calder's face, white with shock or anger, or maybe both. The one of the guards proved that he knew his job by shoving Calder out of the way and charging in, his fellows close behind him. The fight was short, ugly and predictable. Jack wound up on his back, being held down firmly while they undid the cuffs in front. Then they flipped him over and reattached them behind.

Calder's voice had just a hint of hysteria in it. "Who released him? Who changed his bindings?"

"No one, Administrator!" The guard sounded rather panicked. "No one has entered this room since you left it."

"Someone must have!" Calder thundered. "He couldn't do it on his own, surely!"

"The attachment's broken!" someone said from beside the chair. "He broke it."

"That doesn't explain how the cuffs wound up in front. Get him on his feet!" They dragged him upright. Calder stood as far off as the room permitted him to. Jack glowered at him. "What happened? How did you wind up in ... in this position?"

Jack smiled. "Magic."

Calder's eyes narrowed. "Explain now!" he ordered. Jack just looked at him. "Or do you really want to see Daniel again that badly? I can assure you, it would not be nearly so pleasant this time." Jack froze, the sincerity in Calder's eyes was plain to read. He swallowed. Calder smiled contemptuously. "Now, tell me," he said.

Jack raised his chin. "I dislocated my shoulder which gave me enough freedom to pull myself through my arms."

Calder stared at him. "That's not possible," he said, but he didn't sound altogether convinced.

"Oh, it's possible, all right, and you should be glad you weren't first through that door or you'd be dead now."

Calder's eyes snapped, but after a moment he smiled malevolently. "Instead, I'm the owner of the best untapped breeding stock on the planet."

Any semblance of self-restraint went out the window. Breaking loose from the guards, he launched himself at Calder, prepared to kill him by whatever means he could, even if he had to tear the bastard's throat out with his teeth.

Four guards tackled him to the ground before he could reach Calder, but he struggled against them despite the odds.

"Get him out of here, and tell Brenna to contact me the moment he's under. I want to speak to her about his stamp."

They dragged Jack out of the room, kicking and fighting, biting and struggling all the way down the hall. They wrestled him onto one of the medical beds and strapped him down. He lay panting and glaring at all and sundry while a woman approached with a needle. She stuck the syringe in with one sharp jab and sent the contents home.

His heart was beating rapidly, pumping the blood through his system at a fast pace, which meant the drug would hit him all the sooner. He closed his eyes and focused on Daniel. He would not forget. If such a thing was possible, he would leave himself with an imperative to find Daniel.

***

Brenna gazed down at the man uncertainly. He was so much older than the people they sent down to them in the usual way of things. People this old didn't get sent to work in her plant. The graying of his hair, the lines on his face ...

His body was lean and strong, though. She'd observed a number of old scars as the techs had changed him into his work clothes. She hoped he'd last. She always hated it when one of these types of workers died in the first weeks of arriving. It made her feel she'd failed somehow. They came to her so blank, and she tried hard to give them what they needed to survive, but it didn't always work.

She was also disturbed the amount of personal interest Administrator Calder seemed to have in these particular condemned. Ordinarily they were sent with a file concerning their lives so that suitable personas could be developed for them, and nothing more came from the surface. Certainly, the administrator of the city didn't monitor their progress.

The door opened and Administrator Calder entered the room. He looked with satisfaction at the recumbent figure on the exam bed, then his brows knit. "Why is he not restrained?"

She blinked. "He is unconscious, Administrator." Unaccountably, the administrator didn't seem to be reassured by that. "Do you want me to do up the straps?" she asked.

"Of course not!" he snapped and she flinched. "Have you worked out a personality for him?"

"I have." She handed him the file. He took it with the tips of his fingers and looked at it, lips pursed with the disgust he always exhibited when forced to touch something from her hands.

After several moments, he looked up and handed the file back to her. "Very good, but it needs something more. He's fixated on something, and as I understand it, strong fixations can limit adjustment."

Brenna nodded. "They can, unless we find something suitable to substitute, but it needs to be something similar. What is his fixation?"

The administrator pursed his lips. "A love interest," he said. "A powerful attachment."

Her brows raised. "That can be hard to counteract. Do we know who it's to?"

Administrator Calder nodded. "I do. So, you redirect fixations, but the new object has to be something similar?"

"Yes, Administrator."

He contemplated this silently for a moment, then nodded decisively. "Then the woman of his party. Substitute her."

Brenna blinked in surprise. "She does not have a similar stamp," she said.

The administrator shrugged. "Does it matter?"

Very carefully picking her words, she said, "Do you want the feelings to be mutual?"

"I don't care," he replied, and she nodded slowly. It could make for some very unpleasant scenes, but there was no reason aside from that not to do it.

"Then, no, Administrator, it doesn't matter."

"Good. Do it." Administrator Calder gazed for a long moment at the unconscious man, unconcealed hostility radiating from him. "How long do you suppose he'll last down there?"

Brenna licked her lips nervously "I don't know, Administrator, it's difficult to say. He's strong and healthy."

"It should be interesting to see." Administrator Calder gave her a pleasant smile. "Keep me posted on their progress if you would."

"Of course, Administrator," she said, and he left. She looked down at the file in her hands. Making the changes that the administrator had requested would require some programming. She sat down began to work on the problem.

When it was solved, she gave it to the techs who input it in the machine and hooked the man up. He would be called Jonah henceforward, so she should start thinking of him by his new name. She tried never to think of people like Jonah by their old names. It was unwise and could lead to problems.

While the techs did their jobs, Brenna tried to make sense of what was happening. Surely if offworld visitors did something offensive, it would make more sense to send them home than to punish them here. And the level of animosity the administrator was showing towards Jonah in particular seemed very out of place. Where had he been all those hours after Thera and Tor had been brought to her? What had been done to him? He'd clearly been in a fight, he had bruises and abrasions to demonstrate it. What was being done with the other outsider?

These were all questions bubbling in her mind, but which she had no right to ask. The administrator must have good reasons for what he was doing. That Brenna couldn't see them was meaningless. He was the administrator and she was just a worker. Unfortunately, those simple facts didn't stop her mind from turning the questions over and over.

She got up and went to do some of her desk work while the process took place. It could take hours with some people, less with others. Thera had taken awhile, but Tor had been very resistant. It was unpredictable

They came and got her about four hours later, and she arrived to find him still unconscious. She nodded to the tech who gave him a stimulant to counteract the sedative. His eyes opened almost immediately, and he sat up like a shot. "Where am I?" he demanded.

She stepped back, startled by the sudden movement. "You're at the power plant. You've been transferred from the mines."

"Where's Thera?" he asked urgently.

"She's at work, Jonah, but she's --"

"I have to see her," he said. Brenna blinked in surprise. People never came out of the stamping with urgency. They were always vague and undirected. "Please, take me to her."

"In a minute. She's fine, though. She got a little sick on the journey from the mines, but she's fine."

Jonah drank that information in and nodded. He turned to face her. "What are we waiting for?"

"We need to make sure you're all right. You've gotten some injuries. The transport you were on had a small accident and you were hurt."

"I feel fit as a fiddle," he said. Brenna tried to conceal her complete lack of understanding of the phrase, but he looked confused by his own words. It wasn't uncommon. In some cases, a few neural pathways remained active, particularly those connected with repetitive activities. He began to look as if he were trying to reach for some memory, some connection, so she stepped in quickly.

"It's an expression, Jonah. You had a head injury, so don't worry too much if things seem a little odd for awhile. It will pass."

His confused look cleared instantly, and he nodded. "Please, I need to see Thera. Can we either get to the medical thing or skip it?"

She nodded to the techs who did a quick check now that he was conscious to make certain there were no problems that they couldn't recognize while he was out. There proved to be nothing more serious than a bit of soreness around the left shoulder, so she told him to be careful of it.

"Sure," he said. "Now can we go see Thera?"

"Of course," Brenna said. She was beginning to wonder if they'd done too good a job on his fixation. She took him down the stairs and across the floor of the plant, ignoring the curious looks as they passed people. Thera was working with Kegan, who seemed a little annoyed, but Kegan was always annoyed by something. Brenna put a hand on Jonah's arm to keep him where he was, then stepped forward. "Thera?" The woman looked up, eyes wide with interest. "You remember Jonah, from the mines?"

This was the moment when it would either come together or fall through. Thera looked at Jonah for several seconds and then said, "Yes, yes I do." She took a couple of steps towards him. "Yes, I remember you."

Jonah nodded seriously. "They said your trip was bad. You okay?"

"I am," she said, nodding and smiling. "I'm fine." Kegan rolled her eyes, and Brenna raised an admonitory eyebrow at her.

"All right, Jonah, now you've seen her. Can I put you with your section now?"

He nodded and went with her. She returned to the landing outside her apartment and watched them work. Tor was with those shoveling the ore into the furnace, Thera was learning how to check and calibrate the boiler pressure and Jonah, glancing over his shoulder periodically to see that Thera was still where she'd been when he last saw her, was learning how to repair the valves that were used to regulate the flow of water and steam. It was the least physically demanding job she could think of for him. She saw others of the workers looking at him curiously. An older man was an anomaly here.

They were fitting in, they would survive, or so she hoped. Sighing, she returned to her desk and stood looking down at the surface. Three new files for her drawer. Three new bodies for her workforce. She picked up the files and walked to the cabinet. Opening the drawer, she tucked them into their places. She wished she understood the crime they were accused of.

Shaking her head, she walked over and picked up the list of people who were up for routine medical examination. Four times a year, each worker was examined for health, both mental and physical. Going back to the drawer, she pulled the files on each of the twelve names then returned to her desk.

Dolmen. He was working well, no problems, no anti-social behavior. She marked him as not needing an update.

Tovert. The same.

Marla. No problems.

Clavens. Brenna sighed. Clavens had been complaining about the work he was assigned, claiming that other people were getting favored treatment. She had let it pass last quarter, he'd just been transferred from one position to another, and she hoped that he would settle in. Instead, things had only grown worse. It couldn't be permitted to go on, or friction would increase. She marked him for a simple stamp, to help him return to a more accepting state.

Once, a supervisor had let things like that go for too long down here, and there had been a riot. Brenna remembered it, she had been very young, not more than fifteen or sixteen, in her first placement. Nine people died in the fighting, thirteen were killed by the guards who came in to put down the riot, and the people from above had come down and spoken to the workers who were left. After that, everyone had been restamped. Everyone but Brenna and an older woman who was made the new supervisor. Brenna had become her assistant. Administrator Jervis had seen something in her, she supposed, some strength. When Alda had died, Brenna had been promoted to supervisor. She never wanted to see another riot. It had taken years to repair all the damage that had been done, longer to regain the skills that were lost in the mass stampings, and Brenna had lost everyone she was close to in the fighting, and in the personality changes that followed the stamps.

Pursing her lips, she placed Clavens' file on the stack with the others and turned to the next file.

Chapter Twelve

Daniel awoke to the sound of chimes. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, and remembered where he was. He sat up and wrapped the sheet he was lying under around his body. He looked down and saw the bruise on his chest, a dark irregular blot with the marks of Calder's teeth surrounding it. He stood up and opened the facilities. When he was done, he walked over to the window and looked out. People were moving about below, and he wondered how many of them were 'workers.' His mind was irresistibly drawn to the examples of ancient Rome and Greece.

The American impression of slavery was irrevocably entwined with the black African slaves in the old south and the Caribbean, which was misleading. In the old south, it wasn't difficult to identify who was a slave and who was not. You might be mistaken in thinking that a black person was a slave, but you knew for certain that no white people were. However, throughout most of history, slaves were indistinguishable from free people. Looking at two Roman men below the aristocratic ranks, a viewer wouldn't be able to tell the slave from the free man. Better clothes weren't a good indicator, a wealthy family might dress their slaves very well.

It was quite likely the same here. For all Daniel knew, the pages who had watched over them so attentively were slaves. Or 'workers.' Whatever.

His stomach rumbled, but he wasn't interested in calling attention to himself. He hoped Jack, Sam and Teal'c were all right. The situation they were in was much worse. That plant looked damned dangerous, and none of them knew who they were, assuming that Calder had told the truth. Much as he didn't want to believe it, Daniel suspected that he had. It made sense, and Daniel could see how it was seductive to think of it as perfectly okay. The people down below didn't know what they were missing, so they wouldn't miss it.

The door opened behind him and he turned, swallowing uncomfortably. A young man walked in with a tray and put it on the bed. "Breakfast. Knock when you're done. Administrator Calder wants you taken for examination."

Before Daniel could speak, the young man withdrew. Daniel looked down at the food. A slice of succulent yellow melon, a muffin with fresh butter, and a glass of milk. He walked over and sat down, keeping the sheet around himself. Sam, Jack and Teal'c were undoubtedly eating that nasty white mush with the flat bread at that very moment. He wondered what it tasted like, and if their taste buds would tell them they'd eaten better before, even if they couldn't remember it.

His stomach was rumbling, but there was something holding him back. It seemed somehow disloyal to eat this while he knew his friends were eating crap.

Teal'c and Jack would make short shrift of that argument, and Sam would just look at him like he was nuts. He himself wouldn't expect any of the three of them to refuse good food because they knew he was eating poorly. Still ...

He picked up the muffin and started eating. When he finished, he knocked on the door and the young man opened it again. Taking the tray, he handed Daniel some fabric. "Get dressed. The guards will come in fifteen minutes."

Daniel shook the clothes out. A pair of briefs, a pair of pants and a v-necked sleeveless shirt. He pulled them on. About half of the hickey on Daniel's chest was visible, and the one on his arm was completely out in the open. He felt horribly exposed, but he was getting out of this room. He might have an opportunity to break away and get to the gate. If he could just ... he didn't have his GDO, he didn't have any form of radio. He swallowed. He could go to the Land of Light. He was reasonably current on his antihistamines.

The door opened and the guards came in. Daniel stood up uneasily. These were the same man who had delivered him to Calder's bed twice yesterday, and removed him twice. They were ordinary looking men. "Do you have names?"

They stared at him, apparently startled by the question. The one on the left, a short, stocky man with dark hair, green eyes, one of which was turning a startling shade of purple, said, "I am Mattias." He gestured towards his companion, a wiry blond man with blond hair. "This is Joram."

"Daniel," he replied, nodding.

They exchanged puzzled looks, then Mattias stepped forward, holding out a pair of handcuffs that Daniel hadn't noticed. "Please hold your hands out," he said, looking mildly embarrassed. Daniel mentally congratulated himself for making himself more a person in one man's eyes. He also put his hands out. What was the word Aris Boch had used? Choiceless.

They led him out through the halls of the apartment to what was clearly a main entrance. On the other side of the door, it looked more like the public areas of the administration building, but nowhere he recognized. They guided him to an elevator where Daniel looked covertly at the panel that showed the levels.

This was a higher floor than they'd visited on their tour, if Daniel was reading the numerals right. He was pretty sure he was, and he didn't see anything lower than about thirty on this elevator's pad. "Does this elevator only cover the top part of the building?"

"Yes," Joram said, and Mattias cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. Joram blinked and then flushed. Daniel kept his grimace to himself. That question was too direct, too soon. They went down three levels and emerged on another hallway. This one had a great many more people, and Daniel felt rooted to the spot as he recognized some of them as people he'd spoken to, people who had conversed with him at dinner. Mattias and Joram started forward, their hands under his arms, but he balked.

They paused and Mattias said, "You have to come with us."

Daniel swallowed convulsively and, steeling himself, he walked forward. He didn't know whether to be thankful or humiliated that the people who knew him totally failed to acknowledge his presence. They turned a corner and went in through a door. Daniel glanced at the words above the doorway, but he couldn't quite register what they said before they were through it. The room they entered resembled a waiting room.

"Sit down," Mattias said.

Daniel did so, looking around nervously. It was a large narrow room with chairs down the side walls and a desk at one end with a door behind it. The floor was the same metallic silver that seemed to be so common here. A narrow woven rug ran down between the chairs with key patterns in dark green and blue. The walls were painted with geometric patterns in pale green and blue. The light was soft and diffused, directed upwards against a white ceiling.

A woman sat behind the desk. She looked up and nodded. The guards seemed to know what she meant, because they guided him to a chair against the left wall. There were other people waiting, a man and a woman, together. Daniel wondered what they were waiting for.

The woman at the desk spoke. "Jemma." The couple got up and went through the door at the end.

"What kind of examination is this?" Daniel asked quietly.

"Medical," Mattias said.

Daniel blinked. He thought he'd already had a medical exam. He sat back in the chair and tried to figure out what to do. He had a guard on either side of him, and he wasn't absolutely certain that the door would open for him. Probably.

"Is this a public facility?" he asked.

"It is," Mattias said. "But it will be shut down for a short time while we're here."

Daniel looked down at his hands. "What about Jemma?" he asked, a slight edge to his tone.

"They will be rescheduled," Mattias replied. "Administrator Calder has priority."

"Goodie." Daniel bit his lip. It was still tender from the assault the day before, so he stopped. He took a deep breath and tried to control his reactions. "You know, in rooms like this back home, they provide reading material." Neither man responded, and Daniel felt his anxiety rising.

The door opened again and the woman said, "We're ready for you now."

"I'm not ready for you," Daniel muttered.

Mattias gave him a funny look, and they pulled him to his feet and in through the door. On the other side there was a hallway, and they were gestured into a room that looked like an upscale version of the room he'd been examined in before. The one where they'd knocked him out.

The doctor was an older man who lowered the bed to the horizontal position and said, "Hop up if you would, Daniel."

"Do I have a choice?" Daniel asked.

"Not really," the doctor said in the same friendly voice. "But it would be easier on all of us if you'd simply cooperate."

"Well, it would certainly be easier on you," Daniel replied. The doctor pursed his lips and looked towards Mattias, but Daniel shook his head. "No, no, I'll ..." He walked over to the bed and looked at it. It was at about his waist level. "This could be kind of challenging," he said, turning around and gesturing with his bound wrists. Mattias and Joram solved the problem for him by lifting him up. He glared at them and then looked down at his hands.

"Please hold out your arm," the doctor said. Daniel looked up at him and then down at the cuffs. The doctor took in his meaning immediately. "Does he really need those?"

