106Chapter 1
Jonny ran across the uneven countryside, breath coming in sharp gasps, desperate beyond all measure to find someplace to hide. A stitch had developed in his side, but he ignored it. His pursuers were too close behind him for him to be able to risk stopping for breath. Besides, a momentary pause wouldn't help him much.
He didn't really understand what was going on, all he knew was that his brother had made this escape possible, at some risk to both himself and their father, he suspected. Jonny didn't like leaving them behind, but he had to go for help.
Assuming he could escape his pursuers. His brother had told him what direction to run in, and had given him a hastily scrawled group of symbols that were supposed to help, but Jonny had no idea what they meant. There was a sudden rushing sound behind him and he threw himself sideways to avoid the energy blast.
This sent him scrambling down a hillside, slipping and sliding, very nearly out of control. He was making a lot more noise than he would have liked, but they already knew where he was. When he hit bottom, he lay still for a moment, listening. Then he made to roll up onto his feet, but something slammed into him, knocking him to the ground and rolling him under an outcropping of rocks. He started to struggle, but the man who held him down shook his head, his green eyes locked to Jonny's.
Jonny lay still, waiting. Heavy footfalls sounded above them. Jonny could hear the voices above him, speaking the language that his father had seemed to understand when their guards had spoken to them just before those same guards had taken his father away.
Clenching his teeth, Jonny remained utterly still while the guards roamed overhead, then he heard shouts and yells, and the sounds of the energy weapons going off together with automatic weapons fire. The searchers moved off, away from where Jonny lay pinned underneath the green-eyed man. When the sounds had drawn off a bit, the man rolled out from under the rocks and peered up, and Jonny finally got a good look at him.
He didn't recognize the unit patch, but the symbol of the U.S. Marines was clear on the shoulder, and Jonny grinned. Hadji would be – He gulped and looked down, shaking his head. When he had better control over himself, he looked up again, opening his mouth to speak, but the man put a finger to his lips, grabbed Jonny by the arm and pulled him away from the sounds of fighting. One of the creatures must have been more canny than the others, however, because there was another rush of sound. Jonny threw himself sideways, shoving the man out of the way. He felt a jolt as the energy bolt grazed his arm, and the man fell down onto his back, facing the way they had come, and started firing. There was a series of thumps as the oddly dressed man with the strange weapon fell from the top of the escarpment and rolled bonelessly down the hill.
"Come on, kid," the marine growled, grabbing him by the upper arm again and starting to pull him to his feet. Jonny felt dazed and shocked from the aftereffects of the weapon's blast, but when he tried to put his weight on his left foot, he discovered another, more serious problem. His leg wouldn't support him.
"Shit!" exclaimed the soldier. "We don't have time for this. We've got to keep moving, catch up to my unit. There will be more of them along any minute." Jonny nodded grimly and, with the man's help, managed to move along, but at a much slower pace than either of them liked.
"Sullivan!" came a crackly voice over the man's radio. "What's keeping you?"
"That kid we saw, Major, he's hurt his leg," the soldier replied. "We're moving as fast as we can. But it's not like I can carry him and fight off the Jaffa at the same time."
"Got you, Lieutenant. Keep moving."
"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Sullivan said into the radio, then dropped his hand from the device. "I know this can't be easy kid, but we've got to keep –"
"Don't worry," Jonny said between grunts of pain. "I know. Thanks, by the way. And this may sound like a stupid question, but where are we?"
"Not sure what you folks call this place, I'm a stranger around here."
"Me, too," Jonny replied, but Sullivan didn't seem to hear him. They were suddenly surrounded by sound. More marines had turned up out of nowhere, and more of the creatures, the warriors that Sullivan had called the Jaffa. Energy blasts and bullets began flying around them.
"To hell with it!" Sullivan growled. "Sorry, this is probably going to hurt." With those words, he scooped Jonny up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and started running like sixty.
He was right, it wasn't the most comfortable way to travel, especially with his injured leg dangling and during a firefight, but Jonny hung on for dear life. Then they hit a clearing, but, though Sullivan slowed to a stop, he didn't put Jonny down.
"Dial home," said a voice that Jonny recognized from the radio, the major.
"Are we taking him with us?" another voice asked, sounding worried.
"I suppose we could leave him to the Jaffa," said Sullivan angrily, but the major interrupted.
"We're taking the kid, Thomas," he said. "Dr. Fraiser will take a look at him. It will be okay."
Jonny struggled a little and said, "Will you please put me down?"
"Sure, kid, sorry," Sullivan said, suiting actions to words as he lowered Jonny to his right foot, helping to support him.
"Thanks," he said. "And my name's Jonny." He looked around at the soldiers surrounding them. "You've got to take me back with you. I need your help."
"Why were they chasing you?" asked the major, Feretti, according to the patch on his jacket.
"I escaped," Jonny said. "But they still have my father and my brother, and you have to help them. I only left to get help, or I'd –" He made an injudicious movement and hissed as the pain shot up his leg.
Suddenly there was a whoosh of sound and the big ring of stone that Jonny had only noticed peripherally came to life with what seemed to be a huge fountain of water. The only trouble was, the water fountained sideways and then dropped back to pool vertically. "What in the hell?" he demanded, staring at it.
