Stargate SG-1 - Permafrost Read online

  STARGATE SG-1:

  Permafrost

  by Sally Malcolm

  An original publication of Fandemonium Ltd, produced under license from MGM Consumer Products.

  Fandemonium Books, PO Box 795A, Surbiton, Surrey KT5 8YB, United Kingdom

  Visit our website: www.stargatenovels.com

  METRO-GOLDWYN-MAYER Presents

  RICHARD DEAN ANDERSON

  in

  STARGATE SG-1™

  MICHAEL SHANKS AMANDA TAPPING CHRISTOPHER JUDGE DON S. DAVIS

  Executive Producers JONATHAN GLASSNER BRAD WRIGHT

  MICHAEL GREENBURG RICHARD DEAN ANDERSON

  Developed for Television by BRAD WRIGHT & JONATHAN GLASSNER

  STARGATE SG-1 is a trademark of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc. © 1997-2014 MGM Television Entertainment Inc. and MGM Global Holdings Inc. All Rights Reserved.

  METRO-GOLDWYN-MAYER is a trademark of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Lion Corp. © 2014 Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc. All Rights Reserved.

  Photography and cover art: Copyright © 2014 Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc. All Rights Reserved.

  WWW.MGM.COM

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written consent of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  Author’s note: This story is set before ‘The Tok’ra’(Part One) in season two of Stargate SG-1.

  Chapter One

  “Okay, so thanks for coming on such short notice.” Daniel shuffled the papers in front of him, sending them skittering across the table toward the rest of the team. “Ah, I printed off copies for everyone, so you can see it for yourselves.” He glanced up, adjusted his glasses. “This is what caught my attention, obviously.”

  “Obviously,” Jack echoed, although all he could see was a picture of what appeared to be a large rock. He caught General Hammond’s bemused look and lifted an eyebrow in response.

  Hammond wore his amusement lightly, a slight twitch of his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. “I think you’re going to need to explain that a little more fully, Dr. Jackson.”

  “Oh? Okay. Well, clearly it’s a rune stone. But what’s interesting are the runes themselves because—”

  Jack held up a hand; as usual, Daniel was jumping in at the deep end. “Back up,” he said. “Where did you get this?”

  “The picture? It was part of a paper published in the last edition of the Cambridge Archaeological Journal.”

  “So this is on Earth?”

  “Yes. It was found on a dig in Iceland this summer. That’s what’s interesting. Now, these runes—”

  “Daniel?”

  A beat of frustration. “Jack?”

  “It’s a week before Christmas.” At Daniel’s blank stare he gestured toward Carter. “Can this wait? People have plans.”

  “Um, actually, I don’t know.” Daniel’s brows beetled. “I don’t know if it can wait.”

  “Some old scribblings on a rock? They’ve been there, what, a couple thousand years?”

  “Three, actually.” Daniel sat back in his chair, looking irritable. “If you’d actually let me talk, you’d know why that’s significant.”

  “Three-thousand-year-old runes can’t wait until after the holidays?”

  “Colonel,” Hammond said, “perhaps we should let Dr. Jackson tell us why he asked for this meeting.”

  Jack spread his hands on the table. “Yes sir.” He darted a look at Carter, but she didn’t appear concerned despite the fact that she was supposed to be catching a flight out of town in a couple of hours.

  Daniel cleared his throat. “So – yes, Jack’s right, the runes on this stone are very old. Over three thousand years old. The paper in the journal describes them as possible antecedents of the oldest known runic alphabet – Elder Futhark – but they’re wrong. Well, in a sense they’re right because these runes certainly predate Eldar Futhark.”

  “Because they’re Asgard?” Carter guessed.

  “Exactly.”

  Despite himself, Jack sat up straighter; Daniel looked a little smug and Jack guessed he’d earned the right.

  “But there’s more,” Daniel said. “What the field archaeologists don’t know is what the inscription actually says. The alphabets have diverged considerably, so their translation is only suggestive of the meaning, and they’ve interpreted it as a grave binding, but—”

  “A what?” Carter asked. “A grave binding?”