"He's not as harmless as he looks," Joram said, and Daniel looked at him irritably. "I mean, he ... he needs to remain under control."

"There are two of you," the doctor said. "And, under Administrator Calder's orders, we have locked both exit doors. He can't get out, so surely the cuffs can be dispensed with."

Mattias nodded and stepped forward to unlock them, and Daniel rubbed his wrists, mentally cursing Calder for being so damnably perceptive. Truth be told, he wasn't likely to try to escape with two guards on either side of the door. He wasn't Teal'c. He didn't have that level of fighting skill, just enough to get him out of trouble in situations where he had back up. Here, he had no back up.

"Now, hold out your arm." There wasn't much purpose in fighting this either. If he didn't do it, they could just make him. The doctor turned it so he had easy access to a vein and tied a tourniquet around Daniel's upper arm. Daniel recognized the lead up to phlebotomy, so he wasn't surprised when the doctor pulled out a syringe and several vials.

"What's your name?" Daniel asked abruptly, before the man stuck a needle in him. He hated not knowing people's names.

The doctor paused and looked at him for a moment, clearly startled. Daniel wondered if workers weren't supposed to ask people for names or what. "I'm Taethin. I need to take some blood."

"I got that, but I wasn't real thrilled about being poked with a needle by a complete stranger."

Taethin blinked at him. "I see," he said. "Please hold still."

Daniel grit his teeth and let the man take his blood. He filled four vials, withdrew the needle and then pressed a piece of fabric against the puncture. Daniel took over the pressure and the doctor began to label the vials. After several moments, he returned to Daniel and took the cloth. "Very good." He proceeded through some of the standard tests, reflexes, blood pressure, heart rate. Daniel was getting very bored. "If you just opened the gate, you could ask Dr. Fraiser for my records. They're very comprehensive, and if this is so completely legal, there shouldn't be a problem with that, right?"

"I really couldn't say," Taethin said. "Please look at the chart on the wall behind me."

"Why? I can't read anything below the fourth row without my glasses. Is that what you're looking for?"

"Thank you," Taethin said, sounding annoyed. "That will be fine." He made a mark on his chart. "Now, please stand up and disrobe."

"I'd really rather not," Daniel said.

"I grasp that," Taethin said. "Do it anyway."

"For informational purposes, what would happen if I said no?"

"I would send for my technicians, the guards would hold you and your clothing would be removed." Taethin gazed levelly at him. "I suspect it would be better for your comfort if you were to cooperate."

Daniel considered his options, then jumped down from the bed and started taking off his shirt. Then he took off the pants and stopped, hoping that stripping to the underwear would be sufficient. Taethin just waited, arms crossed, so Daniel, flushing with humiliation, removed the briefs as well. "So, tell me, where would one report a rape around here?" he asked after a moment, his voice sharp. Taethin stared at him for a moment without speaking, seeming at a loss to answer the question. "You do understand the concept of rape, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Taethin said. "The guards take care of such things, but we have not had a rape in over fifty years."

"The guards." Daniel glanced at Mattias and Joram. "Those guards?"

"Yes." Taethin sat on a stool and proceeded to do the very intimate check for hernias.

Daniel grimaced with discomfort and glared at the two armed men by the door. "Well, since they're the ones who tied me down for it, I'm less than totally inclined to report it to them."

Taethin wrote on the chart and then looked up at Daniel. "You weren't raped."

Daniel ground his teeth, then said, "Let's see, someone had sex with me against my will, using a combination of force and drugs to get his way. Oddly enough that sounds like rape to me."

"You're a worker. Administrator Calder has the right to do as he pleases with you."

"I'm a foreign national," Daniel said. "Detained illegally and without due process of law. My government is being lied to about my whereabouts, and my friends have been ..." Daniel shook his head. "I don't even know if they can come back from what's been done to them."

"You were found guilty of subversion by the Council of Justice, therefore you are a criminal, and may be disposed of at the Council's pleasure."

Daniel shuddered at the word 'pleasure,' but he wasn't done. "What did we 'subvert'?" Daniel demanded. "And this is the first I've heard of a trial, much less a conviction. One minute I'm touring a garden, the next minute we're workers."

"The Council does not need your presence to convict."

"Yes, but don't you think it would have been polite to tell me I was convicted, and of what, before tying me to a bed and ..." Daniel looked down at the floor. Then he looked up again and met Taethin's eyes. "We didn't do anything," he said earnestly. "We're foreigners who came here looking to trade with you, to help you better your lives, but Administrator Calder doesn't care about that." Taethin's eyes were growing troubled. "He just wants --" Daniel broke off.

"You must have done something," Taethin said, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself. Mattias, over by the door, was looking uncertain as well, but Joram was glaring at Daniel.

"We didn't take any action that would have altered life on this planet," Daniel said with absolute truth. "Has it occurred to you that maybe Administrator Calder arranged to have us declared subversive so he could make us workers?"

Taethin shook his head. "You were convicted by a duly constituted Council of Justice. It's not my place to question the council's decision. Please get back on the table. I need to carry out a rectal exam."

"Fine!" Daniel climbed up and let the doctor get him into position. Before he began the exam, though, Daniel said, "Be warned, it's likely to hurt. Calder was none too gentle with me last night."

"There is quite a lot of surface bruising," Taethin said.

"That isn't the sort of thing he's here for," Joram said. "You, Daniel, keep quiet as is your place."

Daniel closed his eyes as Taethin began his examination. He cleared his throat and kept talking, trying in part to avoid thinking about what was going on. "Among other things, I am a cultural anthropologist. It's my job to talk to people and get to know them."

"Your place is to do as you're told," Joram said. "You're a worker now, whatever you may have been before." Daniel grimaced and started to speak. Joram forestalled him. "This will all have to be reported to Administrator Calder. I doubt very much that he will be pleased."

Daniel didn't say anything in response, and after a moment, Taethin said, "You're right, there is no tearing." He moved away then and took of his gloves. "That's all. Please resume your clothing."

Daniel got off the table and pulled the clothes back on. Mattias came forward with the cuffs and Daniel allowed himself to be restrained again. They took him out of the office and back to Calder's apartment where put him in his room. "Remove the clothes," Joram said.

Daniel turned around and glared at him. "No," he replied. Joram entered the room followed by Mattias. The outcome was a foregone conclusion, but at least he gave them a few bruises to think about later.

He wondered what they were going to do with the blood samples. They were up to the level of analyzing DNA, and they certainly had enough samples for that now. He thumped back down on the bed, wishing he were home. The sheet had been replaced, so Daniel wrapped it around himself. He sat up against the wall and pulled his knees up to his chest. Resting his chin on his knees, he tried to figure out how he could possibly get out.

Chapter Thirteen

Thera was in front of him, not far in front of him, but never close enough to touch. Jonah followed her, calling for her, but the name he used wasn't Thera. Even though he kept calling it aloud, he couldn't quite grasp it long enough to register the sounds.

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, blue eyes flashing with amusement, but she didn't stop. In fact, her pace picked up. He chased after her, watching that tight rear end in her dark green pants. Part of his mind informed him that green was the wrong color, but he paid it no heed. It wasn't the pants he was interested in.

The world they were running through was strange and variable. Concrete walls like he'd seen all his life, odd wooden structures that seemed both familiar and out of place, sunlight, starlight, things he'd never seen before, but his imagination filled them in so beautifully. It was then that he realized he was dreaming.

Thera was drawing away, but he wasn't going to allow that. He put on a burst of speed and caught her, throwing them both to the ground where they rolled on grass. She started laughing and he discovered suddenly that the were both naked. She pressed against him, kissing him, her breasts pressed against the bare skin of his chest, then she threw double handfuls of grass into his face and ran away before he managed to get up. He caught her again, by one slim ankle, and brought her gently down, and they snuggled close in the grass, her back pressed against his chest. She nuzzled his neck and kissed his neck, and he looked down at her with adoration, only to find that she had somehow changed.

The eyes were still blue, but the hair had grown shorter and darker, and the body shape had changed drastically. The lush breasts were replaced by solid, flat pectoral muscles and ... he bent and kissed the upturned lips, reached out and fondled the hardening cock. He loved ... he loved ... the name wouldn't come. There was no name, just a willing man who gave himself to him utterly.

A thump nearby brought him out of the dream just at the climax of lovemaking, and Jonah sat up feeling irritable. He looked immediately for Thera. She was sleeping nearby, curled up on her side, clutching her blanket. Her face was smudged and dirty, but she was utterly beautiful. He knew he should get up, get in line for breakfast, but he didn't want to move while she was still asleep. Watching her sleep made him feel protective and like all was right with the world.

Why had his dream taken such an unexpected turn? Who was the man? Jonah didn't think he'd ever met him before. He gazed at Thera. She was so beautiful. What could ever make her look at him the way she had in that dream?

The horn blew and her eyes flipped open. Jack gazed into her blue eyes and smiled. She smiled back and got up. "Good morning, Jonah," she said.

"Good morning."

His eyes followed her throughout the day. Trevan kept grabbing his shoulder and telling him to pay attention to what he was doing, but Jonah couldn't stop looking for her. He knew, he knew he had to keep an eye on her. He had to know she was okay.

***

Brenna kept a quiet eye on Jonah and Thera, aware that the stamp she'd given him could all too easily cause problems, but Administrator Calder had been right. With as powerful as his reaction had been to the stamp, which had only encouraged an attraction to Thera, if a substitute hadn't been put in place of his previous love, the stamp would never have taken.

She wondered who he was in love with, and what thinking he was dead was doing to her back on their planet.

Unwilling to continue that line of thought, she turned her mind to more productive contemplation.

***

Daniel could only sit still with nothing to do for so long before he started to get stir crazy. Jack had always teased him about his restlessness, but he couldn't help it. He had to be doing something. The same young man brought lunch, but Daniel didn't even bother to ask him his name. He just stared at the food and wondered what that gruel stuff tasted like.

He took the food off the tray and picked it up. It had a little bit of weight to it, and might do as a weapon. The man wouldn't be expecting attack, probably, and Daniel doubted he was trained to fight. Daniel waited until he heard the door start to open, then grabbed up the tray and slammed it down on his head. The man stared at him stupidly for a moment, then fell to the floor. Daniel dodged out through the door as quick as he could, and wondered where he should go to find something to cover his nakedness.

He crept along the corridors, hoping against hope to find a laundry. He doubted he'd get far through the main halls of the administration building wearing nothing but a sheet. Most of the doors were closed, but he came to one that wasn't. It appeared to be a bedroom for several people, and there were dressers. No one was inside, so Daniel ducked in and started opening drawers. He found some underwear that fit, and three different sizes of pants. One of them was about a foot too short for him, but both the other two were a reasonable fit. He pulled one pair on and searched out a top. With a choice between a sleeveless shirt like he'd worn earlier and a sleeved shirt with something like a crew neck, he chose the latter immediately. All his hickeys would be covered by that.

Dressed, he peered around the hallway and, seeing no one, started towards what he thought of as the front door. The apartment seemed largely empty, which surprised him, but he didn't question his good fortune. He just kept moving towards the door. Once in the open, he'd have to figure out where the elevator that went down to the level of the museum was, or he'd have to locate some stairs. Stairs seemed like the better option. Elevators were little traps on strings.

He reached the front door without being challenged, but there he was stymied. He couldn't figure out how to open the damned thing. There were panels on either side, but for all Daniel could tell they might be decorative. He waved his hands in front of both of them and there was no change.

As he started to move away to look for a different door, he heard this one begin to open. He hid around the corner, hoping to maybe sneak out after whoever was entering had come in and before the door closed.

"What do you mean he's missing!" Calder growled, and Daniel shrank back. "How could he possibly get away?"

"We don't know, Administrator!" It was the voice of Mattias. "Everyone was in the kitchens, eating lunch, and --"

"No one was watching his door?" Calder demanded. "Did I not make myself clear? He is not to be left without a guard."

"He was locked in. We didn't think he --"

"You didn't think!" Calder snarled. Daniel drew back as the footsteps approached. He had tucked himself into a niche, and they went right past without look. "I should put all of you on half rations for a month. I can't ..."

His voice trailed off as they went past, and Daniel dodged out of hiding towards the door. He slipped through it with centimeters to spare and stopped dead on the other side. Left led to the elevator that didn't go all the way down, but Daniel wasn't certain if there were any elevators that went all the way down. He'd been in buildings where the elevators were staggered back on Earth, and there was no reason this might not be the same.

There were often stairs beside elevators on Earth, to provide safe exit in case of fire. It was reasonable to suppose the same might be true here. He headed left.

Unlike the door to the apartment, the elevator opened as he approached. It must have a simple proximity mechanism. Daniel went past it and looked to see if he could find a stairwell.

"Do you need something?" Daniel turned to find a young woman behind him. "Are you all right?"

"No, I'm fine," Daniel said. "I'm good." He looked at the elevator, which was still open. He walked inside and smiled at the woman as the doors shut behind him. He looked at the panel. He pressed a button two up from his current level. They wouldn't expect him to go up.

He had no idea what to expect when the doors opened, though, so he pressed himself against the wall beside the door and peered out around the edge. It looked like a utilitarian corridor, and there were no people. Maybe storage. He pressed a button for a floor about two above the bottom and dodged out the doors. That should send the elevator to a more believable floor and send them on a wild goose chase. Unless they had some kind of monitoring system on the elevators, but maybe they wouldn't think of that until later. He could hope.

Daniel started checking doors, looking for a stairwell or something. Admittedly, going higher made the exit via stairway a longer trek, but they might not think he'd look for those either. The third door he checked led to a set of stairs. Daniel went through immediately and peeked down the center of the column. It went very far down, but given that he was well above the thirtieth floor, that didn't mean it went down to the bottom.

He started down the steps as quickly and quietly as he could. They were solid, so there were no echoes, which was a mercy. Their stargate was on level fourteen, and he was on level thirty-five. Twenty-one levels, and who knew how many hallways and people to get past. He tried to let himself do whatever it was Jack did that let him become aware of everything around him.

One level. Two. Three. Seven. He kept going. He heard a door open above him, but he kept going down. He had to get to the gate. He had to get away so he could tell Hammond what was happening and they could rescue the rest of SG-1. He heard footsteps above him, but he kept going down. They were behind him. They might not even be coming down because of him. Two more levels down.

A door opened below him and Daniel heard voices. "He's still above us here!"

He got to the next landing and stopped for a second, breathing hard. Now he had someone above and someone below. It wouldn't take long for them to figure out where he was. He looked at the wall. Level twenty-three. He still had nine levels to go, and footsteps were approaching from above and below. So, keep going down and try to avoid them? Or go out into the hall and face whatever might be out there?

"Just remember, don't shoot him!" ordered a voice from above. That decided him. If they weren't supposed to kill him, that put him at an advantage. He started down again, keeping towards the center of the stairway, but he looked to the side. He could jump the space between the flights, and that being the case, he might be able to get below the people who were below him.

It was odd. Chases like this in movies were always full of noise and shouting, heavy footsteps and rattling doors. The only sounds here were the occasional orders from above and acknowledgments from below.

"There you are!" Daniel looked down and saw guards a flight below. They kept coming. Daniel slowed down and drew closer to the other edge. "Stop," said the man in the lead. "Stay where you are. You can't escape."

Daniel stopped and put a hand on the railing, then waited for them to get onto the landing. Once they were clear of the next flight down, he vaulted over the railing and landed, knees bent, on the next flight down. Then he started running, no holds barred, down the stairs, grabbing the railings to help him swing around the landings.

His best hope of escape had lain in going undetected, and that hope was gone now. At this point he could only hope to barrel through. There were two major problems. They had to know he was heading for the gate, so level fourteen was going to be heavily guarded, and it took time to dial the gate. He wasn't sure what the point was in continuing to try, but he was not giving up. Better to go down trying than to give up when there might still be a chance.

Level sixteen. He had to think. Level fourteen would be guarded. He would come out the door into the arms of a whole mass of security guards. Maybe it would be better to go to ground and find someplace to hide. Of course, while he was at large, they were never going to stop guarding that level closely, and he had no allies, no one to offer him help.

Level fifteen. The doors below him opened, trapping him between fourteen and fifteen. He stopped and gauged his chance of making it down two levels. He hand his hand on the railing and was preparing to jump when a hand came down hard on his shoulder.

He ducked and spun, punching for the man's groin. Arms grabbed him from behind, and though he kicked and hit, he went down in the end. He lay panting, the steps pressing painfully into his body. They bound his wrists behind him and got him to his feet, forcing him down the stairs to the fourteenth level. When they went through the door, Daniel saw just what he'd been up against if he'd made it that far. There were eight men waiting. He tried to pull his arms free of the guards holding him, but they just tightened their grip.

People were gathered behind the soldiers, staring, and Daniel thought he glimpsed something like a camera. Great, so he was going to make the eleven o'clock news. Just what he needed. At least the damned hickeys were hidden. The guards dragged him to the elevator, and Daniel could hear people talking behind him.

"He's one of the strangers!"

"What was he doing?"

The elevator doors slid shut and Daniel closed his eyes. Calder was not going to be happy. They took him to his room, roughly stripped the clothes from him and left him there. Daniel took several deep breaths and then punched the wall. He'd gotten so close, but he'd never really had a chance. If Jack had been ...

He punched the wall again and let out a curse in Abydonian. He was helpless. He was stuck and there was nothing he could do to help his friends or himself. Daniel walked over to stand at the window, staring out and trying not to imagine what could happen to his friends in that plant down there. How long would Calder want to keep them alive? How long would he want to keep Daniel as a toy?

What was Hammond going to do? What might Hammond believe or not believe? He crossed his arms and looked out at the beautiful city. He wished that it had lived up to its promise.

After about a half hour, the door opened again. Daniel turned to see two guards standing there. He didn't recognize them. Mattias and Joram must have gone off shift. They walked into the room and then the door shut again. Daniel waited to see what they were going to do, staying by the window.

"Please turn around and put your hands behind you."

"Why?" Daniel asked.