"Sir?" said a voice from nearby. "Major Feretti, he's speaking English."
"It's the translators," Feretti said. "You're –"
"No, sir, it's not. It's not coming through the translators."
Jonny was hearing them, registering their words, but he was still gazing in astonishment at the circle of stone.
"That's everyone!" called a voice from behind him.
"Let's move, then," ordered Feretti. Another soldier came up beside Jonny and they started moving forward.
Jonny tried to break loose. "No! My father, my brother! They're still back there with those . . . those creeps. I can't leave them –"
The first people walking towards the ring were enveloped by the water-like substance and Jonny had the strongest feeling that they weren't emerging on the other side – at least not here. His eyes found the edges of the ring and he recognized one of the symbols as being one of the ones Hadji had scrawled for him and which he still had stuffed in his pocket.
"Please, Sullivan, my dad, I can't leave –"
"Look, kid, if we stay here any longer, we're all gonna get caught. That won't help your dad or your brother any."
Accepting that logic, Jonny still didn't think he wanted to go through the strange portal. "What is that thing?"
"We call it the Stargate," Sullivan said. "It's fine, Jonny, you'll be just fine."
"That's just the littlest bit freaky," Jonny said, watching more people get swallowed up.
"Don't worry, kid," said the second soldier, an Asian man. "When we go through there, you're going to see some really odd things, but then we'll come out in a pretty normal place. Nothing to be scared of."
Then they were at the portal and through.
It was the strangest experience in Jonny's life, and that was saying something, but after a couple of minutes they emerged onto a metal ramp in an enormous room that rose high above him. "Close the iris!" called Major Feretti as he emerged behind them. "Got some hostiles on our tail."
Behind them there was a scraping sound and Jonny turned to see what could only be described as an iris come seemingly out of nowhere to block the circular entry.
"Stand down," called a voice from the floor and a man strode forward. He was solid and bald, with a grandfatherly face. "Major, who is our young friend here?"
"He was running from the Jaffa, sir."
"Jaffa? But there was no sign of the Goa'uld on that planet on our preliminary survey."
"I have to go back!" Jonny said. "My father and brother are still there, wherever . . ." What the hell . . . "That planet?" he asked, feeling the blood drain from his face. "I need to call Phil Corvin right now."
"Phil who?" asked the older man, his eyes going wide.
"Phil Corvin," Jonny said. "The Director of I-1. My father works for him."
"I-1?" the man repeated, eyes widening.
"Look, I'm not speaking Dutch," Jonny said in frustration. "I don't know what's going on here, exactly, but someone has taken my father. You –" He looked at the older man who was still gaping at him. "You're an Air Force general, sir," he said, decoding the markings on the man's uniform. "You have to have heard of I-1."
"I have, but . . . who is your father?"
Jonny opened his mouth to respond, but a voice from the back of the room beat him to it. "Dr. Benton Quest."
The general turned, and Jonny followed his eyes to see a vaguely familiar man emerge from the crowd. "Dr. Jackson?" he said hesitantly.
"My God, yes, yes, Jonny, it's me. What – how did you wind up on the other side of wormhole?"
"On the other side of a what?" Jonny asked in utter bewilderment.
Dr. Jackson opened his mouth but nothing came out, and Jonny grimaced with frustration as the man stood looking stymied.
"Explanations will have to wait, son, I'm sorry," the general said. He glanced to the side where a woman in a lab coat was emerging, eyes on Jonny, and nodded toward her. Turning back to Jonny, he said, "Let me introduce myself. I'm General Hammond, and this is Dr. Fraiser. Doctor, please take our young guest to the infirmary and give him a thorough physical."
"Yes, general." The doctor had brown hair and warm eyes, and she smiled at Jonny. "Come with me, please, Jonny. Sullivan, Ng, if you could give him a hand . . ."
"Sure, Doc," said Sullivan. "Come on, Jonny. She's no worse than any ordinary doctor." The woman gave the soldier a very dry look, but Jonny could see amusement in the brown eyes.
He wanted to protest, but now didn't seem the best of times, and his foot was really beginning to scream. Nodding at General Hammond, he allowed the two soldiers to help him out of the room, glancing back over his shoulder at the . . . the Stargate. Wormhole? Dr. Jackson's supposed to be nuts, but . . . Jonny shook his head. His father didn't believe that. Jonny wondered what explanations were waiting for, and hoped they would come soon.
Daniel watched Jonny as he was carried out by the marines, torn between going with him and staying to demand explanations. Before he could make up his mind, General Hammond took the choice out of his hands.
"Dr. Jackson, would you come with me?"
Daniel nodded and followed the general back to his office, questions doing an irritating polka in his head. How had a fifteen-year-old boy wound up on P(string)? Where were Benton and Hadji, and what had happened to them? Wasn't there a bodyguard? What of him? The wide variety of possibilities jostled in his mind for dominance, together with the potential ramifications thereof.
His thoughts were in such clamorous disarray that he didn't hear the general's question till he had repeated at least once. Or so Daniel guessed, from the impatience in Hammond's tone and stance.
"You know the boy, Jackson?"