  “A kind of spell, to keep the dead where they belong.”

  “And?” Jack chivvied. “But? So?” These longwinded explanations drove him nuts.

  “But,” Daniel said, returning his attention to the photo in front of him, “that’s not exactly right. What it says, and I’m paraphrasing here, is ‘Do not, under any circumstances, disturb this grave. If you do, you and everyone on this world will die.’”

  Jack glanced at Carter – always reliable for a pragmatic response. She returned the look with a slight shrug but didn’t comment.

  “Okay,” Jack said, thinking it through, “don’t all ancient tombs have warnings like that? The whole ‘Curse of the Mummy’ thing?”

  Daniel looked like he was trying not to roll his eyes. “Some,” he agreed. “But not written by the Asgard and left on a grave that predates the Norse settlement of Iceland by thousands of years.” He glanced at Hammond. “General, I think we have to take this seriously, even if there is a certain level of hyperbole in the warning.”

  “From what little we know, the Asgard have been pretty careful in their interventions with human populations,” Carter chipped in. “It seems unlikely that they’d leave a warning without good reason.”

  All of which Jack, reluctantly, conceded. He glanced at Teal’c who gave a slight nod, as if anticipating what Jack was about to ask. Knowing Teal’c, that’s exactly what he was doing. “Daniel,” Jack said, “let me take a wild guess here: they’ve already dug up this site?”

  Daniel shook his head. “No. That is, I don’t think so. But there’s a team up there right now, and they’ll be working on the long barrow through the winter. So...” He shrugged. “If it was me? I’d be in there like a shot.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said. “So I figure someone needs to tell them to stop?”

  “At least until we’ve had the opportunity to study the site,” Daniel agreed. He ran his fingers through his hair. “General, I’d like permission to visit the dig immediately.”

  Hammond, as usual, had listened to everything and said little until the arguing was done. “I trust your instincts Dr. Jackson,” he said. “If you think you need to be there, then I’ll make it happen.”

  Daniel smiled, sagging slightly in relief. “Thank you, General. That’s... Thank you.”

  Jack considered him for a moment, took in the shadows under his eyes, the tense line of his mouth. Daniel was worried and that, more than anything, meant Jack was concerned too. “I’ll tag along,” he said, “with your permission, sir?”

  Hammond nodded. “Granted.” He looked at the rest of the team. “Anyone else?”

  “Sir, they don’t need to —”

  “I’d like to go,” Carter said, before Jack could finish.

  He looked at her in surprise, but her attention was fixed on Hammond.

  “As would I,” added Teal’c.

  “Very well.” Hammond got to his feet, dismissing the meeting. “I’ll have Sergeant Harriman call the IDF in Keflavik and tell them to expect you.”

  Jack watched him leave i
n silence, aware of Daniel gathering his papers while Carter took her plastic coffee cup and dumped it in the trash.

  “You know,” Daniel said into the quiet that had fallen, “as much as I appreciate the backup, I didn’t intend to get in the way of anyone’s Christmas plans.”

  Jack stretched out his legs, easing a little stiffness in his lower back. “Nah, we’ll be home in a couple days.” Not that he’d had any Christmas plans for the past three years, the fact of which everyone was acutely aware. “Besides,” he added, before it got awkward, “Iceland sounds like a festive kind of place. Maybe we’ll see Santa.”

  “I think he lives in Lapland, sir,” Carter said with a smile.

  He tapped his nose. “That’s just what they want you to believe, Captain.”

  Her smile turned into a brief grin, but she didn’t argue the point.

  “Santa Claus,” Teal’c said, as Daniel finally got all his crap together and led the way back down to the control room, “is a fiction, invented for children, is he not?”

  “Well, actually,” Daniel said, “the origins of Santa Claus are ancient. That is, not Ancient ancient, but very old. Many societies have a similar figure at the heart of their winter solstice festivities, and, in fact, Norse mythology places Odin and Frejya...”