"If you do not follow instructions, I am authorized to take forceful action to see that you do."

Daniel licked his lips nervously and turned around, putting his arms behind him. They walked up and one of them fixed cuffs around his wrists. Then they led him from the room to Calder's bedroom where Calder was waiting. His eyes were narrow and filled with a sullen anger that made Daniel's gut twist.

"Good afternoon, Daniel," he said, his voice low and malevolent. "Bind him face down to the bed and go."

Daniel couldn't help himself. When they got him to the bed, he started to try and break loose.

"The alien is likely to cause problems for the simple reason that he is alien," Calder said, his voice full of sinister insinuations, and Daniel froze. "I didn't realize just how alien until we had him examined."

Daniel looked over at him. When Calder had started speaking again, the guards had paused, so he wasn't being pulled or pushed. There was a long silence during which Calder simply gazed into Daniel's eyes. Daniel couldn't bring himself to speak.

"It has occurred to me," Calder said, sauntering closer, "that it might be simpler by far to kill him now and be done with him." Daniel blinked at him. It seemed a strange sort of segue. "I wouldn't kill O'Neill, not now. I need him in the long term, to keep you under control, and I suspect the woman may be prove useful down below. The alien, though ..." He walked up to Daniel and ran a finger down the side of his face. "Him I could kill."

Daniel shook his head.

"I can't hear you," Calder said.

"No." Daniel cleared his throat. "No, please don't."

"'Please'?" Calder repeated, his fingers coming around to grasp Daniel's chin in a painful grip. "Is that all your caring leads you to? 'Please'?"

"Please, yes, please!" Daniel exclaimed. He leaned towards Calder, who was watching him with cold eyes. "I don't know what you want me to say!" He shook his head. "Don't kill him. I'll ... I'll do ... please just don't kill him!"

"Then do not fight the guards, Daniel," Calder said, releasing his chin and stepping back. Daniel took a deep breath and nodded once. "Get him on the bed and be gentle. I prefer to place the bruises myself."

Daniel let them manhandle him onto the soft surface and lay still while they brought the cuffs out and chained him down. No collar this time, but there wasn't much he could do spread-eagled face down on a bed. He heard the guards walk away, and then the door opened and closed. A moment later the bed shifted. A hand stroked down his back towards his butt, and Daniel shivered.

"So, did you enjoy publicly humiliating me?" Calder asked softly. "I hope you did, because you will never get another chance."

"I don't want to be here," Daniel said, helpless anger filling him. "I don't want you forcing my friends to work down there. I can't just stay here, pretending it isn't happening."

"I see." Calder remained silent for several seconds. "So, can I assume that, given another opportunity, you would do the same again?" Daniel didn't answer. "I see," Calder said again with a tone of deeper understanding. "Well, we'll just have to see that you aren't given the temptation again."

Daniel lay still under the gently stroking hand, listening to Calder's words. He had nothing to say. There was nothing he could say.

"You're more heavily muscled than I would have expected," Calder said, his hand coming to rest at the curve of Daniel's buttocks. "What do you suppose I should do with you, Daniel?"

"Let me and my friends go. We'll never come back here and you can forget about us."

"Ah, but I don't want to forget about you, Daniel," Calder said, leaning close by Daniel's ear. "I want to keep you close by." He bit down on the cartilage, then licked the skin behind the ear. "I want to taste every inch of your flesh, I want to make you writhe with pain and desire."

"I don't and won't want you!" Daniel snarled.

"No, I suspect that's true," Calder replied, his voice maddeningly calm and contemplative. "But there are drugs that can cause the reaction where the emotion is lacking, and that's almost more satisfying." Teeth attacked his neck and Daniel suffered the placement of yet another hickey. "It places your body under my complete control," he added, so close to Daniel that his teeth moved over Daniel's flesh as he spoke. "You are mine."

Daniel didn't contradict him. It would be pointless to. Philosophical differences made no impact on the situation.

The man straddled him just below his buttocks, and Daniel could feel his erection pressing against the crack of his butt. Calder bent low over his back and one of his hands crept under Daniel's hip and found his penis. Daniel closed his eyes and imagined what Jack would do to Calder if he knew what was happening and had the power to do something about it.

Unfortunately, it didn't help much.

Abruptly, Calder released his grip and stood up. "Now, Daniel, you know what's coming. You know ... or you think you do ... what I will do next." He placed both his hands on Daniel's ass and spread the cheeks wide and started sucking on the skin on the inside of one of his buttocks. Daniel twitched, trying to get away, but there was nowhere to go. Calder finished giving him a hickey inside his ass and then sat up. "Now, you contemplate the unexpected."

He got off the bed and Daniel heard fabric moving against skin. What the hell did he mean, 'contemplate the unexpected'? Long moments passed, and Daniel began to get more and more anxious. He really didn't want the bastard getting creative. Creativity was not necessary. Straightforward, simple rape was plenty bad enough. Clearly, though, it didn't satisfy Calder's perverse needs.

The sound of hands rubbing together slickly made Daniel tense. The bed shifted again and he felt Calder approach. Slippery hands pulled Daniel's buttocks apart and a rough hand attacked his anus. A few hard strokes around the outside were followed by a vigorous piercing with what felt like a thumb. A gasp of pain escaped him, and Calder chuckled. The lubrication was swift, thorough and rough.

When Calder was done with that, he grasped Daniel's hips and forced them up and backwards at an angle, then buried himself deeply in Daniel's ass with a single hard thrust. Despite himself, Daniel arched and cried out in agony as the shaft stretched him wide. As Calder pulled back, Daniel realized what part of the source of the pain was. There was something on Calder's penis, some kind of sheath or condom that had hard knobs on the outside. They must be tiny, but they felt like mountains inside Daniel's body. The second thrust was as painful as the first and Daniel let out an involuntary groan. Apparently pleased by the effect his surprise was having, Calder began to pump slowly and regularly. Daniel's fists were clenched on the covers of the bed and his jaw was so tightly closed that he could feel the tension in the muscles on each temple. It seemed to go on forever, and if Calder seemed to think Daniel's reactions were insufficient, he'd shift his grip on Daniel's hips, changing the angle ever so slightly, making the next thrust that much more excruciating.

Finally, Daniel felt the spurts of semen pulsing into him, and relief suffused him. It was over. This bout was over. The hard thing stayed inside him, though, after the erection must have gone limp. Then Calder moved away, and Daniel realized that he'd left the thing behind. It was a sheath, then, and not a condom, and solid of its own right.

Slowly, gradually, his body began to close around it, shoving it out centimeter by centimeter. It was an entirely new sort of agony. He wanted desperately to shove it out, but he knew just how painful that would be. Eventually, though, he couldn't stand it, and he used the muscles for what they were designed for, ejecting the foul thing.

Calder laughed as the thing hit the bed and came back to kneel between his legs. He stuck a finger deep inside Daniel's anus, causing Daniel to shudder at the casual nature of the invasion. Calder probed a bit, then pulled the finger out again. "No bleeding. I was afraid that might tear you, but I'm very glad it didn't."

Daniel was glad too, but he didn't think it was for the same reason. Calder was probably just glad that he didn't have to send his toy to a doctor to get him patched up. Bending, Calder began to gnaw his way up Daniel's spine from the tail bone to the neck. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to move or breathe too deeply as Calder's body gradually covered his. The flaccid penis brushed against Daniel's buttocks and back, but the limp nature of that member was no relief now. His tormenter was clearly more than willing to use appliances.

Calder leaned close to Daniel's ear. "You ever try to escape again, and I will make you watch while I take O'Neill the same way I just took you." Daniel's gut roiled, but he tried not to show how much this idea distressed him. Recent thoughts aside, Daniel didn't think Jack had ever gone that direction in his life. Calder's voice continued, low and insinuating. "How do you think he'd feel? I would, of course, tell him why and that you knew exactly what you were getting him into." Daniel felt himself start to shake, and Calder nibbled on his ear. "Imagine what he'd feel ... the man he loves, the man he's protected, setting him up for --"

"What?!" Daniel twisted to glare into Calder's eyes. "I thought ... I thought he couldn't remember anything."

Calder smiled, which made Daniel's gut turn over. "Oh, the stamp is reversible," he said. "I can give his self back to him, do what I like to him, then take his mind away again." Daniel stared at him in horror and Calder's smile broadened. "And again ... and again ... and again ... as many times as I choose to. And each time he remembers, he'll remember everything."

Daniel's neck was cramping, so he lowered his head back to the bed. Reversible. It was reversible. That meant they could come back, all three of them, if they could just stay alive. A sharp pain in his ear lobe brought him back to his current position, making even mental escape impossible.

"Do you understand me?" Calder asked.

Daniel shuddered, but Calder was waiting for an answer, and he didn't want the bastard to get impatient. "Yes, I understand."

"Good." He licked up the back of Daniel's neck. "Your sweat is incredibly arousing, particularly when you're afraid."

"And you are a sick, perverted bastard," Daniel said, his voice a bit unsteady.

Calder ran a hand through Daniel's hair. "Am I?" he asked. "I hope to live up to your expectations of me."

"Please don't put yourself out on my account," Daniel said.

"How considerate you are." He began to chew on Daniel's ear. "But I am enjoying myself."

Daniel grimaced and closed his mouth on the banter. Calder didn't need his help to escalate. He was doing fine on his own.

Calder heaved a sigh. "Well, that's enough fun for now," he said, sitting upright and drawing his hands down Daniel's back to rest on his buttocks as he did so. His fingers tapped an irregular beat on Daniel's skin. "I have work to do, little as I want to leave you." Daniel could feel his muscles twitch every time one of those fingertips tapped him. "But I'm expecting more communication from your homeworld this evening. They will want to know if we have found you. Wouldn't your General Hammond be surprised if he knew where you were right now?"

Daniel's throat closed up. Hammond would be devastated and angry. He gulped to try and clear the emotional reaction, but it wasn't having much effect.

"I'll go to speak to him now, with the scent of you still fresh in my nostrils, and I'll tell him that you're dead and beyond recall, that the woman's science and O'Neill's overconfidence drove you to your doom, and it will be the truth in a way, won't it?"

Daniel felt his chest tighten, and he fought it. He would not break down, not in front of Calder for certain.

The man pulled away from him and went into the bathroom. Within minutes he emerged and walked over to Daniel's side. Bending, he took in a deep whiff, and Daniel wanted to lash out, to destroy him, but there was nothing he could do.

Calder walked away towards the door, which opened. Footsteps entered the room. "Take him to the bath, make sure he cleans himself, then have Mahail prepare him for this evening."

"Yes, Administrator," the guard said.

"I'll see you when I get back from work, Daniel, and I'm sure you'll enjoy whatever news I have for you."

With that he left, and the guards unchained Daniel. He maintained his control until he was under the flow of water in the shower. Then he let his tears flow where they could not be seen.

Right now Calder was talking to Hammond. Right now, Hammond knew there was something very wrong, but how wrong ... how wrong it was, that kindly man couldn't even imagine.

Chapter Fourteen

Brenna walked through the plant, nodding at people who looked up from their tasks as she passed. She made irregular trips through the facility, making sure everyone was busy, that things were getting done, that people were content and relatively comfortable. In the ordinary course of things, that was the job of the foremen, but she found it paid to make her own assessments, to keep the foremen honest.

As she drew near to the boiler where Section 23 was working, she realized that something had to have gone wrong. Tasks were abandoned, and she could hear raised voices on the other side of the boiler. Quickening her pace, she walked around and found most of Section 23 gathered around Kegan, Thera and Mevor, who was the foreman of Section 23. Kegan looked furious while Thera stood looking embarrassed.

"She's supposed to do what I say, not go off on her own!" Kegan said irately. "I've only just taught her how to do valve maintenance. She should have come found me!"

"What seems to be the problem here?" Brenna asked, walking forward.

Mevor grimaced, wiping her brow with her sleeve. "Kegan went on a necessity break, and left Thera maintaining the valves on the number two boiler. While she was gone, an emergency arose. I was at the number one boiler, and Devon didn't know what to do when the lines overheated." Mevor nodded at the pipes that led from away from the condenser. Brenna nodded, pursing her lips anxiously. That was becoming a bigger and bigger problem, but she didn't know what to do about it.

"She should have come found me!" Kegan repeated stubbornly.

Brenna gave her a look that silenced her and turned back to Mevor. The older woman pushed her hair back wearily. "Instead of seeking help from a more experienced worker, Thera bled the lines, dealing with the problem."

"And the trouble is ..." Brenna looked at Kegan, then at Thera, then back to Mevor.

"Kegan believes she shouldn't have taken action on her own, but should instead have found help."

"If she'd gone, the lines would have blew," Devon said suddenly. "They were going to go, but she stopped it."

"You don't know that!" Kegan snapped.

"Thera?" Brenna said. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

The woman looked up, eyes wide and very skittish, like she didn't want to be the center of attention. "The lines were going," she said. "I just did what I thought needed to be done."

Brenna took a deep breath and nodded. "And you did right," she said. Thera's shoulders relaxed with relief, but Kegan looked up and glared. Brenna was beginning to be worried about that one, but she didn't want to judge too soon. "Working in the mines can have an effect on the memory, you all know that. People often need to be retrained, but the knowledge also frequently comes back. Thera has worked with machines before, so it's not surprising that she might have some skills resurface." She looked around at the gathered crowd. "Now, I hardly think this required the attention of everyone in Section 23, so perhaps the rest of you should return to your tasks."

They all stiffened and nodded their heads. "It is an honor to serve," they said in a ragged chorus, then dispersed to their jobs, leaving Brenna with Kegan, Thera and Mevor.

"Thera, Kegan, back to work," Brenna said, and they both repeated the mantra that kept them all alive down here and moved off.

Brenna nodded to Mevor, but as she started to turn, Mevor said, "Brenna, may I have a word with you?"

Brenna turned, and Mevor made a little gesture as if to say she wished to speak in private. Brenna led the way up to her office where she sat down and waited for Mevor to speak. "I may be speaking out of turn, but I was concerned when you placed Thera with Kegan."

"Concerned?" Brenna repeated. "Why?"

"She's been showing some signs of ..." Mevor shook her head. "Over the past couple of weeks, she's begun to be very touchy, particularly with other women. If you'd put her with one of the new men, I think she might have been fine, but this has only made things worse."

Brenna bit her lip. "I didn't realize. I wish you'd said something."

"I wasn't sure enough," Mevor said. "I didn't want to cause her problems if I was misinterpreting what I was seeing. It might have been a personality conflict with some of the others in the section." Brenna nodded. "It doesn't help that Thera is exceptionally gifted, even knowing that she's worked with machines before."

"I see." Brenna considered. Kegan didn't come up for her examination for another month. A worker who had to be stamped before the regular examination time got a much more intense stamp than they might otherwise have gotten, and Brenna preferred to avoid that. For one thing, knowledge and skills had to be rebuilt, for another, personality tended to change dramatically. "Do you think she needs to be transferred to another section?"

Mevor reacted with relief that the suggestion had come from Brenna. "I'm afraid I do. I'd recommend either 19 or 25." Brenna nodded. Both were headed by men, and 25 was made up primarily of men. "It's a shame, really," Mevor went on. "She's a very good teacher. I'm not sure what's causing this."

"It's often very hard to tell," Brenna replied. "We'll see if we can't work her through the problem."

Mevor nodded. "It's an honor to serve," she said, and left.

Brenna sat back. She hadn't considered that the superior technical knowledge the strangers had might cause problems. This one wasn't solved by any means. Kegan would likely view the transfer as a punishment no matter what she was told, and she would also likely blame Thera. She shook her head. At least O'Neill hadn't gotten involved in that little disagreement. What next?

***

Daniel cleaned off the grime and slime in the shower, he soaked away the aches, but when he returned to his little prison cell, he still felt filthy. He could feel Calder's hands on him, in him, the bastard's lips traveling across his skin. He remembered, though, from his experiences with Hathor, that no amount of scrubbing would make the feeling go away.

No position was comfortable. Naked as he was, he felt vulnerable no matter which way he turned. He kept his eye on the window. Light passed across it, the sun setting. He was to be prepared for the evening, according to Calder's orders. He wondered without really wanting to know what the preparation consisted of.

When the guards came, he was standing by the window, his back to the room. He didn't turn when the door opened. A voice said, "Put your hands behind you." Daniel obeyed without much emotion. He was here. He was stuck here. He was going to have to count on Hammond's figuring out that what he was being told was far from the truth.

They bound his hands behind him and took him from the room. They had stopped before a door, waiting for it to open before it occurred to him. What the preparations consisted of wasn't the issue, the question was, what were they preparing him for?

The room was redolent with a spicy aroma, and there were many cupboards. They uncuffed his hands, then produced another set and cuffed his wrists to the arms of the chair. Then they withdrew to stand by the door.. Daniel gazed around apprehensively. Who was Mahail and what was he likely to do?

After several anxious moments, a pleasant-looking man entered the room and surveyed Daniel. He was in that indeterminate age between forty and fifty, with silver threaded through his brown hair. Brown eyes looked Daniel up and down assessingly. "He wants you prepared, does he?" He raised an eyebrow, looking at the cuffs binding Daniel to the chair. "Well, it's clear he wants you bound, so that will have to be part of it," he said slowly.

"What's going on?" Daniel asked.

The man shook his head. "Hush, now, boy. I'm thinking."

"I don't care. What's going on?"

Mahail, or so Daniel assumed, looked at him critically. "I'll have to ask him if he wants a gag. You do seem chatty." Daniel clamped his jaws shut, and the man pursed his lips, eyes going distant again. "You have a lot of natural beauty, we'll want to enhance that. And those bruises and bites ... hmm ..." He turned to what looked like a computer console and called something up. "Yes, right, oh ..." He nodded slowly and turned back towards Daniel. "We'll want to make sure those show."

Daniel blinked nervously. What the hell was going on? Did he want to know? He gulped. Somehow, he doubted it was going to be pleasant for him.

Mahail walked over to one of the cupboards and opened it, pulling out a series of jars. He opened one of them and turned, a dollop of some kind of oil on one hand. Daniel shrank slightly, but Mahail ignored his reaction, assuming he even noticed it.