"No, sir, not really," Daniel said, startled to realize that they were already in Hammond's office with the door closed. "I met him once when I went to talk to Dr. Quest about the possibility of helping us out with the program. General, how did – when – how – you surely didn't send two teenagers through the Stargate, even with their father?"
"No, we most certainly did not!" Hammond replied firmly.
"So how – when – what –" Daniel floundered.
"The operative question, Dr. Jackson, may in fact be 'who?'" Daniel blinked in momentary non-comprehension, but as General Hammond went on his meaning became clear. "That's why I wanted to know how well you know him. A lot may depend on determining if that boy is who he says he is. And even then, assuming he is Jonny Quest, and that he doesn't have any unwanted guests in his head, there's always the chance of brain washing or covert programming."
Daniel glanced toward the infirmary. "He's a fifteen-year-old boy, general."
Hammond sank his bulk into his chair, looking elderly. "Let's certainly hope so."
There was a knock and then Sam entered, closely followed by an extremely saturnine-looking Jack O'Neill. They had seen Jonny, he could tell by their expressions. Shutting the door behind them, Jack took up a tense stance in front of it, his hands in his pockets.
Sam surged forward immediately. "What's going on? Who is that kid in the infirmary?"
"That kid," Jack said in a distant, almost disinterested voice, a sure sign of extreme agitation, "is Jonny Quest." Sam turned back towards him, surprise writ large on her face. "And from what I heard he's just returned from P(string). Care to explain how a fifteen-year-old kid from Maine wound up on another planet, General?"
"I don't have any more idea than you do, Colonel O'Neill, and believe me, I do want to know." Hammond's face was grim. "It's not just the boy, either. He says we left his father and brother behind on P(string)."
"Sir, if they didn't use the Stargate to get off planet, then how?" Sam asked, and Daniel nodded. "I mean, there's no way in hell that someone could sneak three people onto the base and through the Stargate without someone noticing."
"I have to report to my superiors," General Hammond said. "But I can tell you this, there's a quiet APB out for the three of them. Apparently the last time any of them was seen was Thursday of last week."
"But if Dr. Benton Quest went missing, surely it would be in all the newspapers," Daniel said, shaking his head. "It's Wednesday, that's nearly a week."
General Hammond grimaced. "I'm going to call a briefing in a couple of hours when I have more information. When Dr. Fraiser has cleared him, I'm going to have to talk to the boy and see what his story is."
Daniel nodded and Sam, pursing her lips, followed suit. They started towards the door, but Jack hadn't moved. Daniel raised an eyebrow, but Jack wasn't looking at them. He was looking at General Hammond. "Do you mind if I talk to him, general?" Jack asked. "I went on the first attempt to recruit Dr. Quest, and I spent some time with all three of the kids while I was there. He might be a little more comfortable talking to me."
Mildly surprised, because he hadn't known that Jack had ever met the Quests, Daniel looked over at the General who was nodding thoughtfully. "I'd forgotten. Do you know the boy at all?"
Jack shrugged. "No more than an hour or so of playing ball can tell you about someone, but at least he has seen me in an unofficial situation."
"I think that's an excellent idea, Jack. You check with Dr. Fraiser and let me know when you go in to talk to him."
Jack nodded sharply, and then opened the door and the three of them filed out. Usually, they sort of congregated when they left Hammond's office, to discuss what they'd learned, but Jack didn't even pause. He headed straight for the infirmary. Daniel started to follow, but Sam said, "Jonny Quest? Isn't that Benton Quest's son? The Benton Quest?"
"Yeah," Daniel said. "The Benton Quest . . . the man who invented our translators and either part or all of some of our other equipment . . . that Benton Quest."
"Where is he, then?"
"Jonny just said 'they' have him. I don't know who 'they' might be, but he was being chased by Jaffa."
Sam's eyes grew round. "If the Goa'uld have Benton Quest . . ." Her voice trailed off.
Daniel nodded. "We're in big trouble."
Jonny bit his lip. He had a broken bone in his foot and another in his ankle, which meant he wasn't going anywhere without crutches for awhile. Dr. Fraiser said he couldn't put any weight at all on his foot. What he didn't understand is why she'd followed up the obvious x-rays and poking and prodding with blood tests, urine and stool samples and . . . why an MRI?
A sly little voice at the back of his head suggested that she was afraid that whatever had happened to Hadji had happened to him, too. The image of those glowing eyes, that malevolent expression that had briefly disfigured his brother's face flashed through his mind, but Jonny banished it, shaking his head. It could be fixed. Whatever it was could be fixed. He had to believe that.
"Well, young man, you appear to be in tip top health aside from today's injuries," she said. "A few bruises, some evidence of stress –"
"I need to call Phil Corvin," Jonny said instantly. "And Race. He's got to be worried sick about us. I have to tell him where I am." He looked around the infirmary. "By the way, where am I?"
The woman's mouth opened, and her eyes softened sympathetically, but he didn't need her hedging response to know she wasn't going to tell him anything. Jonny grimaced as she said, "I bet you're hungry. I never knew a teenaged boy who wasn't."
Jonny opened his mouth angrily to tell her not to be so condescending, but a voice behind him arrested his words. "Hey, Doc, if he's clean, why don't I get him some lunch?" Jonny turned in surprise to see Jack O'Neill standing behind him.
