SG1-15 The Power Behind the Throne by Steven Savile Page B

transplanted to this world ran deeper than anyone could explain, and went further back than any would have believed. It wasn’t merely one man’s fear of difference. And then something changed in Corvus Keen’s expression, as though the servos powering the muscles had suddenly failed. The skin slipped. The brightness in the eyes failed. The sharpness of his cheeks softened and his jowls sagged. Each change was subtle, but seen all at once the effect was stunning.
    It took a full minute for Keen to recover, but when he did he looked up at the sky, not at Iblis. “So where is this gateway to the stars?” It was the obvious question.
    “In the arctic northlands.”
    “Why there? Why so far away from civilization? Why not here? Somewhere central where we could come and go at will? Why hide such a great treasure?”
    “Because it was never meant for the humans we left behind,” Iblis said. It was an answer that made sense. It didn’t matter whether it was true or not.
    “Do you know where it is?”
    “It has been a long time since I traveled through the Chappa’ai, but before my people left this place they took measures to hide it. It is almost certainly not where it was the last time I traveled between worlds. So in answer to your question, I know where it is, but not
where
it is.”
    “Then we must find it!”
    “Yes. I think we must.”
    “And,” Keen said, the cunning sliding so gracefully back into his voice, “if the Kelani are not like us, we owe it to ourselves to understand their nature do we not? Their physiognomy, the stresses and strains their body might withstand in comparison to Corvani flesh. And not merely how they are different, but how they are the same.”
    “That would be wise,” Iblis agreed. Yes, Corvus Keen was malleable. Pliant even. “We have the old factories out at Remoulade and Rabelais. I am thinking these might serve as facilities.”
    “Ah, so I see you have thought about this.”
    “No more than I consider any of your other interests, Great Keen,” Iblis said smoothly.
    “Then tell me what you have in mind.”
    “It is simple, really,” Iblis began, outlining cruelties that alone even Corvus Keen could never have imagined.

Chapter Nine
     
Into The Fire
     
    Samantha Carter was the last one through the gate.
    She watched Teal’c’s back as the event horizon swallowed him whole. Its skin rippled, and then he was gone. With one last backwards glance at the window of the control room, she stepped into the blue.
    The sensation of stepping out into nothing, of becoming nothing, was every bit as unnerving as it had been the first time she had traveled through the Stargate. It wasn’t instantaneous; there was a lag as the wormhole carried her across vast expanses of empty space. The pull of forces on her mind was more distressing than the corresponding pull on her flesh. And then, even as her breathing came in harsh ragged gasps and her mind’s eye swirled with the punishing kiss of the vortex, she finished that last step on earth and made her first in hell.
    The heat hit her hard, even through the protective layers of the evac suit. In a matter of seconds, she felt the linen of the vest beneath the suit soak through with perspiration. The first trickle ran in a lazy curve along the line of her spine. Sam managed three uneasy steps before the sting of the fire in the sky burned through the helmet’s visor. There was no way the suits could shield them from the intense heat for any length of time.
    She closed her eyes, fumbling with the sensors on the helmet’s cuff to activate the visor’s tint. The filter glazed across the screen. It did nothing to reduce the painful brightness. Horizon to horizon the sky was ablaze, the firmament rippling with flares as pockets of oxygen ignited. It was all Sam could do not to stare. O’Neill’s voice crackled in her ear. “So I guess there is no point in telling everyone not to look at the sun.”
    For all the facetiousness, he was