He walked around behind Daniel, and began to work the oil into his hair. A spicy scent came to Daniel's nostrils, and he said, "You might want to be aware that I'm allergic to any number of scents. Somehow, I don't think anyone will thank you if I spend the evening sneezing."

"That is useful to know," Mahail said. "But you don't seem to be reacting to this one."

"Not yet," Daniel replied, but he didn't think the spice was going to bother him. It was usually flowers.

"That's good. Administrator Calder particularly likes this scent." Daniel closed his eyes. Just what he needed. Maybe he could manufacture a sneeze. Probably not believably.

Once the oil was worked in, Mahail walked back over and picked up a small container and a thing like a paintbrush. He walked back over to Daniel, still gauging him with his eyes. "I think we'll want the briefest possible modesty cloth. Those are very fine legs." He looked over at the guards. "Does he have to be tied down?"

"He's not taking well to his change in circumstances," one of the guards said. "And he's trained in combat."

"That's a problem. I need to be able to look at his back as well." He gazed at Daniel, then reached out and lifted his chin. Eyes full of sincerity, he said, "This room is locked, the apartment is extremely well guarded, and Administrator Calder is a man with a resentful temperament. You would be well advised to keep on your best behavior, particularly after that performance earlier today."

Daniel nodded his understanding.

"Now, harming me will not get you free."

"Mahail?" said the guard who seemed to do all the talking. "He will have to be restrained. It's Administrator Calder's orders."

"Very well," Mahail said, looking annoyed. He left the room and came back several minutes later with a stool. "Find some way to attach him to this. I need as full access to him as possible."

They took about ten minutes working out the best option. He wound up standing up with his arms stretched above his head on either side. There were light fixtures hanging from hooks in the ceiling, and they ran cords through those hooks and tied them to his cuffs.

"Better," Mahail said, setting the stool aside. "He'll probably have plenty of time for sitting later, though I don't really know for sure what's planned." Daniel gulped. This was sounding worse and worse.

Mahail walked around him several times. "The administrator has been quite creative in his placement of some of his markings," he said, reaching out with a finger to part the cheeks of Daniel's ass. He couldn't help it, he twitched away. Mahail moved backwards. "You said he's combat trained?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps we should place some kind of bindings on his feet as well." The guards agreed and some time was spent tying his ankles together. Daniel bore it ... he didn't have much choice. Finally, Mahail approached with the jar and paintbrush. He started painting something cold and slightly itchy in seemingly random places on Daniel's shoulder and chest. Daniel peered down and realized that the man was painting his bruises with something clear and a little shiny. He did the front upper half of Daniel's body, then closed the jar and put it down on the counter. Picking something else up, he started spraying some kind of airgun at him, and Daniel peered down to see what it was doing.

Something glittery was adhering to his torso, most particularly where that stuff had been painted. He didn't know what to make of it until Mahail got out a larger brush with very soft bristles and began brushing most of it off. He was left with a slight glitter over the bruises and bites that drew attention to them. This process continued around the rest of his body, the spot in between his buttocks included. Who was going to be looking at him? More to the point, who was going to be looking that closely at him?

When he was done enhancing all of Daniel's contusions, Mahail returned to his counter and pulled something else out. He walked over with a small jar of powder and some kind of brush. "You have exquisite skin, truly, but let's just emphasize your better features." Daniel couldn't tell exactly what he was doing, but it was making his stomach churn, standing here while he was made up for some kind of ... show?

Calder was ... was he planning on showing Daniel off? Displaying his acquisition for an admiring audience of peers? The very thought was nauseating, as were the accompanying questions. How much display? How interactive was the display supposed to be? Was it 'show and tell' or a petting zoo?

He shuddered, and Mahail stared at him for a moment, raising an eyebrow. Then, shaking his head, he returned to painting something on Daniel's lower lip.

Finally he stepped back and put the cosmetics away. Opening another cupboard, he began to sort through very brief bits of fabric. Over his shoulder, he said, "One of you, go over to the cupboard behind me and find something in there that you feel is strong enough to hold your prisoner. There are some leg restraints as well, matching sets. See what you can find. If there isn't anything, we may have to send to my workshop."

Daniel's shoulders and arms were growing very tired. The door behind him opened and he flinched at the thought of anyone else seeing him like this. There was silence in the room, then footsteps and the door closed again.

"Administrator, you're earlier than I expected."

"I'm afraid something has come up," Calder said. Fury simmered in Daniel's gut, probably burning holes.

"Is the evening canceled?"

"No, merely put off."

"Oh, good, then. I've got some things I'd like to fetch. I didn't realize quite what was called for in this case."

"The guards will make sure he doesn't do anything to disturb your beautiful work. Let him down for now. I don't want him too tired to service me tonight." Humiliation caused Daniel's face and ears to burn.

"Of course, Administrator," Mahail said. "If you will excuse me ..."

"I won't be more than an hour later than we discussed, so don't take long."

"I will be swift." The door opened and then shut again.

The guards started to unbind Daniel, but Calder spoke. "Wait a moment." He walked around in front and looked Daniel up and down. "Mahail has done himself proud," he said, reaching out and stroking Daniel's chest from collarbone to right nipple, then pinching. Daniel twitched, his teeth clenched. "I, too, will be swift. I look forward to this evening immensely."

Calder left then, and the guards took his arms down and let him sit in the chair again, his wrists once more bound to the arms. It was considerably more comfortable, though he could wish that Mahail had gotten to the 'modesty cloth.' However brief, it would have been better than total nudity.

Mahail returned in about ten or fifteen minutes. Daniel looked up at him apprehensively. "Has he been to the necessary?" the man asked the guards.

"No."

"Well, take him," Mahail said impatiently. "He's not going to have much of an opportunity once things get started this evening."

There wasn't much question now what Mahail was talking about. Calder had people coming to look at his new pet, and Daniel only had to wonder anew just how much looking there would be and how much touching.

He didn't know if he'd be able to cope. How many people were coming? His mind whirled with questions he had no answers to, and no one was likely to answer them if he asked them. He'd already tried and Mahail had ignored him.

When he'd used the toilet and washed his hands, they returned him to Mahail who said, "Sit him down again. I don't want this to wrinkle while we're waiting." The guards followed his instructions. "Now, put this on his ankles." He handed across a pair of what looked like leather cuffs.

One of the guards took them with a dubious look. "I'm not sure ... hey, this is heavy."

"It's steel inside," Mahail said.

They knelt and put the cuffs on Daniel's ankles. He wanted to kick them, but what would be the point? He had nowhere to go, no way to get free of the chair.

After what felt like nearly an hour, there was a buzz, and Mahail nodded. "That will be the administrator. Get him up."

They pulled Daniel to his feet and Mahail picked up a strip of linen. He wrapped it around Daniel's hips one and a half times, then secured it somehow at the left side. It was long enough to cover Daniel's privates, but only barely, and there did not appear to be matching briefs.

The guards undid the cuffs behind him and rebound his arms with something that matched the restraints on his legs. "This is how gifts were presented to the ancient god-kings," Mahail said. "Minus the glitter."

Daniel was reflecting that the Goa'ulds would probably approve of the glitter when Mahail fitted something around Daniel's neck from behind. There was a click. Daniel tried to pull away, but his guards were still holding him on either side. The door opened again and Daniel stiffened. Calder walked in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Daniel. "I approve, Mahail," Calder said. "You are most worthy of your hire."

"I thank you, Administrator," Mahail said. He walked around in front of Daniel and hooked what was clearly a leash onto the collar. Daniel ground his teeth, but he didn't say anything. Turning back to Calder, Mahail asked, "Are we ready?"

"I believe so."

"I didn't want to place the gag until it was time, for fear of damaging that lovely mouth." Daniel stared at Mahail, then shook his head, starting to back away. One of the guards stepped behind him and held his shoulders firmly. "Open your mouth, boy," Mahail said. "There's no point in resisting." Daniel knew there was no point, but he also could not quietly submit to having a gag stuffed into his mouth.

They forced his jaws open and put the thing inside. It was softer than he'd expected, and flat inside his mouth. He could bite down on it. On the surface it was leather and covered his lips. Thongs tied it behind his head, and Mahail pulled them tight. Then he walked around him, touching up anything that seemed incomplete to him.

"Shall we show him what he looks like?" Mahail asked after he was satisfied.

"Let him wonder," Calder said without a moment's hesitation. He looked at the guards. "Give me ten minutes and then bring him."

He left the room and Daniel stood, bound, leashed, gagged and ... highlighted ... and utterly appalled.

Chapter Fifteen

The ten minutes passed far too quickly. Mahail looked him over one last time, then handed the leash to the guard on Daniel's left. Daniel didn't want to walk out of this room, not like this, but the propelled him forward, and faced with a choice between moving and thumping onto his face, his body took over and started moving. He stumbled a bit over the leg restraints at first, but then got the hang of the shuffling walk they forced him to adopt.

This was already unbelievably humiliating, and the only people present were the guards who had watched the whole process. He didn't know how he was going to cope with more.

He felt a sudden surge of disgust at his own self pity, and he straightened his spine slightly. Participant observation. That's all it really was. Involuntary participant observation. He was getting a closer look at this culture than they could ever have managed otherwise. Whether he'd have chosen to or not was a side issue, he'd get through it because he had to.

They took him into a small space that was clearly an anteroom, and there they waited, Daniel growing more anxious by the minute. When the door opened and Calder came out, Daniel heard the sound of talking, and it sounded like an alarming number of people. The door shut behind the administrator and Daniel bit his lip and took a deep breath. He had questions, but he had no way to ask them.

Calder took hold of the leash and tugged on it lightly. Daniel glared sullenly at him and waited. "It has suddenly occurred to me that you are a stranger here, and might not know what to expect," Calder said. He chuckled. "Frankly, you could have lived here all your life and you might not know what to expect."

Daniel's gut twisted and he grit his teeth hard on the forgiving substance of the bit in his mouth. He raised a sarcastic eyebrow, inviting Calder to continue.

"There are approximately twenty of my colleagues in there, men and women both." Daniel nodded. "They are all eager to see you." Daniel gulped. That didn't sound promising, but it was what he'd been expecting. "As to what I expect of you ... let's just say that if any of the fighting you've been taught show up tonight, I will not be pleased."

Daniel nodded again. That pretty much went without saying.

"Try to enjoy yourself." He stroked down Daniel's chest and abdomen to his navel, leaning close. "I can assure you, everyone else will." He turned to face the door, nodding at the guards to step away. The door opened and Calder stepped forward, his hand on the leash pulling on Daniel's neck. "Come, Daniel," he said, in very much the tone one uses when addressing a pet.

Participant observation, Daniel said to himself. Imagine the paper that could be written and ignore the fact that it couldn't be published.

They were immediately surrounded by Calder's guests, who were all staring at him avidly. Daniel recognized one or two faces among them, and felt his anger and anxiety both notch a bit higher. He'd had a long talk over dinner the first night with a man who was now gazing at him raptly, almost hungrily, from the fringe of the group. Calder pushed through, pulling Daniel behind him.

He heard snatches of comments. " ... muscles, who'd have thought ..." "Such blue eyes ..." " ... in bed he must be ..." He closed his ears as best he could, and ignored the furtive touches people managed as he walked by.

"Please," Calder said, obviously pleased by the attention Daniel was garnering, "you act as if you'd never seen a handsome servant before. Quite the provincials, the lot of you." Gradually, the fuss died down and the party broke into smaller groups to talk, but Daniel felt eyes on him from all over the room. Calder led him to a chair with a pillow beside it, between it and another chair. "Settle yourself, Daniel," Calder said, gesturing at the pillow as he sat down. Daniel looked down and considered how best to achieve this without flashing everyone. After a moment, he knelt down. It stretched the fabric taut across his butt, but there wasn't much he could do about that.

"He is beautiful," said a woman walking up and taking the chair on the other side of Daniel. She was probably thirty, thirty-five, very pretty, but her eyes were cold and covetous. "May I?" she asked, and Daniel looked up to see her gesturing at him.

He turned to Calder suspiciously in time to see him nod with a smile, and a hand stroked down the back of his head. He shuddered as she continued down his neck and onto his shoulder. "What do you think?" Calder asked.

"That you're a fortunate man," she said. Her hand found Daniel's chin and pulled his head around. Daniel considered refusing, but he had a feeling Calder wouldn't like that. Survival was imperative. If he didn't survive, he couldn't escape and help Jack and the others. He turned to look into her face. "I wish I could see his mouth." Calder didn't say anything, but he must have made some negating gesture, because she pouted briefly before stroking her thumb across the gag. "What a shame."

He suffered through several more conversations like that one, and heard all about how intriguing, alluring and generally hot he was, if not in those words exactly. Calder allowed some of them to touch him but not others, and Daniel wondered why. Not that he wasn't glad when Calder didn't give permission for a new stranger to fondle him, but there had to be a reason. There was probably some political undercurrent he wasn't picking up on. It appeared that his mental connection of Calder to Tiberius might not have been so far wrong. Political favors traded for sexual favors. Unbridled hedonism at the highest levels ...

They hadn't seen any signs of this sort of behavior among the people of the city. Admittedly, they had been on guided tours, but if this was a normal part of their society, they wouldn't likely hide it from strangers, not if they were as isolated as they claimed to have been. It would be like ordinary Americans concealing that they kiss close relatives. It would never occur to them as an oddity, but there are cultures where such touching is taboo.

When one of the guests wasn't caressing Daniel's hair or face or shoulder, it was Calder, absently brushing his fingers across Daniel's cheek, tugging or twisting a handy nipple, and people watched avidly. Daniel tried to keep the cultural observer at the forefront of his reactions, but the rape victim was difficult to suppress, especially with hands all over him.

After awhile, Calder got up and pulled on the leash. Daniel rose, biting down hard on the bit to control his anger. He led Daniel over to a group of people where he started to converse about politics and the weather. Daniel listened, but the political talk was largely gossip, and without knowing the players, he was quickly lost. He stored it all up for later, though, as he might need it.

Calder was on his left, his hand absently stroking Daniel's chest, the leash pulled tight enough to keep Daniel from moving out of easy reach. When a hand insinuated itself on his ass from the right, Daniel looked over, startled. It was the man he'd talked about harvest rituals with that first evening. For some reason his name wasn't coming to mind. He smiled at Daniel when he turned, and the expression made Daniel's flesh creep. He clenched his fists behind him. There was nothing he could do. He wondered if Calder would object if he knew the man was taking liberties. His groping grew more intimate, and Daniel twitched away involuntarily.

This caused Calder to turn. When he saw what was happening, his eyes went cold. "Purvis, take your hands off my property." Purvis drew back his hand instantly, smiling unctuously. "Don't you have a report due on my desk tomorrow?"

Purvis got the message and made his excuses. Daniel was not sorry to see him go. The party thinned after that until there was only one guest left, a man of about fifty who was short and stocky, with gray hair and a habitual look of irony. Daniel had noticed him in the room because he had a charisma about him, but he hadn't approached thus far.

"Shall we move our conversation to more intimate environs?" Calder asked, still stroking Daniel as if he wasn't even thinking about it. Daniel cringed slightly at the word intimate. It brought unpleasant thoughts to mind.

"I'd like that," the man said, and Daniel was forced to follow while they made their way through the halls, talking about commonplaces. The pace they kept was difficult for Daniel to match with the leg restraints, but he managed not to fall, somehow.

The room they went to was a private parlor that had clearly been fitted for the purpose. Guards followed them and at Calder's nod, they unbound Daniel's arms and positioned him on a backless couch with his arms bound somewhat loosely above his head to either end of a foot long bar, and his feet bound similarly at the other end of the couch. Both bars seemed to turn freely on whatever they were attached to, which meant that the men could position Daniel however they wanted to without untying him. He started out on his back.

Both men looked down at him as the guards left, and Daniel felt himself grow chill. This was more than he'd bargained for even as a cultural observer. He felt his heart start to speed up.

"Calder, in a group that size, a modesty cloth is well and good, it makes the boundaries clear, but between old friends?"

"No, you're quite right," Calder said, and he bent to the fastenings on Daniel's left hip. Daniel shook his head and growled audibly if not coherently, but Calder removed the narrow strip of fabric nonetheless, leaving Daniel bare of any protection at all.

"He's not happy, is he?" asked the man, whose name Daniel still had not heard. He was smiling down at Daniel, an amused twinkle in his eyes. "Have you tasted him yet?" he asked, reaching out and pulling down on Daniel's penis.

Daniel spasmed, trying to move away, but Calder sat down on the couch beside his left hip, and the man sat down on the other side, pinning him between them, the man's hand still on his penis.

"Not yet," Calder said. "I was waiting. If you'd like --"

"No, no." The older man shook his head and shifted his attention from Daniel's penis to his balls. "I wouldn't dream of it, but once you have, let me know."

Daniel clenched his teeth on the bit. This was plumbing new depths of misery. They were calmly discussing him as if he were a bottle of wine that hadn't yet been uncorked.

"Could you remove the gag?"

Calder pursed his lips. "He has a mouth on him, Daros."

Daros smiled ironically. "That's why I want you to remove the gag."

"That's not what I meant," Calder said irritably. "He's impudent and untrained. He doesn't know his place."

"I think I can handle a little verbal abuse, Calder," Daros replied. "I want to see his mouth. Purvis said his lips are ..." As Daros spoke, Calder began to remove the gag, and the older man's voice trailed off when he got a look at Daniel's face. "Well, for once Purvis doesn't exaggerate." Daniel worked his jaw, keeping his thoughts to himself. They wouldn't help him with either of these two.

"I'm not happy that he's been talking, though," Calder said.

"With the pressure everyone's been putting on him to find out all the details, you can hardly blame him for letting a few slip." Calder reached out and started twirling the nub of Daniel's left nipple, making him cringe away as much as possible. The fingers tightened and he stopped trying to move. With one of them massaging his balls and the other one pinching his nipple, he was fairly well covered. Daniel wanted to kick both their heads in, but not only was he bound, he was barefoot. If he tried, he'd break his foot, and then how would he escape?