  Jack let Daniel ramble on as he disappeared down the stairs, but he stopped Carter with a hand on her arm as she was about to follow. “Hey,” he said quietly, once they were alone. “What’s going on? I thought you were heading out to California tonight.”

  Lips tight, she made a face that said, I don’t want to talk about it.

  “Change of plans?”

  A shrug. “It’s complicated,sir,” she said. “Family. You know?”

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “So you’re spending Christmas where, exactly?”

  Silence. She looked awkward; it was awkward.

  “Carter?”

  “Sir—”

  “Swear to God, Carter, if you tell me you’re spending Christmas on base...”

  “Well, aren’t you?” There was a note of challenge in her voice that wasn’t entirely appropriate, but he cut her some slack because he knew what it was like to be alone at Christmas. Alone and pitied. The pity was the worst of it.

  “Actually,” he said, keeping it light, “I’m going to spend the holidays teaching Teal’c to ski.”

  “Really?” Her surprise was unfeigned and jolted her irritation away. “Teal’c on skis? Is that wise?”

  “Probably not, but it’ll be fun. And that’s the point.” He gestured for her to precede him down the stairs. “You should tag along.”

  She laughed. “I don’t know, sir, it sounds dangerous.”

  “Well, you know me, Carter. I tweak the nose-hairs of danger, spit in the eye of stupid ideas.”

  “Yes sir,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice even though he couldn’t see her face. “Of course, we might end up spending the holidays in Iceland with Daniel, if things don’t go according to plan.”

  “Oh, come on,” he said, following her across the control room and down into the corridor beyond. “We’re babysitting a couple of geeks digging up an ancient ‘Do Not Enter’ sign. What could possibly go wrong?”

  She threw him a sideways glance. “Is that a rhetorical question, sir, or do you want me to make a list?”

  The Icelandic Defence Force had been based at the Naval Air Station, Keflavik, since the early fifties, a legacy of the Cold War. Although under US Naval command, NASKEF had a small USAF contingent and as the C5 made its final approach over the bleak Icelandic landscape, Jack wasn’t sorry he’d avoided being stationed there. So far. If Kinsey had his way, this was exactly the sort of nowhere in which he’d find himself until retirement.

  They’d flown Space-A from RAF Lakenheath – one of Jack’s old stomping grounds, back in the day – and were the only passengers on board. Turned out that Iceland, in the middle of winter, was at the top of nobody’s list of vacation hotspots.

  “It is growing dark,” Teal’c shouted over the noise of the C5’s engines. “Yet it is only two hours past noon.”

  “We’re on the edge of the Arctic Circle,” Carter said. “At this time of year, the sun only rises above the horizon for a couple hours. Further north, it never does.”

  Teal’c looked unimpressed.

  “But you should come here in the summer,” she added with a smile. “Then, it never gets dark.”

  “A most inhospitable region of your world. I wonder that anyone lives here.”

  “Oh,” Daniel said from opposite them. “There are peoples who live much further north than this. The Inuit, for example.”

  “Are they forbidden to leave?”

  Daniel laughed. “No. It’s their home – their history and culture. In fact, a lot of what’s generally considered ‘Western’ culture has its roots in Northern Europe and the extreme seasonal cycles that defined life there. You remember what I was saying about the pre-Christian solstice celebrations? Well, they originated with...”

  Jack settled his ear protectors more firmly over his ears and turned to peer out the small window as the landing gear jolted into position. He had no issue with snow and ice, but the dark would be a problem. He tried to imagine living through a couple months of nothing but darkness... Yeah, been there, done that. It was enough to drive anyone crazy.

  There was nothing much to see once they’d landed. A few flakes of snow fell from heavy skies, drifting past generic airport buildings that were lit up against the gloom. A plow made slow progress along the runway, adding a fine spray to the banks of snow already piled up on either side.