"Colonel O'Neill?" he asked.
"Yup," the older man replied. "I hope you don't mind, but I've got some questions I need to ask you."
Jonny glared up at the man. "I've got a few questions to ask, but no one seems to want to answer them," he growled.
"I'm sure you do," O'Neill said gently. "But there's a lot going on that we can't explain until we have a little more information from you."
"I need to call Phil, and I need talk to Race," Jonny said stubbornly. "And we've got to go after my father and Hadji."
"You aren't going much of anywhere for awhile," said the doctor, coming up with a pair of crutches. Jonny glared at her, but she didn't change expression.
"We've already got a team working on retrieving your family, Jonny," O'Neill said. "But, again, we need more information."
Jonny looked down at his hands. The doctor put the crutches in front of him and he took them. "Have you ever used these before?" she asked. Sighing, Jonny nodded. "Colonel O'Neill, make sure he keeps his foot elevated and ice it." She handed O'Neill an ice pack wrapped in cloth. "We can't cast it until some of the swelling has gone down."
"I'll take care of it, Doc," O'Neill said casually. "He's in good hands."
"I know," she said. "Now I've got to finish my report for the general. Bring Jonny back in a couple of hours, or sooner if you can."
O'Neill helped Jonny down from the exam table and between them they got the crutches situated correctly. Jonny swung forward, irritated beyond words as he followed O'Neill. Before they left the infirmary, there was a call from across the room. "Hey, see you later Jonny!" called Lieutenant Sullivan.
Jonny turned and gave him a feeble grin. "Thanks," he said. The marine just shrugged, smiling.
The halls were filled with military personnel from all branches of the service, and they all looked curiously at him. He suspected they didn't see too many kids in here from the way he'd heard people talking. He made note automatically of exit doors and phone locations. This might be the U.S. military, and he might be walking with a man his father knew, but that didn't mean everything was hunky dory. He had to get in touch with Race. His bodyguard had to be going out of his mind by now, and there wasn't anything he could do to find Jonny's dad or Hadji. Much against his will, Jonny had been forced to accept that things weren't nearly as simple as they usually were.
O'Neill took him to an office. When he opened the door, they both saw Dr. Jackson in mid-pace. He turned as the door opened and said, "Jack, I –" He broke off when he saw Jonny.
"You two have met, right?" asked Colonel O'Neill, looking down at Jonny, who nodded. All he knew about these two men was that O'Neill threw a mean baseball, and Dr. Jackson was sort of a renegade scholar, and that they'd both tried to get his father to do some work for the government at different points in time. He'd had no idea that the two men worked together, and it made Jonny unaccountably nervous.
"Daniel?" O'Neill said, and the anthropologist gave him his attention. "Why don't you call down and have someone bring us up some lunch?" Dr. Jackson nodded, sitting down behind the desk and picking up the phone. Colonel O'Neill looked over at Jonny. "Let's get you sitting comfortably so Doc Fraiser doesn't kill me, okay?" he said. A few winces later, Jonny was sitting on a fairly comfortable chair with his foot resting on a cushion on a folding chair, the ice pack draped over it. Dr. Jackson, having made his phone call, leaned back in the desk chair, his arms crossed while Colonel O'Neill flipped another folding chair around backwards and sat down across it. Both of them were looking at Jonny.
"What is this place?" Jonny asked.
"My office," O'Neill said. Jonny opened his mouth to respond angrily, but fortunately the older man didn't let it go at that. "In a more general sense, this is the Stargate Command."
Jonny nodded slowly. That was a partial answer, but it wasn't enough. "But where is that?" he asked.
"Under Cheyenne Mountain," O'Neill replied. Dr. Jackson was looking a little startled by this comment, as if he hadn't expected O'Neill to reveal this fact, but he didn't say anything. "So there's a couple of your questions answered," the soldier said, giving him a small smile. "You want to answer some of mine?"
Jonny shook his head. "I need to see Race, I need to tell him I'm okay."
"I'm sure someone's going to let him know."
"And bring him here?" Jonny asked urgently. O'Neill didn't answer, but from his expression Jonny guessed that the answer wasn't one he'd like. He dropped his head and looked down at his hands.
"Jonny, we really do need to know what happened."
"And you really aren't supposed to question a minor outside the presence of his guardian," Jonny said, glaring up at him.
"Your father –" O'Neill started helplessly.
"My father is missing," Jonny said. "And in that circumstance, Race Bannon is my guardian."
"I thought he was your bodyguard," O'Neill said.
"He's both," Jonny said shortly.
Both men were silent for a moment, then Dr. Jackson cleared his throat. "If it were up to me, Jonny, I'd call him right now, but it's really not. This is a highly classified project, and he doesn't have clearance."
"And I do?" Jonny asked dryly.
"Put frankly, no, you don't," O'Neill said, shrugging. "But that's not something we can help right now. And the less you tell us about what happened, the less we can do to help your father." Jonny looked down at his hands, clenching his fists in frustration.