"Is harvest going to be on time this season?" Daros asked in a bizarre non sequitur.

"It should be," Calder replied. "We're not having any real problems with either the plants or the workers. The second growing season will be able to start when it's supposed to for once."

It was surreal to hear this conversation while they were molesting him.

"Good. That should leave plenty of time for the pazures to grow big and juicy. The last couple of years they've been kind of puny."

Calder glanced up, and Daniel saw that there was a clock of some kind on the wall. He looked at Daros, a half-smile on his face. "So, how would you like some time alone with him?"

Daniel's eyes widened and so did Daros's. "I'd be delighted," he replied. His eyes narrowed slightly and he looked with mild suspicion at Calder. "Why? What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing," Calder said airily, in a way that meant very clearly that he had something specific in mind but wasn't going to share right now.

"I see." Daros looked down at Daniel's eyes, and Daniel turned away, sickened by the pleasure he saw there. "Certainly. I'd love to have him all to myself."

"Well, then ..." Calder stood up. "Enjoy yourself, enjoy him. I don't know how long I'll be away, but the business I have to do should take at least an hour, maybe more."

Daniel didn't believe what he was hearing. Calder was leaving him alone with this man. What business did he have to transact at this hour anyway? He watched in shock as Calder left the room, then Daros gave his balls a light squeeze, drawing his attention back to the man who was looming over him. "He's gone, and I'm here. Your attention should be on me."

"Right," Daniel said, and his voice was unsteady.

"Don't fret," Daros said. "I won't hurt you." He stood up and began to disrobe.

"Are you planning on having sex with me?" Daniel asked.

"Of course," Daros replied, looking surprised at the question. "I'd be a fool to pass up an opportunity like this one."

"Then you're going to hurt me," Daniel said.

"Sex doesn't have to be about pain. What's your name, by the way?"

Daniel looked up at him and licked his lips uncomfortably. "Daniel," he said.

"Daniel ..." Daros sounded like he was tasting the word on his tongue. "I like it. Daniel." Under his clothes he was solidly built. Maybe a little overweight, but not flabby. "What's your preferred position?" he asked.

"I'd like to be at home, reading a book, actually," Daniel said. "Think you could arrange that for me?"

Daros laughed. "I'm afraid not, and if I could, I wouldn't want to miss out on a chance at this body for anything."

"There is nothing special about my body!" Daniel growled.

Daros looked at him for several minutes critically. "Perhaps not, but there is something special about the man who inhabits it, something deeply alluring."

Daniel closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear that he had some indefinable something about him that made rapists and other wackos want to play with him. Daros sat down beside him and placed a hand on his belly, stroking gently. Daniel turned his head away.

Daros bent and licked around the aureole of Daniel's right nipple, making Daniel tense. Very gently, the older man took the nub of the nipple into his mouth and began to massage it with his tongue. At the same time, he moved his hand lower and began to stroke Daniel's penis. This was very different from Calder, but Daniel liked it no better. It was unjustifiably intimate if less violent.

Pain had the effect of dampening any possible physical reaction. The absence of pain made his body more susceptible to stimulation. Enough stimulation from the zipper of a pair of jeans could make a man erect. Gentle, persistent stroking had the same effect, and to Daniel's chagrin, he began to find his body reacting. Daros reached out with his other hand and began to massage Daniel's right nipple, and gradually, erotic sensations from there began build, then to filter down to his groin.

"Stop!" he said urgently. "Please! I don't want this."

"But you do," Daros murmured. "On some level you do, or you wouldn't react."

"On a purely physical level," Daniel replied. "I know this game, and I won't play it."

Daros drew back for a moment and gazed into his eyes. "You do, don't you? How amusing. Well, that may make this more challenging, but I'm up for a challenge."

"Thrilling." Daniel closed his eyes and tried not to care what was happening.

Daros chuckled. "Now concentrate on what your body is telling you," he said, bending close and toying briefly with Daniel's nipple using teeth and tongue. The gentle, deft manipulation sent an electric impulse to Daniel's groin, causing him to tense and clench his fists, trying to damp down the reaction. "Your mind would cheat you of this glorious sensory feast," Daros murmured. His other hand massaged Daniel's right nipple. "Don't let it."

"I don't want it!" Daniel growled.

Daros straddled him suddenly. "There you go," he said in admonitory tones. "Letting your mind spoil things." Daros took an earlobe delicately between his teeth, one hand still gently stimulating Daniel's penis, continuing to encourage his increasing arousal. Daros's penis was growing hard, too, against Daniel's lower abdomen, promising worse things to come. "This is not a time for the mind," Daros said in Daniel's ear. He returned to nibbling, and Daniel tried to put his mind elsewhere. After several minutes, he spoke again, his voice low and husky. "Has Calder kissed you?"

"What?" Daniel asked incredulously, the question taking him by surprise.

"I won't take your mouth unless he has, a little matter of courtesy," Daros said, and Daniel's mind boggled at the notion that there was protocol for this situation. "Before you answer," Daros continued, "do recall that I can check your answer easily by asking him when he returns." Daniel grit his teeth almost wishing for the gag back. "Well, sweet Daniel, has he kissed you?"

Daniel nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Good," Daros purred, and Daniel's stomach turned over. "Then I presume you know the rules and will follow them with me as you would with Calder." Daniel looked away, but Daros turned his head back. "Answer the question," he said mildly, but there was a hint of steel beneath the surface.

"What's the question?" Daniel asked. "I didn't hear a question."

Daros nipped Daniel's ear. "Do you know the rules?" he asked, his voice a little harder. Daniel realized that he was pressing his luck. He nodded. "And will you obey them with me as you would with Calder?" Daniel shuddered as the man continued to fondle and tease his flesh. "Daniel?"

Very unwillingly, Daniel nodded again. To his surprise, Daros didn't follow up this sequence of questions with the obvious next step. Instead he buried his face in Daniel's neck and proceeded to kiss and nibble his way around and down onto Daniel's chest. Daniel grit his teeth against the sensation that was building in his groin. Persistent efforts on the part of his rapist were being rewarded with a growing erection. Together with that, Daniel's skin was becoming more sensitized to Daros's touch, which was making it harder to keep still.

Evidently cultivating sexual pleasure by causing pain in a partner was not necessarily the norm among Calder's peers. Just an enjoyment of unwilling partners. How secret were these activities? Was this sort of behavior tolerated or even expected in the ruling class, or were Calder and his little group of friends playing with fire? How did this culture govern sexuality? It was a question that he hadn't had the opportunity to --

His train of thought was derailed abruptly when Daros bit down on his left nipple hard enough to sting. "Where have you gone?" he asked facetiously. "Concentrate on sensation. You'll have plenty of time to think later."

"What does it matter to you?" Daniel asked, his temper snapping. "I'm nothing more than a set of gonads to you. If you're going to do this, get on with it and stop trying to engage my interest!"

Daros sat up suddenly and looked down at Daniel, who was looking up at him angrily. "You are considerably more than your generative organs, Daniel," Daros said, his voice smooth as silk. "I would not be interested in you were you simply a beautiful body. Those I can get in abundance."

Daniel closed his eyes. "I don't want to know this."

"Your skin is flawless, your mouth incredibly lush ..."

"I know what I look like," Daniel said. "Please stop."

"You may know what you look like, but it's clear that you don't appreciate what you look like, if you grasp the difference."

"I'm a linguist," Daniel snapped. "I could quote you chapter and verse. Do you want the etymology, the modern connotations, the --"

In the middle of Daniel's angry spate of words, Daros bent and kissed him, his tongue delving deeply into Daniel's mouth. Daniel had to concentrate to keep from bringing his teeth closed hard on that invasive object. He clenched his fists and endured the kiss. The hand at his groin never stopped, never faltered, and Daniel was beginning to have difficulty keeping himself under control.

After a long, intense kiss, Daros drew back. "I want you to stop thinking about words, stop thinking about what you don't want to happen and start paying attention to what your body is telling you."

"My body is not me," Daniel growled.

Daros squeezed Daniel's erect penis, and Daniel flinched. He felt the quickening of his heart rate, the flush ... he was damned well not going to. Not. Going. To.

"That certainly feels like you, doesn't it?" Daros said softly, and Daniel glared at him. "Lose yourself in the sensation." He bent to Daniel's chest again and redoubled his efforts to bring Daniel to the peak of sexual excitation. After several moments, he got up and grabbed a couple of thick cushions. He got Daniel to sit up and put them behind him, loosening the chain somehow so that his arms were still held above his head, but not so tightly that it was interfering with breathing. The cushions held him in a half reclining position. Then Daros lifted Daniel's left leg and slipped underneath it to straddle the sofa. When the shifting about was finally completed, Daniel's erection had lost a bit of oomph, and his legs were draped over the top of Daros's.

As soon as they were settled, Daros began to kiss and nibble and lick every part of Daniel's chest that he could reach. His hands went to work bringing Daniel's erection back to full force. When that had been accomplished, he reached under the couch and pulled out a little jar. Opening it, he pulled out a spicy smelling substance with which he liberally lubricated Daniel's anus without pushing inside.

"Please stop," Daniel said, gritting his teeth.

"The sooner you let your body rule your mind, the happier you will be."

"The sooner you get the hell away from me, the happier I'll be!" Daniel snarled. Then he gasped as Daros slipped a slick finger inside him. His fingers were larger than Calder's but less rough, and Daniel involuntarily tensed his muscles against the intrusion.

"Calder said you had a lover," Daros said. "But you feel too tight for that."

Daniel grimaced but didn't say anything. Telling Calder's friend that Calder was a self-deluded jackass would probably not go over well, especially if the words were repeated later to Calder himself. He bit his lip as another finger joined the first, working at stretching the opening.

"Let go, Daniel," Daros murmured. "Allow your body to feel this without interference. Lose yourself in --"

Daniel wanted to tell him to shut up, to keep his damned philosophy of hedonism to himself, but talking to him just caused him to babble more. He closed his eyes and tried to distract himself with thoughts of the stack of translations that was undoubtedly piling up on his desk. Would they call Robert back from vacation to fill the gap?

Daros's fingers were probing gently, reaching for something Daniel hoped that he wouldn't find, while his thumb massaged the sensitive skin between Daniel's scrotum and his anus, making Daniel squirm. He wanted it to stop, but there was nothing he could do.

Moreover, his body was responding treacherously to Daros's ministrations, and there was nothing he could do about that either. Pressure was building in his groin, and the skin all over his body felt sensitized. Daros's lips and teeth went everywhere within reach, his hands worked busily, one inside Daniel, the other fondling his balls.

Abruptly, Daros found what he was looking for, and Daniel gasped. His erect penis went even stiffer with the sudden shock of the sensation, and Daros chuckled again. Daniel's breath was shallow as he tried to keep himself from the inevitable reaction as Daros hit the spot again and again, making Daniel's head swim and his eyes cross with the malign pleasure that was pouring through him.

Release came finally, spurts of semen jetting from the tip of his penis. As Daniel's penis went flaccid, Daros lifted him up and shifted forward. Still shuddering and breathing heavily from his own orgasm, Daniel let out a groaning gasp as Daros entered him slowly, hands supporting his ass while gravity did its work.

Oddly, though his fingers were larger than Calder's, his penis was smaller, but he still stretched Daniel uncomfortably wide. Ripples of anguishing sensual response were still coursing through Daniel's body as Daros started to moan his own pleasure. When Daniel's ass rested as far down as it would go, Daros used his hands to shift Daniel's hips until his cock found the sweet spot his hands had found earlier. Daniel gasped, and his penis came to half mast. Then Daros began to grind and lift Daniel up ever so slightly and let him drop, slamming the head of his erection into Daniel's body. It was indescribable. Pleasure and misery intertwined. Physical longing warred with emotional revulsion. He felt stretched in fifty different directions, both physically and mentally.

Leaning up, Daros latched onto a nipple with his teeth, suckling till Daniel felt that stimulation shoot to his groin, increasing his unwanted arousal. Apparently, Daros was a master of extending his erections, because it went on and on. Slow, persistent grinding and minimal movement with regular taps on his prostate. It all had a predictable effect. Daniel's penis filled and began to throb even without being touched except incidentally. Daniel's thoughts were hopelessly scattered. He couldn't seize on anything long enough to distract himself from what was happening to him.

Daros's breathing began to come faster, his hands gripped Daniel's buttocks tightly as his need grew, and he began to lift Daniel higher and thrust harder. Daniel clenched his teeth and his fists and controlled himself as rigidly as possible. The repeated taps on his prostate were threatening to set him off again, but he was damned if he was going to let Daros do it to him twice.

Lost in his own world of ecstasy Daros failed to notice when the door opened and Calder entered. He stopped, eyes widening, and the door closed behind him. Daniel stared at him, horrified. Had it been an hour? It seemed an eternity. Calder pulled up a chair and sat down, a rapacious look in his eyes as he watched Daros use Daniel's body.

Daros gave a shuddering gasp and all movement ceased. Semen pumped into Daniel, hot jets joining the other waste in Daniel's bowels. Calder's eyes drank it all in, the man silently absorbing Daniel's humiliation as if it were a fine wine. After several moments, Daros opened his eyes. His penis slipped out of Daniel's anus, and gravity began to work. Who cleaned up after these sorts of events, Daniel wondered suddenly, disgust and shame combining to make him nauseous again. The secondhand witness to -- and possibly secondary victim of -- Daniel's rape.

Calder spoke softly in the quiet of the room as Daros slowly recovered himself. "Taste him if you like. You've always enjoyed that more than I have."

Daniel had thought Daros was unaware of Calder's entrance, but he turned without surprise at the other man's voice. "Really?" he said, his voice low and husky.

"He's ready for you, Daros," Calder said with some amusement. "Don't waste the chance by questioning it."

"I can bring him back if I want," Daros said, satisfaction filling his tone. "This is his second fullness. He is very responsive."

"I know," Calder replied, his eyes seeking Daniel's, a smug knowing look that made Daniel feel inside out and unclean. "But truly, I will enjoy watching more than doing."

Every minute in this room made things worse. Daros smiled and looked into Daniel's face with a lust that made Daniel cringe back. "There are times when I wish I could watch as well as do." Taking hold of Daniel's ass, he stuck a finger inside, wriggling it until he found the prostate. Daniel's eyes widened with further dismay, and Calder leaned forward, watching with eagerness. He turned his eyes away and met Daros's avid gaze. Misery washed over him, and he put his head back so he wouldn't have to look at either of them.

A tongue started at the base of his penis, ran all the way along the underside, then toyed with the head. Daniel quivered with the effort to control himself, though he wondered why he bothered. It wasn't going to stop them, and it was only prolonging the agony. Warmth engulfed the head of his penis, and slowly, Daros took him fully inside his mouth, his tongue and teeth teasing the shaft while his hand rhythmically tapped Daniel's prostate.

A shattering orgasm released him finally, and he found himself gasping, head spinning, heart sick and mind numb. While he was still trying to recover from the fact that he had ejaculated twice during a rape without the excuse of drugs or unnatural pheromones, Daros shifted upward and kissed him on the mouth. Daniel tasted the salt bitterness of his own semen and fought to keep his stomach under control. Throwing up might make him feel better, but they wouldn't be pleased.

The kiss was lingering and when Daros finally pulled back, Daniel felt utterly drained, and the anger in his gut was simmering without outlet. He wondered, was it Calder's turn now?

Calder opened the door again and ordered the guards inside. Daniel blinked. Surely not ... it couldn't be the guards turn. His gut twisted, but it was for nothing. Calder gestured at him and said, "Take him to bathe, give him an hour or so. I will send for him when I want him."

So Calder was taking a turn. Lovely. The guards got him onto his feet and took him out of the room. As he left, Daros started to speak. "Thank you, that was glorious. He's got such an air of vulnerability. Anytime you want to share, I'd be --"

Daniel tried not to care that he was filthy and naked, walking through the halls of this place with his wrists bound behind him and his bruises still partially coated with glitter.

He scrubbed himself thoroughly in the shower, then went to soak in the tub. His emotions were roiling somewhere, but they felt somehow at a distance. Heat seeped into his body, easing his physical aches, but nothing could ease his sense of failure and uselessness. He had escaped and gotten precisely nowhere. As he lay there, wishing he were home, a thought occurred to him. If he actually did escape, if he got away, they wouldn't be able to rescue the rest of SG-1 because Calder would kill them all. He had that sort of vindictive nature. Half the reason he was doing this to Daniel was because he thought Jack was Daniel's lover and he was angry with Jack.

The door opened and someone came in. Daniel started to sit up, to get out of the tub and leave, but it was Calder. "No, stay where you are," he said.

"Sir, he is not bound," the guard by the door protested.

"He will not attack me," Calder said, taking his clothes off, dropping them on the floor, and walking over to stand under one of the shower heads. "He knows better, don't you Daniel?"

Daniel closed his eyes and didn't say anything. What could he say? If he attacked Calder, his friends would suffer. The threat was clear.

"Daniel?" Calder called. "I require an answer."

"Yes." Daniel submerged his head under the water and tried to imagine himself somewhere far from here. Nem's planet would be nice. He emerged a few seconds later and shook his head to get the water out of his eyes.

"Did you not hear me?" Calder asked from the shower. He sounded a little testy.

"No," Daniel replied. "I was under the water."

"Did you enjoy your evening with Daros?"

Daniel grimaced. "How am I supposed to answer that?" he asked.

"With the truth," Calder said.

Somehow Daniel was certain that any answer he offered would be wrong, and that the truth was doubly wrong. "No, then, I didn't like it."

Calder walked out of the stall dripping and approached the tub. Daniel started again to get up, to get out. Not that there wasn't room enough for Calder, the guards, Daros and a few others in the tub, but he didn't want to share it with the man.

"Stay," Calder ordered, but Daniel stood and reached for a towel. Calder put his hand on Daniel's arm. "Do the guards need to bind you?" he asked, his voice hard. Reluctantly, Daniel sat back down in the water. Calder joined him, putting a proprietary hand on Daniel's leg. "So tell, me Daniel, who owns you?"

"My physical body is currently controlled by you," Daniel said, his voice steady as he spoke.

