Jo Graham - Secrets

Jack marshaled his thoughts. “You’re telling me that you have a weapon that could kill all the Wraith and any human with Wraith DNA.”

“I’m telling you that we have an Ancient device that was designed to do that, that the first Wraith believed would,” Woolsey said. “Obviously we haven’t tested it.”

“So you don’t know if it works, or if it does what they think it does,” O’Neill said. The number of Ancient devices that worked the way they were intended to, with no side effects…

“That is correct,” Woolsey said.

Jack nodded. “And where is it now?”

“I told Sheppard to hide it. No one else knows where it is. I don’t know where it is.”

“Good call,” Jack said. Sheppard was the last person who would use it. It would be over his dead body, possibly literally. “And who else knows it exists?”

“You, me, Sheppard, Teyla, Colonel Carter, Dr. McKay and Major Lorne,” Woolsey said.

“And the Wraith.” There was that important point.

“Alabaster. Which means Todd — Guide — will know soon enough. And he’ll want it.”

Jack put his fingers to the bridge of his nose where a headache was building. You didn’t get much more above grade level than this. “And you’ve got this new queen, Death, marauding all over the place, not to mention the regular Wraith cullings. A weapon that could save thousands upon thousands of lives.”

“And completely destroy an entire sentient species,” Woolsey said dryly. “Genocide on a scale the Goa’uld and the Ori never imagined.”

“We can’t give this thing to Todd,” Jack said. He turned around. “You know we can’t do that.” Anger welled up in him, sharp and strong. How dare Woolsey make him play God? How dare he put it all on him, the millions of human lives lost to the Wraith balancing the destruction of an entire species? On him? “What the hell are you thinking?” he demanded. “You’re handing me a doomsday weapon and telling me what? You want me to figure out what to do with it? What the hell gives you that right? Why not the President or the Joint Chiefs or the IOA? Why the hell are you dumping this on me?”

Woolsey squared his skinny shoulders. “Because you’re the man who didn’t nuke Abydos.”

Jack took a long breath.

And that was where it all began. That was where the story started, the gate opening onto another world, the bomb that was supposed to close it forever. Five thousand people, five thousand ordinary villagers going about their lives, versus the safety of Earth from the Goa’uld. He could see it still, clearly enough to touch it, the blue sky of Abydos over golden sand, pyramid rising like a dream, like a mirage out of wild imaginings. Kids and goats, old men who needed dental work and women with wary eyes. The collateral damage was too high.

Jack turned back to the glass, closing his eyes. “The Abydonians all died anyway.”

“Seven years later,” Woolsey said. “And that was worth something.” His dry voice ran on. “That’s all we ever have, isn’t it? That it’s not today. That it’s not on our watch.”

Jack said nothing. Out in the control room one of the guards was flirting with the Airman on duty. He’d seen the bodies come back drained of life, withered to mummified husks. What do you tell their parents? What do you say happened? What do you do when their mom wants to open the casket? He could end that forever.

“We don’t know what it would do,” Woolsey said. “Besides kill the Wraith and every human with Wraith DNA. We don’t know how large the collateral damage would be. Presumably you and some few others would be protected by the ATA gene. Obviously the Ancients would not have wanted this to work on themselves. But ordinary humans?”

“You’re reaching for straws,” Jack said.

Woolsey made some small noise behind him. “I am,” he said. “But it’s my job to think about the worst case scenario.”

“And mine to think about casualties.” The words came out sharper than he meant.

“We have the retrovirus,” Woolsey said. “And we can inoculate all our personnel within a couple of weeks. We’ll never have to send our people home that way again. The question is about the rest of the galaxy.”

“We can’t hold,” Jack said. “We’ve got to use it or not. If we sit around holding it, we’re just begging for something to go wrong. Nothing like this stays a secret. Not from our people, not from theirs.”

“The first Wraith wanted to destroy it but couldn’t figure out how,” Woolsey said.

“They didn’t have McKay and Carter.” Jack turned around. “Ok. Let’s get rid of this damned thing. If McKay and Carter can’t figure out how to wreck it, I don’t know who can. Drop it in a sun or down the event horizon of a black hole or something. They’ll figure it out. They could probably destroy the universe if they tried hard enough. I’ll give you Carter and you put in McKay. Let’s see what awesomely dangerous plan they can come up with. And then…” Jack grinned ruefully. “We won’t be anymore screwed than we already are.”

Guide waited beside the Ring of the Ancestors, his breath a cloud in the damp air. The human soldiers left longer trails of mist: a faster metabolism, he wondered, or simply adrenaline raising body temperature? His own men waited with him, the drones nearly motionless, Bonewhite at his left hand ready for trouble. Guide didn’t know if the humans would recognize or remember him, the man Sheppard had called Kenny,’ but he wanted his second at his back. His fears for Alabaster had led him astray before now; he needed a man with enough authority to overrule him if things went wrong. It was an odd, unpleasant feeling, knowing he had made himself vulnerable, but he had felt naked — flayed, skinless — since the moment he’d seen Alabaster’s face. He could not fully trust himself, and that had to be taken into account.

Bonewhite caught a flash of that thought, and took a step forward in spite of the watching Marines, his off hand extended to touch Guide’s upper arm.

*It may still be a trick. Send one of us — send me — instead.*

And that would be the politic course, but Guide couldn’t bear it, couldn’t stand to wait, braced for the inevitable disappointment. He shook his head, the weight of his hair sliding against the leather of his coat. *No. Thank you, but this is mine.*

Bonewhite bowed, more deeply than was his habit. *We will attend your return.*

*Thank you,* Guide said, and broke the touch, looked to where Sheppard stood with Carter’s kinswoman. He was pleased that she would be left here, guard and hostage — it was a fitting choice, and he knew Bonewhite also knew better than to trust her too completely.

“Very well, Sheppard,” he said aloud. “I am ready.”

“About time,” Sheppard said. “Oh, just so you know, we’re not going straight to Atlantis.”

Bonewhite bared teeth at that, but Guide laughed. “I never expected it.”

“Dial the gate,” Sheppard ordered, and a moment later the Ring exploded with blue fire.

After the first passage, the humans blindfolded him. Guide submitted without complaint, amused that the young officer who performed the task had to stand on tiptoe to reach, and smelled of fear as he did it. He heard the Ring open, and then Sheppard said, “Ready?”

“I am ready.”

“Three steps up,” Sheppard said quietly. Guide could almost see him, see the faint, self-deprecating smile, his face turned half away so that no one else would guess that he spared a fellow Consort’s dignity.

The stairs were there, and then the shock of the Ring. His boots rang on the stones of the City of the Ancients, and he reached for the blindfold before he thought better of it.