There was a knock on the door at that moment, preventing Jonny from growling. Colonel O'Neill got up to answer it leaving Jonny to contemplate the truth of what they'd said. It was an airman with lunch. Sandwiches, salad and a carton of milk, each. Jonny took his and made a face, setting it on the corner of the desk that was nearest him. He wasn't particularly hungry, though he knew he probably should be.
When the airman was gone and the door was shut, O'Neill said, "So, what happened, Jonny?"
The boy grimaced. "At first it all seemed pretty normal," he said. "We woke up in a strange room, a little exotic but nothing too out of the ordinary." He shrugged at their stupefied expressions, giving them a wry grin. "I figured you'd guess that getting grabbed by bad guys isn't completely new to me from the total lack of hysteria."
"I had wondered," Dr. Jackson said.
Jonny crossed his arms tightly across his chest. "I'm not really supposed to be talking about stuff like this without an okay from Race or Dad or Phil."
O'Neill looked thoughtful for a moment, then got up, gave Dr. Jackson a quick look that Jonny didn't know how to interpret, and then he left the room. Left with nothing to say, both of them ate silently until Colonel O'Neill got back. Jonny could tell that Dr. Jackson was upset by the situation, but Jonny had grown up in a classified environment. There were rules that he just wasn't going to break, even . . . He grit his teeth so tightly they hurt.
When Colonel O'Neill came back, he picked up the phone on his desk and placed it in easy reach, keeping his hand atop it. Jonny looked up at him, hardly daring to hope. "Pick it up and press line 4, it will be Phil Corvin." O'Neill didn't lift his hand off the receiver. "Please don't mention the Stargate or the wormhole."
Jonny blinked and nodded, gulping. O'Neill released his hold on the receiver. Jonny picked up the phone and said, "Phil?"
"Jonny!" The relief in Director Corvin's voice was audible and slightly alarming. "Are you all right, kid?"
"I have a broken ankle and foot," Jonny said. "I don't understand what's going on, but my father –"
"Don't say too much, Jonny," Phil said quickly. "They've told me what I need to know. I just – are you okay?"
"I don't know, Jonny said helplessly. "I've only been here for a couple of hours. I don't –"
"Jonny, you'll be okay," Phil said gently. "And you really can't tell me anything." Jonny nodded, biting his lip. "Now, I've been asked to give you permission to talk freely to some specific people. Let me give you the list, okay?" Jonny nodded again, then murmured an affirmative because Phil couldn't see him. "General George Hammond, Colonel Jonathon O'Neill and Dr. Daniel Jackson. You should also talk freely to anyone the general tells you is okay."
"Anyone?"
"General Hammond isn't going to tell you to talk to just anyone, Jonny. Don't worry. You're with good people."
Grimacing, Jonny said, "Right. Okay, Phil. Um . . . does Race know where I am?"
"I'm calling him as soon as I'm off the phone with you," Phil said. "I'll tell him you're all right. Take care of yourself, and I'll call you again if I can."
"Thanks," Jonny said and hung up the phone, staring at it. That hadn't been as comforting or as helpful as he'd hoped it would be. If Phil couldn't know . . . if Phil wasn't going to tell Race where he was . . . did Phil even know where he was?
"You okay?" asked O'Neill, and Jonny nodded, taking a deep breath.
"Please, go on with the questions," he said.
Colonel O'Neill nodded, his lips tight with something that looked a lot like sympathy. Jonny looked away. "So," the man said, "you said it seemed almost normal at first. When did you realize it wasn't 'normal'?"
Jonny took another deep breath and managed to control his emotions. "Well, Hadji and I were laying bets about just how melodramatic this guy would be, based on the architecture and decor, when Dad suddenly told us to be quiet." Jonny bit his lip. "See the room was kind of a weird mix of Greek and Egyptian elements. Grecian style columns with cartouches engraved in the fluting, and all the textiles had Egyptian symbols." Jonny gulped. "All the groups of symbols were Egyptian except one."
The two men exchanged impenetrable glances, and then Dr. Jackson leaned forward. "What were the symbols on that one?"
"I don't know. Hadji didn't recognize them either, but Dad just about dropped his teeth when Hadji pointed them out. They were on a wall. He went right up to them and stared for a couple of minutes, not answering any of our questions." His dad's back had been stiff with more tension than Jonny had ever seen. "He whirled and looked around the room, looking absolutely stunned."
"Did he tell you what the symbols meant?"
Jonny shook his head. His gut went very cold with the recollection. "When he turned around – I've never seen him so –" Jonny shook his head. "He said that we had to be careful, had to . . . to try not to get our captors too angry. He said we couldn't count on rescue, and that escape might be harder than usual." He blinked, realization hitting him. "I bet he knew – I bet he thought –" He broke off, unable to finish the sentence.
Dr. Jackson cleared his throat when Jonny stopped speaking. "Can you tell me what the symbols looked like?"
He nodded. "Can I have some paper and I'll –" He froze. "Wait, my – there's something in the pocket of my jeans that you might be interested in. Hadji –" He bit his lip and shook his head. "Hadji gave it to me, said it would help get me home."
O'Neill held out his hand for the phone and Jonny handed it to him, then took the clipboard Dr. Jackson was holding out. He hadn't been on various types of scientific expeditions for most of his life without it having some effect. With workmanlike precision, he sketched out a couple of the symbols. After the strength of his father's reaction to them, there was no likelihood that he'd forget them in a hurry. He handed the clipboard back to Dr. Jackson whose eyebrows climbed.