Calder raised an eyebrow and smiled, and his hand stroked Daniel's thigh lightly. "It's a good beginning. I thought giving you to someone else would make some things come clearer to you, and now Daros owes me an equivalent favor."

"That's great," Daniel said, looking away. He didn't like being used, but being used for profit seemed somehow worse.

"Now, I have news for you." Daniel looked back, startled. "I presume you know who Major Griff is?"

"Yes," Daniel said, his heart quickening. "Why?" How did Calder know that name?

"Your General Hammond has insisted on searching the glacier for your team. He has sent this Major Griff with others and very impressive equipment for ice survival." Daniel blinked and felt himself start to shake. Griff was here? In the city? "It was greeting him that delayed my little party," Calder said, his hand still stroking Daniel's leg. "And I left this evening to deal with a problem that arose as a result of his arrival."

Did anyone in the city know what had happened to them? Did anyone care? Would anyone tell Griff, or would he search the ice field and go home, having found nothing?

If only he'd escaped later in the day! It might have been difficult to conceal his recapture from Griff's team if it had happened while they were there.

"They are out there now, in the dark of night, searching for signs of you and your companions. Your people are most persistent."

"You'd do better to send us home now," Daniel said, leaning towards Calder earnestly. "You're right, they are persistent. They're not going to abandon us."

"When they are convinced that you could not have survived on the glacier, they will give you up for dead," Calder said, and Daniel hoped that wasn't true. He started to turn away again, but Calder caught his hand around Daniel's neck, pulling his face close. "You have no hope of rescue, Daniel. You are mine."

Daniel pulled away, his fists clenched to keep him from punching his tormentor. Calder reached out and pinched the nearest nipple. Daniel tensed, but didn't not turn back. Calder pinched again, then yawned. "Go to bed. I will call for you tomorrow." He turned to the guards. "Provide him with clothing and take him to his room."

Daniel got up and dried himself off. He could feel Calder's eyes on him. The guard handed him clothing similar to that which he'd worn to visit that doctor. He pulled it on, trying not to notice Calder watching him salaciously.

As they approached the front door of the apartment, Daniel realized that he wasn't bound, and he considered his options. Jack would ... Jack would understand and approve, and it might not matter. Daniel knew where the underground was. He could lead Griff and the others there and they could all escape.

Abruptly turning, Daniel shoved one of the guards at the door. As he'd expected, it opened, but when Daniel dashed through it, he found himself caught between two more guards. They dragged him through the halls and threw him into his room. He slammed against the back wall and barely kept his feet. The door closed before he could reach it.

Daniel pounded on it, tears of anger, frustration and fear running unheeded down his cheeks. Calder would ... he would ...

Jack ...

Eventually, Daniel lay down the bed, curled up into a ball and wept.

Chapter Sixteen

Tor rose with the sounding of the whistle that awoke them all. He had not slept, but then he never slept. When all the others lay down for rest, he lay down, too, but what he did was not the same as what they did. He did not fully understand why he was different from the others, but he knew that he was. There were none here like him, so far as he could tell. He did not believe his fellow workers were even aware that he was different, so he kept to himself.

His efforts to remain apart were aided by his unwillingness to join the others in the communal shower. His stomach was abnormal, and it would lead to questions. There was a strange opening in it, and he had seen many of the men here with their shirts off, and not one of them had anything similar. As he walked towards the food line, it felt as if something moved within him, and he paused, his hand on his gut. Sometimes he thought that there was another creature within him, but that made no sense. Ignoring the sensations, he got into line for the morning meal.

He had only been here for a few days, so he did not know the names of everyone around him, but he believed that the woman spooning up the food for them was called Kegan. He took his bowl and his bread and nodded to her before walking on to find a place to sit and eat. There was an open spot on a nearby piece of equipment so he sat and began eating.

People got food and moved along. He watched without much interest. Kegan was selective in who she gave bread to. People who didn't receive any paused, waiting, then went on. Tor wasn't surprised that she didn't give anything to the blond woman who had come in the same day he had. There was talk all over the plant about the argument the two of them had the day before.

What did surprise him was that when she did not get any bread, the blond woman, Thera, did not just give in and go away.

"Where's my bread?" she asked.

"We're out," Kegan said.

Thera glared at the other woman but moved on despite the fact that there was bread visible on the tray behind Kegan. She walked over and sat down next to an older man, the oldest man in the plant.

"Why didn't you insist on her giving you the bread?" the man asked, sounding impatient. Teal'c watched them with interest. Something niggled at him, something familiar. They'd all come from the mines. Perhaps he knew them there, but the mineral damaged memory.

"I didn't want to keep anyone else waiting," Thera said. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters," the man said.

"Jonah, don't make a fuss. She doesn't like me. I can live with that."

The man got up. "I'll go and get you your bread."

Thera caught his arm. "No, Jonah. It's fine."

Reluctantly, the man sat back down. "I'm not going to put up with it much longer, Thera."

"You can put up with it, Jonah, because it's the way things are. She won't always be on the food line. She doesn't serve us lunch." She shook her head. "It's okay. If you really want to make it up to me, split yours with me."

Jonah broke his bread in half and they settled to eating. Tor looked over at Kegan. She was giving bread to everyone, but now Supervisor Brenna was watching. The meal was too little, but there was nothing to do but tighten his belt. He stood up, placed his bowl in the pile with the others and started to work.

***

Daniel ignored breakfast and lunch. He couldn't stomach food knowing what he'd just set Jack up for, and for nothing. He'd barely gotten out the front door before being grabbed. The fact that Jack would have told him to do it made no difference to how Daniel felt.

He sat on the bed, his back to the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest. Calder had him flat over a barrel. There was nothing he could do. Sam, Jack and Teal'c were hostage to his behavior, and he couldn't ... wouldn't risk it again. He couldn't face it if something happened to one of them because he fought back at the wrong moment.

The door opened and he looked up. It wasn't the boy come to take his lunch tray, it was two guards. They grabbed him and dragged him along the corridors to Calder's room with what felt like haste.

"Get him onto the bed," Calder ordered. "Now!"

Daniel didn't fight as the men roughly stripped the clothes from him. Jack wasn't here. He wasn't going to do anything to make it more likely that they'd bring him. Calder jittered impatiently while they got him bound to his satisfaction. Anger rolled off Calder in waves, and Daniel wasn't sure what was causing it. He didn't think his abortive escape attempt would still be having so strong an effect this long after the fact.

He wound up face up on the bed, his butt held up in the air by a wedge-shaped pillow. Calder was on him almost instantly, nearly savage in his urgency and rage. He barely took the time to lubricate him before he rammed in, pounding in a way that made Daniel shift upwards on the bed. Daniel stared into his face, trying to see what was the cause, but Calder's anger didn't seem to be directed towards his victim.

Daniel lay there, motionless, while Calder attacked him ferociously. Calder spent himself inside Daniel's body, then thumped off the bed. "Take him," he ordered.

"Sir?" the guard asked, sounding a little startled.

"You heard me. The Council is demanding that he be sent below with the others. Take him."

Daniel listened in astonishment. Down below? With the others? Would he be stamped?

"Sir, should we let him get cleaned up first?"

"Yes," Calder snapped irritably. "Let him bathe, get him clothed and then take him!" They got Daniel off the bed and started to hustle him out of the room, but Calder called out for them to wait as they started to leave. He walked up to Daniel, took his chin in his hand and gave him a long, hard kiss. When he drew back, he glared into Daniel's baffled eyes. "Don't think you have escaped me, Daniel. I will have you again, I promise you that." He looked at the guards. "Take him.'

The guards took him to the bathing room where he got cleaned up. They provided him with clothes and took him from the apartment. Daniel was in shock. He still felt stretched from this most recent attack, but they were taking him through the halls of the administration building. He should try to escape, to reach Griff and his team, but he couldn't make his legs work properly. They took him to a medical room and strapped him to a table and left him there.

Someone else came in and gave him a shot. Daniel wondered who he'd be when he woke up.

***

Brenna gazed in shocked dismay at the body of the man she'd been given. They had delivered him, still dressed in clothes from above, to the stamping facility, knocked him out and alerted her to his presence. The file had reached her before she reached him, so she knew that this was the fourth stranger. She had to prepare a stamp for him, but it would be simple. There were no unusual demands placed on her for him. One of the standard stamps could be altered very slightly to fit his personality.

But the first step in bringing a new worker in was redressing them for the part, so she had stripped off his garments to find that he was a patchwork of bruises and ... and bite marks. Administrator Calder had told her he was serving in a different capacity. Now she knew just what capacity he had been made to serve in, and she found herself nauseated. It was not her place to judge the administrator, but there were things that were wrong and this was one of them.

Grimacing, she pulled the pants up over the handprints on his buttocks and hoped he wouldn't get too many questions in the showers. After all, he wouldn't remember where the marks came from. She might have to come up with an explanation to go in his stamp to help him deal with it.

She finished dressing him and started putting his stamp together. It would probably be better for him that he wouldn't remember what had happened, and at least down here he'd have productive tasks rather than rounds of abuse.

The process continued, she gave his stamp to the technicians who applied it. While she waited for the young man to wake up, she contemplated what tasks he could be set to. Unlike the other three, he had no known experience with any kind of machinery and was not exceptionally strong. Perhaps, after a time, she could get him transferred to a less dangerous facility. Perhaps the nursery. She'd have to watch him to see if he seemed a likely candidate for working with the children.

For the time being, though, she had to put him into some position in her plant. According to his file, he was in the profession of digging up ancient bones and artifacts, which, to her mind, suggested that his hands were probably strong and deft. He could be placed on one of the teams that serviced valves and such until she got a better feel for what he might be skilled at. As she considered this, she realized that he might prove to be the solution for another problem she'd been having. Kegan couldn't get along with women, but she was an excellent teacher. Of late, she'd been very abrasive and difficult to deal with because she felt slighted by her transfer from Section 23. If Brenna gave her the responsibility of looking after this new man, told her that he would need some extra care, it might help her to get past whatever malaise she was feeling.

That would put him on Section 25, which was fine. She didn't dare put him on 23, 19, or 22 because that's where his friends were. She didn't altogether understand why Administrator Calder had sent all four of them to the same facility. It struck her as unwise, but, again, he was the administrator. It was not her place to question his judgment. That answer was growing more and more difficult to accept as time went by, but her new man started to move, putting other thoughts out of her mind.

Brenna stood and walked over to him. He blinked up at her, his blue eyes full of confusion. "What -- where --"

"It's all right, Carlin," she said. "You're at the power plant, you've been transferred."

He sat up and looked around, wincing slightly as if in pain. "I have?"

"Yes. I'm Brenna, supervisor here."

He smiled tentatively. "Hello, Brenna." He started to move again, but stopped, clearly not comfortable. "I ... what's wrong with me?"

"You were ... hurt ... by one of the other workers in your previous placement," she said. "Your soreness should pass."

There was a flash of understanding in his eyes and then distress. "I think ... I think I ... I remember something." Intense trauma could break through a stamp, especially this early. She couldn't risk it.

She put a hand very gently on his shoulder. "It's all right if you don't remember anything, Carlin. It would be better if you didn't." At this stage after as deep a stamp as she'd used, he would be very suggestible. "Let's get you to our sick room. You'll be on light duty for a few days till some of your hurts heal."

"Of course, Supervisor Brenna," he said.

"Just Brenna will do, Carlin," she replied, and he smiled. There was something very sweet in that smile, and she smiled back. "Don't worry, you'll be ready to work in a few days, and then you'll join Section 25."

"Thank you, Brenna," he said. "It is my honor to serve." She took him to the sick room and left him in the care of Dolman, to whom she explained the barest outlines of what had happened to him. The infirmarian nodded, his brown eyes warming with sympathy.

Brenna then gave orders for Kegan to be brought to her office. The young woman came in, looking hostile to start out with. Brenna really didn't want to have to give her a mid-term stamp. She was so young.

"Kegan, I have a task for you that I think you'll be uniquely suited for," she said.

"Yes?" Kegan began to look a little bit less sour.

"We have a new worker, a man named Carlin." Kegan nodded. "He has limited experience with machinery, so he will need a great deal of training." This brought a light into the girl's eyes. "And he will need to be gently handled. He was hurt badly by a fellow worker in his last position."

"Why was he hurt?" Kegan asked. "What did he do?"

Brenna grimaced. "He didn't do anything wrong. One of his co-workers was night sick, and ..." Kegan was nodding, so Brenna let the lie trail off, allowing Kegan to draw her own conclusions. "He doesn't remember anything, so please don't discuss it with him. Just be aware that he might be a bit fragile at first. At the moment I've put him on light duty in the sick room, but when Dolman releases him, I want you to take him for training."

"Yes, Brenna. It is my honor to serve." Kegan went out and Brenna sighed. Things were getting very complicated.

***

The gate was open to P3R-118, and General Hammond could see Major Griff on the screen amid snow, both physical and electrical, but they were having communication problems. He'd known that the UAV was the weakest link in this glacial search, it just wasn't designed for such frigid conditions. Finally, Sgt. Harriman turned and nodded to let him know that they'd patched audio in again.

He leaned forward slightly. "Major, what's your status?"

Griff was wrapped so tightly that all Hammond could see was his eyes, the tip of his nose and his mouth as he shouted over the sound of the wind. "We've lost the UAV, and we're getting back now. But I have to tell you, sir, it doesn't look good. This place is pretty nasty."

Hammond grimaced. "No sign of them?" Jack O'Neill had been known to go off half-cocked in the past, and his two scientists were extremely persuasive people. He couldn't dismiss out of hand the notion that they might have gone out to explore the glacier if they'd seen some scientific sense in it, even without letting him know in advance. Still, it just didn't sit right. Jack was a better officer than that. He would have contacted the SGC to let them know of a plan that dramatic.

"Nothing I could see," Griff said. "I'll explain more when I get there, sir."

"Very well, major," Hammond said. "SGC out."

Harriman shut the gate down, and Hammond returned to his office, dissatisfied with what he'd been told. It was difficult to be certain, but he had the distinct impression that Griff wasn't comfortable being explicit while still on 118. It could just have been a desire to get out of the cold more quickly, but Hammond didn't think so.

He steepled his fingers. It didn't do to count SG-1 out. They'd been reported or declared dead more times than any other team, but they always turned up alive in the end. Trouble was, the reports Major Carter had submitted had people in the Pentagon salivating. Some of the metallurgical processes these people had perfected could revolutionize the production of weapons and armor, and if they had as low an ecological impact as Major Carter seemed to think they would, it would make everyone happy.

He didn't think the Pentagon would sacrifice the SGC's number one team for technological advances, but Administrator Calder had offered them an out. They could be presumed dead, honor could be paid to their memory, and Washington still could get what it wanted. Hammond was damned if he was going to let it be that easy.

He got to work on the roster of missions. That was always harder when he had a team overdue. Sending teams out was always difficult, he never knew whether he'd see those bright people again, or if he did, whether they'd be maimed or disabled, or if they'd have a different intelligence behind their eyes. When someone else was missing, though, it got immeasurably harder.

It was several hours before Sgt. Harriman called out the scheduled wormhole from 118. Hammond rose and went down to the gateroom to await the return of Griff and his team. When they came through, they were still wearing their snowsuits, hoods pulled up and bundled in tight, which surprised Hammond somewhat. He'd have thought they'd loosen their clothing a bit in the warmth of the city.

Griff came straight towards him while the others headed for the medical team that he'd ordered to be ready for their return. Ice and snow could have unfortunate effects on a person's anatomy.

"Major?" he said by way of greeting when Griff stopped in front of him. His nose looked as if the freezing temperatures had gotten to it, but he seemed to feel his report was more important.

Griff shook his head. "I'm sorry sir. There's no sign of them." Behind him, the gate disengaged, the brilliant blue energy dissipating in an instant.

"I understand," Hammond said. He'd hoped for more detail. "You and your team have been out there a long time ..." he started, but Griff interrupted him before he could send him to the infirmary.

"No sir, when I say there's no sign I mean literally not a trace," Griff said with certainty.

"What are you saying, Major?" Hammond asked with growing suspicion.

"I can't imagine what scientific reason Major Carter or Doctor Jackson might have had to want to check out those ice fields," he said sourly, and Hammond blinked. He knew Griff couldn't just be guessing. In his graduate studies, he'd focused, in part, on the science of glacial geology. It was one of the reasons he'd selected SG-2 for this mission. Griff wasn't done, though. "But even if they wanted to go out there," he said, "there's no way in hell Colonel O'Neill would have let them!"

Hammond considered carefully. "According to Administrator Calder, Colonel O'Neill believed the risk was acceptable."

Griff looked more than a little disgusted by this response. "I can't speak to that, sir, I'm not a diplomat."

"Off the record," Hammond said.

This seemed to be what Griff was waiting for. "They're not out there, sir," he said definitely. "No way!"

"Administrator Calder says they are," Hammond said mildly.

Griff glowered. "Then I'd say he's a damn liar!"

Hammond nodded grimly and gestured for Griff to follow his team to the infirmary. This tallied with his own impressions of the smarmy Administrator Calder and left him with a whole new can of worms. He went upstairs to contact the Pentagon.

Chapter Seventeen

Jonah was getting tired of these damned dreams. Every night he dreamed about following Thera -- sometimes he had to search pretty hard for her -- and every time he caught her she turned into a brown-haired blue-eyed man who gave him everything of himself. It didn't make sense. He wasn't interested in men. He looked at the men around him, some of whom were probably pretty good-looking specimens, but not one of them did anything for him. He looked at the women, and quite a few of them made him feel that ... that way. He looked at Thera and nearly had a meltdown. Why would he be dreaming of this man?

Thera had already gotten her food, and she had bread, which surprised him. Had Kegan ... no Kegan wasn't dishing up the food today, it was Wyma. He looked around for Kegan and caught sight of her with a man, coming out of the sick room. He stared in utter astonishment, not at Kegan, but at the man. As always, no name came to mind, but he knew that man. It was the man from his dream. It was the man whose body he had lusted after nightly since he'd come here. How was that possible?