  “Welcome to Keflavik, sir,” said the chirpy young sergeant sent to greet them from the airplane. “Follow me, please.”

  A Pave Hawk going through pre-flight stood close to the terminal building, its engine noise drowned out by the massive C5 maneuvering toward the hangars. Jack gave the helicopter a passing glance as they hurried toward the building, his vision obscured by the low light and the hood of his parka. Difficult to fly in these conditions, he thought, worse if it was snowing. He glanced up at the cloudy sky. The last thing he wanted was to be stranded at NASKEF for a couple days before they could get out to the site.

  “This way, sir,” the airman said, holding open the door. “Colonel Calvin is waiting upstairs.”

  “Thank you,” Jack said, waiting for the others to follow him inside, and for the airman to lead the way. “How long have you been in the frozen north, Sergeant?”

  “Eighteen months, sir.”

  “Having fun?”

  “Yes sir,” he said, and led the way up a set of completely unremarkable stairs. “The hot springs are pretty cool.”

  “Kinda defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

  The kid threw him a bemused look. “Sir?”

  “Never mind,” Jack said, and followed the sergeant into a small office.

  Lieutenant Colonel Calvin was younger than Jack and a head shorter, with an intelligent face and shoulders that spoke of too many hours in the gym on long, dark winter nights. He offered a salute, “Welcome to Keflavik, sir.” He nodded at Carter, “Captain.”

  “Colonel,” she said, snapping off a crisp salute of her own.

  “This is Dr. Daniel Jackson,” Jack said. “And Mr. Murray, our...associate.”

  Calvin’s eyebrows looked like they were trying to chase his receding hairline across the top of his head as he shook hands with Teal’c, but all he said was, “Gentlemen, welcome to NASKEF.” He turned back to Jack. “I have to say, Colonel, I was surprised by General Hammond’s request. It’s a little difficult to understand NORAD’s interest in visiting the Icelandic highlands in the dead of winter.”

  Jack gave a dry smile. “But isn’t it obvious?”

  “No, sir, not really.”

  He leaned a little closer, lowered his voice. “We’re tracking Santa.”

  Calvin didn’t respond for a moment and from the corner of his eye Jack
saw Carter swallowing a smile. But then the colonel barked a warm laugh. “I guess I asked for that.”

  Jack smiled too. “I promise we won’t be in your hair for long.” Then he winced and added, “Metaphorically speaking.”

  Calvin ran a hand over his thinning hair and shook his head. “I’m afraid you might be here a little longer than you think, Colonel.”

  “What do you mean?” Daniel said, in that way he had of seeming lost in his own thoughts and then jumping right into the middle of a conversation without warning.

  “There’s bad weather due to hit in the next twelve hours,” Calvin said. “I’ve got a Hawk on standby, and if you want to head out ahead of the storm we’re still within the window, but you’ll be out there a few days before we can come get you.” He gave a little shrug. “If I were you, I’d stay in Kef until it’s blown through.”

  “Actually, I’d really like to get there as soon as possible,” Daniel said, with a worried look at Jack.

  Luckily for Daniel, Jack felt the same. If they were going to be stuck somewhere cold and dark, they might as well be doing their job, not twiddling their thumbs. “What’s the flight time?” he asked Calvin.

  “In today’s conditions, approximately ninety minutes. Captain O’Connell is standing by.”

  “The people at the Kjölur site are expecting us,” Daniel said. “Once we’re there, we can stay a few days without a problem.”

  Jack gave a nod. “Thanks for your hospitality, Colonel,” he said, “but we’ll head out right away.”

  Calvin gestured to the airman waiting in the doorway. “Sergeant, tell O’Connell to expect Colonel O’Neill and his team, and escort them out once they’ve had time to kit up.” To Jack he said, “Good luck, Colonel. Whatever it is you’re looking for out there, I hope you find it.”

  “Thanks,” Jack said. “I’m kinda hoping we find nothing at all.”