"Why would Dr. Quest have recognized these?" Colonel O'Neill asked, pausing in his phone call to look down at the clipboard. His voice sounded harsh and alarmed.
"I showed them to him," Dr. Jackson said, "when I went to try and recruit him. The powers that be really wanted him in the program and gave me permission to make a pretty intense effort to draw him in."
"What do they mean?" Jonny asked urgently.
Dr. Jackson pursed his lips, seeming to notice Jonny's presence again suddenly. "Well, the phrase isn't complete, but it looks like it might be something as straightforward as the name of the room you were in."
"Why would that get my dad so upset?" Jonny asked skeptically.
"It wasn't the content," the linguist said, shaking his head. "I honestly doubt your father translated them that quickly, with as little exposure to the language as he's had . . . but . . . You see, Jonny, this isn't a human language."
"And my father knew that." Jonny meant it as a question, but it came out as a statement. After all, he already knew the answer, didn't he?
"Yes, Jonny," Dr. Jackson said. "Yes, he did."
O'Neill put the receiver down. "I've got someone bringing your personal effects, everything but your clothes, up here."
"Why not my clothes?" Jonny asked.
The soldier gave him an amused look. "Evidently they've already been tossed into a washing machine."
Jonny flushed. "I didn't want to put on what they gave me to wear, so I washed my own stuff the best I could."
"No criticism intended," O'Neill said. "Now, what happened next? Your father was warning you to mind your Ps and Qs, and then . . ."
"Then six guys came in," Jonny said, grimacing. "They had odd things on their foreheads, and those bizarre snakey pistol things. One of them spoke to my father in a language that neither Hadji nor I understood. Dad seemed to, though, and he . . ." Jonny rubbed his eye, trying to keep from crying in front of these men.
O'Neill picked up a box of tissues and handed them across to him. "I really ought to dust this office more often," he said obliquely.
Nodding, Jonny took a couple of tissues. "He spoke back, kind of like he was testing the waters, and one of them hit him across the face." Anger surged through him. "Hadji and I tried to stop them, but they fired those weapons at us, and . . . we woke up awhile later and he was gone. We were alone, and . . . and there was no way out." They had tried to escape when food was brought to them, but nothing had worked. They'd been two slightly built teenagers against a bunch of enormous men with superhuman strength and incredible weapons.
"Then what?" asked Colonel O'Neill.
"Then nothing, for three days. Just Hadji and me, and periodic food."
"And after three days?"
Jonny looked involuntarily over at the tissue box and Dr. Jackson put it in reach. "After three days, my father came back."
Their expressions told him that they knew what that meant better than he did and he hunched slightly. "It looked like him, anyway, but it wasn't – I don't think – it can't have been."
"No, it probably wasn't," said Dr. Jackson very gently. "Tell us what happened."
Jonny gulped, snatched out a couple of tissues angrily, and said, "He came in with those guards and spoke, in that language. I ran up to him, I'd been so worried, I didn't even hear what was happening, what he was saying." They were silent, waiting for him. Jonny reached up and rubbed one of the bruises on his face. "He knocked me to the ground. I was dazed for a couple of minutes, but I heard Hadji yelling. He got me sitting up, started trying to help me stand, but the guards grabbed him. He fought, but there was nothing either of us could do. The door slammed shut and I was alone."
O'Neill reached out and squeezed his shoulder and Jonny looked away. "I'm sorry, this may seem kind of heartless, but we do need to know." Jonny nodded. "What happened then?"
"Nothing," Jonny said through the lump in his throat. "Until today. Then Hadji came and it was . . . it was extremely strange."
"Was he different, like your father?"
There was a knock at the door. O'Neill got up and answered it while Jonny turned his head away. The door shut again and O'Neill walked back over with a small box. "Here's your stuff."
Jonny opened the box and pulled out the crumple of parchment. "This is it, this is what Hadji brought me." He handed it across to Dr. Jackson. "He came, and it was terrifying and bizarre. He was him and then he was not him. It went back and forth."
Dr. Jackson looked down at the scrawled symbols and his eyes widened in astonishment. "Look here, Jack, it's . . . it's the . . . it's the address for Earth, from P(string)." O'Neill looked down and then at Jonny's face. "And you say your brother gave this to you? After he'd been taken away by the Goa'uld?"
"The what?" Jonny asked, swallowing. "He was taken away by those men who were chasing me."
"Those would be the Jaffa," Dr. Jackson said. "They serve the Goa'uld."
"And what are this Goa'uld?" Jonny asked.
"I'm not sure we're authorized to tell you –" started O'Neill.
"Jack!" The linguist looked at Colonel O'Neill, who sighed.
"Right." He grimaced. "Go ahead, Daniel."
"The Goa'uld are . . . they're a parasitic race of beings that require host bodies to survive." Jonny felt his jaw drop and he stared at the younger of the two men. "They've been using humans for this purpose for thousands of years, because they can use their technology to keep human bodies alive indefinitely." Jonny looked over at Colonel O'Neill who nodded soberly.