His body reacted to the sight of him in a way that Jonah was not about to accept. He turned his attention immediately to Thera, and for once, it wasn't enough to distract him from troubling thoughts. He shook his head and narrowed his focus. Work and Thera. Thera and work. That was all he needed to think about.

And food.

And there was an itch on the bottom of his foot.

How did he know that man?

***

Tor found himself deeply troubled by the new man. Combined with the other two who seemed so familiar to him, he brought up memories that made no sense. Walking with them on green grass, eating extraordinary food with them, being saved by them, saving them. None of it made sense.

He tried to put it out of his mind and concentrate on his tasks.

His mind kept working on it though, refusing to let it go. Carlin, Thera and ... and ... Jonah. It was the wrong name. They were all the wrong names. His name was wrong. Tor ... it was not right. The day passed uneasily, and he did not know what to think. He was glad the next morning when he was set to working at a task that kept him away from the others. Without them in his sight, it was easier not to think of them as ...

He shoveled the ore into the burner, closing his thoughts to anything but making certain that his load got to the center of the heat.

***

Brenna was worried. The tensions developing in the plant were not good, and it was all surrounding the four new people. She didn't think most of the workers had picked up on it, but the group of them were circling each other oddly. Thera and Jonah were joined at the hip, though not by Thera's choice. She didn't seem to object, but she seemed bemused by the attention, as if she didn't understand its cause.

Jonah also now spent a great deal of time staring at Carlin, and Brenna was disturbed by the intensity of his gaze. Had some part of his memory remained, something that recognized Carlin as his missing man? If so, that could be incredibly dangerous.

She would have to make it work for a little while at least. Administrator Calder had insisted that they all be located in this plant. She couldn't suggest transferring any of them until enough time had passed. She just hoped they wouldn't do anything dreadful.

***

Carlin was glad he had Kegan to help him learn the ways of this place. She was smart, she was funny, and she took care of him. The rest of the people on Section 25 seemed a little scary to him, at least at first. The only thing he remembered for sure about his last assignment was a feeling of fear and anger ... he shook his head

He wanted to leave that behind. Brenna had said it would be better if he forgot, and that meant not trying to remember what had happened. That meant joining in here, getting to know the new people all around him. He just found the whole idea somewhat intimidating. Kegan helped him with that, telling him who was friendly and who was not.

"Don't get too close to Arven," she said, pointing at a large man with barely any hair. He had a mean look.

"Don't think I would, but why?"

"He has a temper," she said. "And he'll take it out anyone who gets in his way."

"Glad to know that," Carlin said, gazing anxiously at him. "Anyone else?"

"Mevor, the foreman of Section 23, she'll stab you in the back as soon as look at you."

Daniel looked over at the dark-haired woman as she ate her evening meal. She seemed peaceful enough, talking to the woman next to her. "You mean literally?"

"Don't be an idiot, Carlin!" Kegan exclaimed, but her tone wasn't unkind, just exasperated. She gave him a playful smack on the shoulder and he winced a little. She'd struck on one of those strange little bruises that covered his body. "Sorry," she said hastily. "Did I hurt you?"

"Not really," he replied. "So you mean she's just likely to ... what?"

"Tell tales," Kegan said. "You really have lost a lot, haven't you?" Carlin shrugged. "It's okay. Some of it will probably come back, and what don't come back, well, you probably didn't need it anyway."

"Right," Carlin said.

Kegan looked around the room. "Let's see, Arven, Mevor ... those girls over there are always laughing at people, but I guess there's no harm to them." Daniel looked and nodded, imprinting the faces in his mind. "Tofan is a good guy, and so is Leryn." She went through most of the crowd around them, and Carlin learned the names and faces as best he could.

Finally, he pointed at a couple of people in the corner. An older man and a woman, sitting close together, eating without talking. He didn't know how to put a finger on it, but they were not sitting close because they didn't have a lot of space, they were a unit somehow. "What about those two?"

"Not them," Kegan said, her voice gone harsh. "She thinks she's better than the rest of us, and he thinks she's perfect."

Carlin nodded. Such a lot of people to get to know. He'd only been here three days, and most of that had been spent in the sick room.

"Sections 17 through 25 odd, take the showers," called a voice from above, and Carlin looked up nervously. He hadn't cleaned up publicly yet, and he dreaded questions about the marks that covered his body.

"It'll be okay, Carlin. I'll be with you," Kegan said.

"You don't know, Kegan," he said miserably. "I'm ... somebody did some pretty bad stuff to me. I've got bruises all over everywhere."

"Brenna said it's not your fault, and that's all there is to be said about it," Kegan said firmly, pulling him to his feet. She found him a corner and fended off questions while he washed himself.

***

Jonah couldn't help noticing that the new man, Carlin, was covered in ugly bruises. Somebody had done a number on him. He paused in his thinking. Done a number? Where had that phrase come from? He shook his head. Must be an expression.

Regardless, they didn't look like the leavings of a beating. He edged closer, keeping an eye on Thera while trying to get a better look at Carlin. It looked like ... he blinked in shock. It looked like he'd had some kind of rough sex with somebody. One of those bruises was actually between his ass cheeks.

"What are you doing?" Arven demanded. Faced with a large angry man, Jonah turned away.

"Sorry, got distracted," he said.

"Don't."

Thera leaned close as he moved back towards her. "He's friendly, isn't he?" she said ironically.

"I don't want him getting friendly," Jonah replied, glancing at him. Thera looked at Jonah with wide innocent eyes, and he shook his head. She could be so clueless. "Don't worry about it."

She ducked her head under the water and walked out of the shower room, and Jonah followed her. They dried off and got dressed. They weren't the first done, nor the last, and Jonah wasn't ready for sleep. He saw Thera to her bed then started on a walk around the dorm. He got so cramped up over his work that he had to walk to loosen himself up.

When he was pretty far away from where everyone else was dossing out, he heard someone behind him and turned sharply. It was Kegan, the little bitch who would never give Thera her bread. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"I saw you looking at Carlin in the shower," she said, glaring up at him. "You stay away from him. He doesn't need the likes of you bothering him."

"The likes of me?" Jonah exclaimed. "What about you? Vindictive little --"

"What's going on here?" They both turned to find Brenna walking towards them. "Aren't you supposed to be with Carlin, Kegan?" she asked.

"Yes, Brenna," Kegan said, eyes wide. "It's an honor to serve." She hurried off and Jonah looked uncertainly at Brenna. If she knew what Kegan was doing, it wouldn't help things to mention it, and if she didn't, then why the hell didn't she?

"What are you doing way over here, Jonah? Why aren't you in bed?"

"I need to stretch out a bit after the day," he said. "Isn't it allowed?"

"No, it's fine. I just wanted to know." She nodded and walked on. Jonah watched her go. She seemed to be a reasonably good supervisor, but Kegan's little game with the bread couldn't go on. And what did she mean, 'the likes of him'? She didn't know him from Adam. He blinked. Who was Adam? Shaking his head, he finished his walk. Must be an expression.

Morning came and Jonah sat up warily. He didn't know what was going on in his head. That was the strongest dream yet. He glanced around, but no one seemed to have noticed his upstanding little citizen. Well, not so little. But he didn't understand. Why did Carlin make him feel ... both turned on and protective? He felt the same way about Carlin as he did about Thera, but he didn't think he'd ever met Carlin before.

Kegan must know what had happened to the kid, and saw Jonah as a threat. He shrugged and got up for work. Long day ahead, he needed his nourishment.

***

Tor was feeling more and more chaotic and confused. Memories were shooting at him from all directions, memories that made no sense. He did not understand it. He headed towards the food line with the others, but he kept looking around at the men and women around him. None of them seemed any more familiar than the others, with the exception of Thera, Carlin and Jonah, and he felt as if he had known them for years.

"Colleagues!" called Brenna from the platform outside her office. "Your attention please!" The others all gathered to stand below her, but Tor ... Tor wasn't his name. He shook his head. He didn't move from where he'd been standing, trying to get a grasp on the flow of memories in his mind, but it was all as slippery as a greased wrench. Brenna was still speaking. He walked over slowly and listened. "... heat the greenhouses for the next two months. Special merit to the workers of Section 23!" Teal'c looked around uncertainly as the others cheered. The ones who cheered the loudest were the members of Section 23. "Let us use this not as an excuse to work less but as motivation to work harder." They all gazed at her with rapt attention, but Tor ... Tor didn't know what to think. "Our world may be covered in ice but one day we will reclaim our place on the surface!"

"It is my honor to serve," came the chorus, but Tor did not join it. It was wrong. He looked around him. Everything was wrong. As the others moved towards the food line, he stayed where he was. The three he knew wound up together in the line, and Tor gazed at them, trying to remember what it was he had forgotten. It suddenly seemed incredibly important.

Kegan was on the food line again, and she was back to her foolish game with the bread. As always, most of them ignored it, but Thera stopped. She was clearly exasperated, and that, too, called memories to mind. "Kegan, how about some bread?" Thera said, and in Tor's mind he saw an image of Thera looking at another man, at a strange human, and then speaking angrily. There was no sound, but she seemed very agitated.

"Sorry, just gave away the last piece," Kegan said, drawing him back to the present. Tor found her behavior annoying and inexplicable, but Jonah seemed to be reaching the end of his patience.

"Oh here we go, every time!" Jonah said loudly. A few of the others peered around, seeming to know what was going on and agree with Jonah, but the new man, Carlin, just looked confused.

"What is your problem?" Thera demanded.

Kegan shrugged. "I don't have a problem!"

"And we don't have any bread!" Thera said angrily.

Carlin leaned around. "Is there a problem here?" he asked.

Jonah glared at him, eyes narrowed. "Stay out of this!" he snarled, and it seemed incredibly wrong to Tor ... Tor was wrong ... T ...

"Jonah, there are other people waiting!" Carlin protested, but Jonah didn't hear him, so focused was he on Kegan.

Jonah grabbed Kegan's arm. "Give her the damned bread!"

Carlin took hold of O'Neill's hand ... O'Neill? Tor . . T ... he stood staring, memories bombarding him as the man he knew as O'Neill threw Carlin over his shoulder to the ground and then leapt on him. Memories of O'Neill and ... and DanielJackson doing anything and everything for each other, each giving whatever it took to keep the other safe.

He ran towards them, shoving people aside, and dragged O'Neill off of DanielJackson. "This is not right! The two of you are friends, O'Neill!"

O'Neill struggled against his grip. "Stay out of it!

Holding on tightly, but not so tightly that he would break bones, Tor said, "We are part of something called SG-1." Another memory shot into his mind. "I am Teal'c. Do you not remember?"

DanielJackson had gotten to his feet and was staring at them incredulously.

"Somebody get this guy off me!" Jonah shouted, and several men dragged Teal'c away from the leader of SG-1. He had to get through to him. To them. He had to make them understand. Make them believe. O'Neill backed away and bumped into DanielJackson, and they shifted apart, glaring at each other. Samantha Carter was also staring at Teal'c as if she thought there was something wrong with him. What had been done to all of them? How had this situation come about?

Brenna came forward and Teal'c realized when she looked at him that she knew what was going on. Her eyes were full of hidden knowledge. "Get him upstairs!" she ordered.

"We don't belong here!" Teal'c shouted. The men started dragging him away. Teal'c fought back, but there were too many of them. "You must remember!" Teal'c yelled, straining to get through to them. "We must escape!!"

They took him into Brenna's office and shoved him down to his knees. One of them grabbed a pair of binders and snapped them around his wrists. A few moments later, Brenna came in. "Is he secured?" she asked.

"Yes, Brenna, but --"

"You may go."

"But Brenna, he is very strong, and --"

"I will take care of it," Brenna said and the men reluctantly left, shutting the door behind them.

Teal'c rose to his feet and glared at the woman. "I will not tolerate --" As he spoke, though, she pressed something on her desk and the wall behind her began to slide away. "I know what is going on here," he said angrily, stalking towards her, but before he'd gotten very far, two of the red-uniformed guards came in and grabbed him.

He shook one off and slammed the other into the wall. Brenna went to the door and called for reinforcements, and Teal'c went down, inevitably. Strength and training could only do so much against superior numbers.

They wrestled him out of the room and into another that he recognized. They bound him to the table and left him there. Brenna walked up, looking very worried. "Tor, you are --"

"I am not Tor!" he growled. "I am Teal'c, and you know that, do you not?"

"You must be Tor," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder and looking down at him very seriously. "I cannot protect you if you are not Tor, and you will be killed before Administrator Calder allows you to escape."

"I cannot accept that!" he snarled up at her. "You must release me."

"I am sorry, Teal'c, but I can't." She walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a syringe.

"You do not understand!" he shouted. "O'Neill just attacked DanielJackson! That would never happen. O'Neill would never harm DanielJackson, and he just began to beat him. You have done something terrible to them. You must stop!"

"Trust me, there are worse things that could happen to them," she said. "Some of them have already happened." She bared his arm and swabbed it with something cold. "I will look after them, and they will not be permitted to fight again."

"You must release us," Teal'c insisted. She stuck the needle in his arm. "We must return to Earth. There are people who will come looking for us."

"I hope so," she said, and he blinked at her, startled by the absolute sincerity he saw in her. She stroked his cheek sympathetically. "Now sleep, Teal'c."

He fought the drug, his symbiote fought the drug, but she must have been warned to give him a high dose, because he fell unconscious before he could say anything else.

Chapter Eighteen

Carlin found his job very difficult. He lay down in bed and glanced over at Kegan in a nearby bunk. She was a good teacher, but he was having trouble learning what to do. It didn't help that his thoughts kept returning to what Tor had said about his being friends with Jonah, though that hadn't been the name Tor had used for the man. Carlin couldn't quite remember the name, which seemed odd to him, because he could remember the names of every other person here, even the ones Kegan had only pointed out to him once.

"Go to sleep, Carlin," Kegan said, leaning up to reach over and stroke his arm gently. "You need your rest."

"I'm trying," he said, and he rolled over on his back. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his mind for sleep.

He was in a concrete room that he knew was underground, but it wasn't the plant or the mines, or anywhere else that he recognized as part of his world. The ceiling was high, higher even than the one in the plant, and there was a huge circle of glowing light. It looked like water, but it wasn't. A ramp led up to it, and he felt a great yearning to walk towards it, but something held him back.

He didn't know what it was. He turned his back on it and found himself in a small room with a window. He started towards the window, but hands took hold of him from behind, forcing his arms back and up, binding them with something hard and metal. The men dragged him through a confused array of images that flowed past too quickly for him to anchor on any of them. They wound up in a room full of beautiful things that Carlin knew. Carlin recognized this place and fear suffused him. The men stripped his clothes off him, and there was a confusion of images again, and he found himself face down on the bed, his rump in the air. Someone was behind him, about to ... about to ...

He screamed, begging for it to stop.

***

Jonah woke up, unsure of what woke him, but certain that something was wrong. He sat up and looked around. Movement on one of the beds caught his attention. It was Carlin, making those odd, abortive movements that people make when they're caught in a bad dream.

Jonah rose and ghosted over to him. It wouldn't do to wake anyone else up. Carlin would probably be embarrassed enough to have woken him up. He put a hand on Carlin's shoulder, and the man pulled away, making an unhappy sound.

"Carlin, wake up," Jonah hissed softly.

"No, stop!" Carlin moaned, and Jonah shook him lightly.

"Wake up, it's a --"

Carlin came awake all of a sudden and looked at him. From the glazed look in his eyes, Jonah could tell he didn't see him but some figure from his nightmare. He let out a hoarse cry and thrust himself back away from Jonah. "No!"

"Get away from him!" Hands thrust him aside and Kegan climbed onto the bed with Carlin. Taking him gently in her arms, she murmured, "It's okay, Carlin, no one's going to hurt you." She glared at Jonah. Carlin sank weeping into her embrace.

He backed away. Clearly Carlin wasn't going to react well to him. Maybe not to any man. It did shed new light on the marks all over his body. If they came from some kind of attack ... of course, Jonah did throw him a couple of days ago, so maybe he wasn't on Carlin's list of friends. Creeping back to his bed, he climbed in.

***

Carlin was learning something about pumps when the door to Brenna's office opened and Tor walked out. He watched him start towards the stairs, then Kegan spoke sharply. "Carlin!"

He looked back at Kegan. "Where's he been for five days?"

She followed his glance and said, "Recovering from night sickness." He knit his brows, not sure what she meant. Kegan shrugged. "It's a strange thing. There was this guy once, a couple of years ago who tried to smash his way through one of those skylights." She pointed with her tool.

Carlin followed the direction and blinked. He hadn't really noticed those, and he wondered what lay beyond them. "Did he do it?" he asked.

Kegan stared at him like he was nuts. "You would have known if he had," she said. "This place would have been buried under ice and snow and you would have frozen to death along with everyone else."

Carlin looked back up at the skylight and sighed. "Right," he said. "I wasn't thinking."

"Now, we've got to get to work. What did I say this was?"

He bit his lip, aware that he had not been paying attention. "It's a pump," he said hopefully.

She rolled her eyes. "You are gonna drive me crazy!" she said, but the grin she said it with softened the words. "These pumps regulate the overflow," she said, speaking slowly, as if to a dimwitted child. "You understand?"

"Yes, Kegan," Carlin said. "And ..."

"Sometimes they get clogged and you have to clean them out." She flipped up the top and showed him how, but Carlin still couldn't help wondering about Tor and what was going on with him. He'd said they knew each other, that Carlin was friends with Jonah. And Thera, too, maybe. He wasn't clear on that. It was all too confusing. "Come on, Carlin," Kegan said. "We got work to do."

They went from pump to pump, checking them and cleaning them out when necessary. Finally, they finished up and it was time to clean the tools they'd used. After awhile, he noticed movement on Brenna's platform again. Thera walked up to the door and knocked, some kind of writing thing in her hands. Not much interested, Carlin started examining his tool.

"There she goes," Kegan said with contempt. "Why does Brenna listen to her?"

Carlin shrugged. "I don't know," he said, still looking at the tool. "She seems pretty smart."

"She thinks she's better than the rest of us," Kegan said quietly. Carlin found his gaze pulled to Thera's shadow, Jonah, who was working a ways off. Kegan looked, too, her expression unfriendly. "They both do."

Carlin pursed his lips and looked at the man contemplatively. "Teal'c said we were friends."

Kegan let out an exasperated sigh. "His name's not Teal'c it's Tor," she said firmly. "Night sickness." Carlin looked at her and shrugged, getting back to work.

He kept sneaking looks at Jonah, though. What if they were friends? What did it mean? And what did Tor or Teal'c or whatever his name was mean about escaping? Where would they go?

After awhile, Thera came out of Brenna's office, her step light and her hands free. Evidently Brenna had liked what she had seen. He saw Kegan look up and glare and wondered what Thera had done to make her so angry. Occasionally he thought Kegan judged people too harshly, but he wasn't ready to tell her that.

Night came, and it was a shower night. He was less nervous now, but still uneasy. The bruises had faded considerably, but they still made him uncomfortable. Memories bubbled close to the surface when he was naked in front of others. Kegan said he had nightmares, but he didn't remember them. He didn't want to.

After he was clean, he lay down and slept.

He was back in the concrete room, the blue light behind him. He turned to look, realizing that this time he was on the edge of the ramp. It felt very real, very normal to him. He knew that there were many rooms beyond this one, all as clean and light as this one, and full of people.

He didn't understand. Jonah walked out of nowhere past him and up the ramp. There he stopped, looking back. "Go ahead," Jonah said.

Carlin just stared, confused. "Go where?" he asked. There didn't seem to be anywhere to go, but he knew ... he thought he knew ... that there was something more than he was comprehending.

"The other side," Jonah said, and Carlin knew Jonah meant that he should go through the pool of light.

"Carlin!" Kegan called, and Carlin looked behind him, surprised to see her. She didn't fit here. Jonah did, somehow, but she didn't. "Don't listen to him!"

He turned back to Jonah, alarmed but still wanting to know, needing to know ...

His eyes opened suddenly and he sat up. The dorm. The other workers were all here. He lay back, thinking about the dream. It was strange. After a few moments, he sat up and looked around. Kegan lay sleeping near him, Jonah and Thera a few beds off. Putting his head in his hands, he tried to think. Jonah had told him to go through that pool of light, but it was only a dream. He shook his head. It had felt so real, but dreams could do that. The pool of light made him feel a sense of purpose, of dedication, something he had trouble capturing in his work on pumps. What was going on? Was he going off his rocker? He blinked, trying to grasp the meaning of that word ... rocker ... nothing came, but he knew it was a word and that it had a meaning. A simple meaning that would be obvious if he could just remember it.

Things were not as simple as they seemed here, he was beginning to be convinced of it. Something was going on, but he couldn't tell what. Taking a deep breath, he let out a frustrated sigh. Answers wouldn't walk up to him and slap him in the face. He resolved to find them, even if it meant facing the memories that slumbered under the surface of his mind.

When he found a break in his day, Carlin wandered over to where Tor was shoveling ore into the furnace. Picking up a piece of ore and fidgeting with it, he gathered his courage. "What happened?" he asked, gesturing at the bandage around Tor's gut.

Tor barely looked at him. "I was injured."

"When?" Carlin asked.

Tor didn't look up, but his voice was a growl. "Why are you speaking to me?"

Carlin walked around the ore cart Tor was shoveling out of so that he was more in front of the man than behind him. "I just thought ... uh ... since apparently we're friends from way back ..." He paused and Tor didn't seem to respond. "I just thought that ... what is that thing on your forehead?"

"A birthmark," Tor said shortly.

"A birthmark?" Carlin looked at him. It was odd, most of the men here scared him at least a little, but as big as Tor was, as intimidating, Carlin didn't find him scary in the least. "You'd think I'd remember something like that," he added.

"I don't know you!"

Carlin was getting annoyed. "You said you did, last week during morning line up."

Tor tossed some more ore into the furnace. "I wasn't here last week." He kept working, as if trying to ignore Carlin.

"You said we were friends and you said we had to escape, and I'd really like an explanation."

Tor stopped and glared at him. "I said no such thing."

Carlin met his gaze for a long moment, but there was nothing in Tor's eyes that suggested he believed he wasn't telling anything other than the truth. "All right, I'm obviously completely wrong about that!"

"Yes," Tor said firmly. "Don't talk to me again."

"Yeah, right," Carlin muttered, tossing the piece of ore into the furnace.

He went over to join Kegan, kneeling down next to the generator she was working on. Sounding tired, she said, "I told you to leave him alone."

"He was there Kegan," Carlin said heatedly. He rubbed his forehead, frustration consuming him. "You heard him! Why would he deny that?"

She sighed. "Night sickness affects your mind."

"That doesn't explain the dreams I've had." Kegan didn't meet his eyes, and he grimaced. "Something is wrong here, Kegan," he said. "Something's not --"

"Carlin!" Kegan exclaimed, glancing around as she interrupted. He grimaced, falling silent. "It's bad enough he named you as part of his delusion," she said earnestly. "Now people here you talking like this they're going to think you're night sick!"

His eyes narrowed. "People?" he asked suspiciously.

She stared at him, shocked. "Not that I would ever ... Carlin ..."

He shook his head. "No. No. No, of course not!" He forced a laugh and looked away. "It's just a dream!" Kegan reached out and rubbed his back. She played with his hair for a second, smiling encouragingly at him, then squeezed his shoulder again as she returned to work. Carlin just couldn't accept it. It was such an intense, such a real dream. There had to be something to it.

After several more minutes, he looked over at her again. "Kegan?"

"What, Carlin?"

"If people knew I was having these dreams, these nightmares, would they think I was night sick?"

She shrugged. "A couple of people do know about them," she replied. "And people have bad dreams, Carlin. It's normal."

Carlin blinked at her. "Who knows? I thought you said I was pretty quiet."

She glowered and glanced over at where they could see Thera and Jonah walking together. "He heard you first, one night. I don't know what he thought he was doing, but he woke you up and you yelled. A couple of other people looked up, but it wasn't any big deal."

"Why would he do that?" Carlin asked.

"I don't know. People do strange things sometimes. We gotta get this done, Carlin."

Taking this as an unsubtle hint that the conversation was over, he got back to work.

Chapter Nineteen

Brenna walked into Administrator Calder's office, Thera's suggestions for plant improvements in her hands. They were brilliant, but that shouldn't be surprising given Thera's background. They weren't, however, why she'd been summoned, so she gripped them anxiously.

Administrator Calder spoke before she'd even reached her customary spot in front of his desk. "Why didn't the memory stamp work on Teal'c?"

She had wondered if he'd wanted to ask her about that. "I'm sure it was the creature his species carries within them." She didn't want him to have to be killed, so she added hastily, "We've stamped him again, this time it seems to be holding."

The administrator pursed his lips, looking dissatisfied, but he didn't pursue it. "And what about the others?"

"They're all proving to be excellent workers." It was a perfect opening. "In fact, Thera has some very interesting ideas for improving the plant."

Administrator Calder knit his eyebrows. "Thera?" he asked without much interest.

Brenna held out the metal folder and, rolling his eyes, he gestured her forward. "The personality we stamped Major Carter with," she said, handing across the folder. He covered his hand with a cloth before taking it, the way he always did when forced to take something from her, as if she were somehow unclean. As she started to back away, her eyes fell on the bowl of red juza fruit on his desk, and her mouth watered. The administrator scanned through Thera's ideas, his face unreadable. "We've been having some problems with the pressure overload," Brenna commented. "She suggested an automated relief valve which would relieve the excess pressure. If we didn't have to regulate the pressure manually it would free up workers for other tasks."

The administrator looked up, an angry glint in his eyes. "Maybe one day she could increase productivity to the point where we don't even need workers," he said, his voice cold and sharp.

Brenna was taken aback by his reaction. Licking her lips, she tried to think what to say. "What would be so wrong with that?" she asked. She knew he despised the workers, but surely he didn't think it was better for them to --

His eyes narrowed, throwing her thoughts off. "Well, I'm sure they'd fit right in," he said, just as if she wasn't a worker herself. "They don't even know that the city exists!" he continued. She knew he included her in 'they,' but his language, the implied shared contempt was ... was it an attempt to get her to join his point of view? Did he think she was stupid enough to fall for it as he held that metal folder with his cloth to insulate him from her contamination?

She wasn't going to concede the point so easily. "You could tell them," she said.

"That they'd been lied to all their lives?" he said incredulously, and in that she saw his point. She had no idea how they'd react if they knew she'd known all along what was up here. Administrator Calder wasn't done with his reasons, though. "How would the people of the city react when there's less to go around? When they had to make room for workers?" Brenna glanced automatically at the bowl of fruit. She suspected that there was plenty to go around, if people weren't gluttons.

She took control of herself. This was a dangerous way of thinking. She couldn't afford to give way to it. There were too many people's lives at stake.

"Right now in our city, Brenna, we have no crime, no unemployment!"

Crime? Unemployment? She wasn't saying that they would have nothing to do, and her people weren't criminals. "But --"

He shook his head. "They're happy where they are!" he said persuasively. "That's what the stamp assures." Had he forgotten that she got her regular stamps, too? How stupid did he think she was? She swallowed her dismay and kept her composure. He held out the metal folder with a grim look. "Do only what is necessary to ensure uninterrupted power."

She took it and watched him wipe his hands off after letting go of it. "Yes, Administrator," she said, and left the office. Her mind was in chaos. Her training, her conditioning, all the stamps that she had been given over the years, they all told her that she had no place judging an administrator, but she didn't want to accept that he would so blithely condemn them all permanently to the dreadful life they led underground.

The stamp could be used to fit people for society aboveground as well. Had he not considered that amongst all his other concerns?

She shook her head vigorously as she reached her office. This would not do. She could not go against an administrator, no matter what he did. She was a worker, a nothing, a nobody. He knew what was best. He must. If he didn't, it would mean ...

She went down into the plant and walked among her fellows, seeing that they had what they needed to work well and trying not to let Administrator Calder's words fester in her mind.

Returning to her office, she left the door open and sat down, pulling out the schematics of the plant. There was some trouble with the generators in Area 9 that meant they'd need more consistent monitoring until parts could be obtained. That would mean rearranging some of the shifts again. She marked the areas that needed the most attention at the moment and stared at them contemplatively.

A knock on her door frame some while later called her attention from her task. She looked up and saw Thera looking hopefully at her. Brenna didn't want to do this, but it had to be done. "Did you get a chance to look over my plans yet?" Thera asked eagerly. "I'd like to get started right away."

Before she'd even finished speaking, Brenna cut in. "We can't do the improvements."

It was like she'd cut the woman's legs off at the knees. Thera blinked at her, looking startled and very disappointed. "But you said before ..."

Brenna shook her head decisively. "No." She'd had a lot of time to consider ways to answer this question. "They would require the generators to be offline for too long ... if any of the critical systems began to freeze we might not be able to get them started again."

Thera nodded understanding, but wasn't giving up. "I agree there's some risk," Thera started, but Brenna cut her off again.

"Too much risk," she said, rising and handing Thera her folder. She didn't want to prolong this. Why couldn't Thera just give up? Even now, Brenna could see she was trying to come up with a more persuasive argument.

"Okay," Thera said, "well, what about my other ideas?"

Brenna kept her face as neutrally stern as possible. "I'm sorry. This plant is all that stands between us and the ice. Uninterrupted production is more important than efficiency." She sat down and looked at her schematics. "You may return to work."

Finally, Thera turned to go. Brenna's relief was short-lived, though, as Thera turned back almost immediately. "Brenna, I know you were excited about this," she said, her tone full of confusion. "What's happened?"

Brenna wanted to tell her. She wanted to talk to her. Thera was smart, pleasant to talk to, so very eager and earnest. Brenna genuinely liked her, and it was so rare for her to find someone she felt she could talk to that this was harder than it might have been. Bad enough that she had to refuse this opportunity to make her people's lives easier, but to destroy this woman's hope when so much had already been taken from her ... it seemed cruel.

She marshalled herself, though, for it had to be done. Pushing this with the administrator wouldn't help Thera, and it might harm her in the long run. "Well, I've thought it over," Brenna said.

"At least let me come up with a safer way --" Thera started, and Brenna started to get angry. She was trying so hard to make this easy, but Thera wouldn't let it go.

"Thera, please leave," she said harshly.

Thera's face went blank as she took in the rebuke. "It's my honor to serve," she said and then left, giving Brenna one last bewildered look as she went.

Brenna put her head in her hands after Thera was gone. She had no choice. It would be worse to lead Thera to believe that there was any hope of implementing her ideas when there wasn't. She wished the strangers had never come. Things would be so much simpler then.

***

Hammond sat at the head of the conference table waiting for all the men and women to settle down around the table. Kovacek and Griff were eyeing each other warily. The non-diplomatic teams always seemed to be at odds with SG-9, but so long as it didn't break out into open conflict, Hammond tried to handle it subtly.

"Sir, I have read Major Griff's report," Lt. Colonel Kovacek said. Griff looked up sourly, like he thought he knew what to expect. His nose and cheeks still showed the ill effects of his trip out to the glacier. "And after visiting P3R-118, I am in complete agreement." There was silence around the table.

Hammond leaned back in his chair. "And what brings you to this conclusion?"

"I think I'll let Lt. Pearce explain, sir."

Hammond turned to Megan Pearce, who was their business liaison on Kovacek's team. She'd been an excellent find of O'Neill's when on his last personnel run. "Go ahead, lieutenant," he said when it seemed she was having a case of nerves.

Clearing her throat, she said, "One of the businessmen I spoke to said a few things that seemed a little ..." She shrugged. "He told me that we should keep in close contact with our home base, and that we should be careful what we said and to whom."

Hammond blinked. "He did?"

"And he implied that our predecessors hadn't been as careful as they might have been, but he didn't get much more specific than that."

"That is very interesting, lieutenant," Hammond said slowly.

"I haven't had a chance to talk in more detail with anyone else," Kovacek said. "Once Pearce had related that information to me, I thought we might do better to discuss our observations in an environment we had a little more control over."

"So," Hammond said, looking around, "anyone have other observations to report?"

There was a brief silence, then Nguyn cleared his throat and Hammond turned to him. "It's not conclusive, but I took the time to grab Dr. Jackson's preliminary cultural reports and skimmed them again to make sure I remembered correctly." Hammond nodded. "He indicates that the culture has a history of taking those it deems to be unacceptable, criminals, traitors, prisoners of war, troublemakers, and enslaving them."

"I didn't see any signs of slavery," Kovacek protested, and the others nodded.

Nguyn shook his head. "Not chains and whips, no, sir, but that's a very narrow view of slavery. Cultures throughout our own past have had various ways of treating their slaves. Roman slaves in noble households often had better lives that common free people. I think ... I could be wrong, but it was pretty consistent. The people who served us during the meal, the people who guided us about, they all wore a sort of necklace. They didn't all look the same, but I think it might be an indication of slave status."

"They were also all young," Harmon pointed out. "Are you sure it wasn't just a fashion?"

"Yes, but I also noticed that all of the adults I saw minding children wore the necklace too. Many of the entertainers, porters in the streets ..."

"I think I know what you mean," Pearce said. "I wondered if it was some kind of working class thing myself."

"And there is something else," Nguyn said. Hammond looked at him. "It's clear from Dr. Jackson's notes that he wasn't comfortable there." Hammond raised an eyebrow. "It's Dr. Jackson, sir," Nguyn said. "The most culturally open man I know, and he wasn't comfortable."

Hammond sighed, nodding. "I understand what you --"

"Oh God!" exclaimed Captain Tritt, and they all turned to him. "That ... then ..." He shook his head. "I heard some people talking when they didn't know I was nearby. Two men. They were discussing a recent scandal."

"Go on," Hammond said.

"Apparently, Administrator Calder has ... well, he has some interesting tastes," Tritt said, flushing. "These men were talking about his recent acquisition and subsequent loss of a male servant. A personal servant. They got a little lewd about him, described him a little." Tritt seemed very uncomfortable, and Hammond had a sinking feeling.

He leaned forward and said, "Son, I can tell this is difficult, but we need to hear what you've got to say."

"Apparently he has brown hair and blue eyes and ..." Tritt swallowed. "They got a bit speculative on certain portions of his anatomy." He shook his head.

"Could you be more specific?" Hammond asked gently.

"Sir, the clear indication was of some kind of BDSM thing, but there was nothing said by either of the men that definitely suggested that the ... the servant was unwilling. They did say he talked so much that the administrator had to gag him for his ..." Tritt gulped. "For his public presentation."

Hammond felt his gut twist. Blue eyes, brown hair, talkative ... "Anything else?"

"I got the impression that someone made the administrator get rid of him, but again, there weren't any real details. It sounded more like they knew just enough to be fascinated, but not enough to know what really happened."

Hammond cleared his throat. "Well, as such, it's purely speculative, but it does add some insight to the culture. Now, did anyone observe anything that might make a rescue attempt feasible?"

Everyone exchanged looks, and then Kovacek said, "We wouldn't begin to know where to look, sir."

"We would know where not to look," Griff commented. "They didn't go outside. No way, no how."

Hammond grimaced. "Very well. Submit your reports and all of you, give some thought to how you'd mount a rescue under the circumstances."

Kovacek cleared his throat. "I have one suggestion, sir," he said.

"Yes?"

"I think my team should go back. The Pentagon wants to maintain contact with these people, and we can possibly find out more details about what might have happened to SG-1 if Pearce keeps up her contact with this fellow she was talking to."

Hammond glanced at Pearce who was nodding. "I think if I talked a little bit about Dr. Jackson and his many good qualities, I might get some more information."

"I'll give it some thought," he said. "Submit a proposal, Kovacek, and go over it with Griff. He'll be leading the rescue team when I send it, so find out what he wants to know."

They got up and left, and Hammond sat back. If Dr. Jackson was, or had been, in a situation such as Tritt had described ... rage began to boil deep in his gut. He wanted to know what had happened to his people, and he wanted to make whoever had done it to them pay.

Next: Part 2