"Are you saying that there's an alien living in my father's body?" Jonny asked. "And . . ." He paused, shaking his head. "And Hadji. That explains a lot."
"How so?" O'Neill asked.
"Well, it was like Hadji was having a fight inside his own mind, like there were two people inside his head. One of them had glowing eyes and an oddly distorted voice, and the other was just Hadji."
"And he helped you escape?" asked O'Neill, blinking.
"He came and it was like I said, there were two of them in there, fighting for dominance. One moment, he gave me an almighty shove across the room, the next he rushed over and apologized for the thing inside him." Jonny fought back tears at the memory of the desperate, horror-stricken look on his brother's face. "He said . . . he said he had learned a great deal, and that there was a way to get me home, that I would understand when I got to a circle of stone . . ." Shaking his head, Jonny trailed off. "He must have meant that Stargate thing. I thought he meant a circle on the ground, but . . . maybe not."
"And then?" O'Neill asked.
"And then he told me how and when to make my escape. I followed his instructions and started running."
O'Neill nodded. "Thank you, Jonny. Now I think we'd better get you back to the infirmary, or Doc Fraiser will have my hide."
Jonny looked at Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill. There was something he didn't understand, something he was missing in the way they were interacting. They knew something that he didn't, or thought they did at any rate. "What is it?" he asked. "Why do you look so freaked out? I could read your reactions up until I mentioned Hadji fighting that thing and then you both went all inscrutable." They exchanged another look and Jonny glared. "What is it?" he asked again.
"Well, Jonny," Dr. Jackson said, "it's really not possible for a human to fight a Goa'uld."
"Maybe you're mistaken," Jonny said. "Hadji helped me to escape. Are you sure he had one of those parasites in him?"
Colonel O'Neill nodded, grimacing. "The glowing eyes and basso voice are a good hint."
"Well, how do they take control? How does it work?" Jonny asked. "I mean, Hadji's got a really highly trained mind. He's got this whole astral plane thing going, and . . . I don't really understand all of it, but maybe that makes a difference?"
"Astral plane?" asked Colonel O'Neill, raising an eyebrow.
Jonny nodded. "I'm certain it was Hadji who gave me that," he said, pointing at the parchment. "Not the . . . the other."
"Well, Jonny, I'm very serious about getting you back to the infirmary. I suspect that Janet will call any minute to demand your return, so let's get you back on your feet, or rather, foot."
"Actually, Jack, I've got a couple of quick questions for Jonny, if you don't mind," Dr. Jackson said.
The colonel raised an eyebrow. "Do I get to tell Janet that you decided to delay his return?" As the two men glared at each other, Jonny was reminded of the way he and Hadji behaved on occasion.
"Sure, Jack, whatever," Dr. Jackson said, then turned to Jonny, giving him a friendly grin. Jonny raised his own eyebrows in amusement to see a couple of adults acting like kids. "So, Jonny, these questions don't pertain to today's events so much as to . . . well, as to your state of mind."
"Daniel!" O'Neill exclaimed, and Jonny looked at him in surprise, wondering what caused the strong reaction.
The linguist raised a hand and Colonel O'Neill subsided, muttering. "You made a remark about not being hysterical, and I wanted to pursue that a little." O'Neill crossed his arms, looking suspicious, but Jonny just nodded. "Now, to be completely honest, I put that reaction – or lack thereof – down to shock, but you implied it was something different."
Jonny shrugged. "Oh, there's probably a lot of shock in there," he said. "Loads of denial, too. But like I said earlier, this isn't the first time bad guys ever grabbed us." Maybe the scariest . . . he thought, shuddering at the memory of his father's iron hand knocking him to the floor.
The linguist's eyebrows knit. "I don't understand," he said. "Are you saying you've been abducted multiple times?"
Jonny sighed. "Dr. Jackson, my father is an internationally famous scientist who has doctorates in a number of different fields. He's done a lot of original research, worked for the government on classified projects, and so on." Dr. Jackson nodded, looking disturbed. O'Neill's irritation had evaporated, and he, too, was listening with interest. "He's also very rich and owns an international research and development company. I've lived most of my life in a pretty strange world."
"How so?" Dr. Jackson asked.
Jonny looked away. Talk freely, huh? Phil wouldn't have said it if he hadn't meant it. "My mother was murdered when I was six." They both nodded, but that wasn't surprising. It had hit all the papers and rocked the academic community. He cleared his throat. "Not a lot of people know why, but it was to shut down her research and my father's." Dr. Jackson's eyes widened. "Dad was supposed to die that night, too, but . . ." Jonny bit his lip. "That's when Race became my bodyguard. You see, people all over the world either want my father dead or working for them. We met Hadji, actually, when he saved my father's life. That was when I was seven."
O'Neill's eyes widened in shock. "How old was Hadji, then?"
"He was nine. He was charming snakes on a Calcutta street for loose change, and he used the top of the snake basket to block a knife someone threw at my dad's back." They were both staring at him. "See, there was someone making nerve gas in a remote facility in some hills, and testing it on local villagers. Dad was called in to investigate." Their expressions were stunned, and Jonny gave them a half-smile. "It's easy for people to dismiss my dad as a brilliant but eccentric inventor with a ton of money, but he's a lot more than that."
"But that still –" Dr. Jackson shook his head. "You implied that getting kidnapped is normal for you."
"Not normal exactly," Jonny protested. "Just not unexpected."
"But your father is an international figure," Dr. Jackson said, shaking his head incredulously. "If you were getting kidnapped, or he was, all the time, wouldn't it hit the news?"
Jonny looked around at the office, saw a picture on the wall of Dr. Jackson, Colonel O'Neill and a woman standing on a meadow with a gas giant looming in the sky behind them, and he had a feeling it wasn't a photoshopped image. Gesturing at it and at the odd ordnance lying around, he said, "Shouldn't this be making the tabloids at least? A good piece of my life is classified. That's why I didn't want to talk to you. I'm not really supposed to tell people that the last time I was held prisoner by enemies of the country was about six months ago, because the government doesn't want to explain what my father was doing at that point." He shrugged. "Or that Dr. Benton Quest's son was vulnerable to attack."
"This is just a little bizarre," O'Neill said, and Jonny could tell that the colonel was wondering if Jonny was trying to elicit sympathy or something.
"And this isn't?" Jonny asked. "Look, it happens. Someone decides my dad has something and they grab him, or they grab me and Hadji, or they grab all five of us, or any combination of the group. We get away, the bad guys are foiled, and life goes on." Remembering where his father was abruptly, he gulped and looked down at his hands. "Of course, usually Race is around, and we're not on another planet in the clutches of aliens." He let out a snarl of frustration, startling both his listeners. "This just sucks!" he growled. He glared at his foot. "I don't usually get hurt, either, but I think that energy weapon grazed me and threw off my balance."
"Energy weapon?" asked Colonel O'Neill in some alarm.
"Yeah, one of those snakey pistol things, you know." He looked at them. "You do know, right?"
O'Neill opened a drawer and pulled something out. "One of these?" he asked, holding out the object in his flat palm.
Jonny nodded, and Dr. Jackson said, "Isn't that supposed to be in the armory?"
"Yeah, well, sue me," O'Neill said.
"What is it?" Jonny asked.
They both spoke at once. "A Zat Nikatel," Dr. Jackson said.
"We call 'em Zat guns," O'Neill replied, "and you've really got to report it any time you've been hit by one, because two hits too close together are fatal." Jonny's jaw dropped. "Did you mention this to Dr. Fraiser?"
Jonny shook his head. "She didn't ask, and I wasn't thinking about it. It didn't really hurt me, just threw off my balance."
The phone rang and O'Neill reached out gingerly to pick it up. "O'Neill," he said. His eyebrows raised and he started nodding. "Yes, Janet. We were just bringing him –" He paused, clearly listening. "No, Janet, we only just found out. Yes, I'll have him there in a jiffy."
When O'Neill hung up, he stood up and leaned down like he was going to pick Jonny up. Seizing one of his crutches, Jonny fended him off. "I know how to use these as weapons," he said, glaring. "I'm fine. I can make it to the infirmary on my own, thank you very much."
O'Neill backed off, and Jonny levered himself to his feet. "Which way?" he asked. He'd followed sort of blindly earlier, but he wanted to know his way around this place as quickly as possible.
By the time they reached the infirmary, Jonny was feeling very tired, and his underarms were just slightly raw. The doctor had him back on an examination bed instantly and was looking into his eyes. "The general wants to see you two," she said to Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill, over her shoulder.
Jonny grimaced. "You looked me over really carefully less than an hour ago," he said to the doctor. "Nothing's changed, has it?" He blinked in sudden alarm. "Has it? You haven't turned up anything scary in my blood work, have you?"
Both Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill paused, looking at the doctor who shook her head. "No, Jonny, everything's coming up normal." She brushed Jonny's hair back from his forehead.
"Ah," Colonel O'Neill said, giving Dr. Jackson a significant look.
The linguist nodded. "Right."
"What?" Jonny asked, baffled.
"She's just gone all maternal on you," said the colonel, grinning. "Ride it out. Maybe it will pass."
The doctor turned and glared at him. "You know, colonel, your annual physical is coming up next week," she said, an arctic tone in her voice.
O'Neill rocked back on his heels. "And we both know you're far too professional to let anything like this influence you," he said complacently.
There was a pause, and the man's confident look faltered a little. Dr. Jackson's lips twitched. She crossed her arms and tilted her head. "No, I'm not."
O'Neill's eyes widened and he said, "The general wants us, you said?" She nodded. The two men turned to go, but as they left, Jonny heard O'Neill say very quietly to Dr. Jackson, "She was kidding, right?"
Dr. Jackson shrugged slightly and then they were out the door. Jonny turned to Dr. Fraiser. "I am all right, you know," he said.
She nodded, looking down at him warmly. "I know," she said. "But you need rest. Did you get something to eat?" Jonny nodded. She handed him a little cup with some pills in it and he made a face. Still, he swallowed them with the glass of water she handed him next. She smiled and brushed his hair back again. "Why don't you try to take a nap."
Sighing, Jonny lay back on the bed, wishing he at least had a little warm furry body curled up by his hip. Does Bandit need clearance?
