STARGATE SG-1 29 Hall of the Two Truths by Susannah Parker Sinard Page B
Authors: Susannah Parker Sinard
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him from leaving. Perhaps there was a force shield.
He approached the opening cautiously. He could discern no ripple in the air, hear no thrumming of any energy. A temperate breeze brushed by him, unimpeded, and he caught the faint scent of fresh air and greenery.
Through the opening Teal’c saw only forest and brush and a single path that led from the doorway into a thicket. There was nothing to prevent him from leaving and no one else was in sight.
Neither was there any sign of O’Neill and the others.
The vaguely unsettling memory of dying returned. Perhaps the rest of SG-1 had met a similar fate. Yet he did not appear to be dead. All aspects of his physiology seemed as it had been before, including the presence of his symbiote, content within its pouch. This was not death as he understood it.
At least, he did not think so.
Teal’c’s eyes rested on a long, thin object leaning against the wall in the shadows. He recognized it at once. It was his staff weapon. Teal’c eyed it suspiciously. Why would his captors return his weapon to him? It was most strange, unless —
Careful of a booby-trap, Teal’c hefted the staff. In weight and balance it felt as it should, and when he activated it he heard the thrum of its power at the precise frequency he knew was his. Examining it, he could discern no tampering. All was as it should be.
Nevertheless, it was peculiar to find it here.
On the ground, beside the weapon, was also a knapsack containing food and a skin filled with water. The food was nothing Teal’c recognized, but evidently was meant to be nutritious and an adequate substitution for more traditional meals. After sniffing the water, he drank a small amount. It had a pleasant, fresh taste.
The stone bier. His clothing. The tokens of food and water. The staff weapon — his most treasured possession. He understood, now, why there was no guard. He knew what this place was.
It was a burial chamber, similar to those used on Chulak by the ancestral Jaffa before the Rite of Burning had taken the place of entombment. But if this was Chulak, how had he come to be here? Had the others brought him here, presuming him dead?
Perhaps he was indeed dead, after all.
That would explain much. Would not his spirit long to return home, if given a choice? Was this his calak’s journey through darkness to everlasting life?
There were no answers to be found in this tomb. If he wished to discover the truth, he had no choice but to follow the path into the forest. Either he would learn what had become of O’Neill and the others or he would endure the trials of the dead on his path to eternity.
Accepting the gifts of food and water, Teal’c grasped his staff weapon firmly in his hand and stepped through the doorway.
Whichever fate awaited him, he was prepared.
Daniel stood in the doorway, blinking into the blinding sunlight. He was relieved to leave the chamber and its claustrophobic air behind him. Even the sand-colored walls had been incapable of banishing the shadows which had reached out for him from its unfathomable corners. He had been reminded immediately of Abydos and the pyramid which housed the Stargate, except this was on a smaller scale — and without a Stargate.
Although the view might have fooled him. How many times had he stood atop the steps of the Abydonian pyramid and gazed across the endless stretch of sand and dunes, feeling the same dry wind and relentless sun? If he hadn’t known better, he might have believed he stood there now.
Except, he did know better.
It just didn’t feel like Abydos. He’d lived there long enough to recognize the subtle differences of air and gravity which separated it not only from Earth but from every other planet he’d visited. This was not Abydos. Although it was close. Very close.
If only he could sort out exactly what had happened. He was clearly alone. There was no sign of Jack or Sam or Teal’c anywhere. The small pyramid behind him could not have housed
He approached the opening cautiously. He could discern no ripple in the air, hear no thrumming of any energy. A temperate breeze brushed by him, unimpeded, and he caught the faint scent of fresh air and greenery.
Through the opening Teal’c saw only forest and brush and a single path that led from the doorway into a thicket. There was nothing to prevent him from leaving and no one else was in sight.
Neither was there any sign of O’Neill and the others.
The vaguely unsettling memory of dying returned. Perhaps the rest of SG-1 had met a similar fate. Yet he did not appear to be dead. All aspects of his physiology seemed as it had been before, including the presence of his symbiote, content within its pouch. This was not death as he understood it.
At least, he did not think so.
Teal’c’s eyes rested on a long, thin object leaning against the wall in the shadows. He recognized it at once. It was his staff weapon. Teal’c eyed it suspiciously. Why would his captors return his weapon to him? It was most strange, unless —
Careful of a booby-trap, Teal’c hefted the staff. In weight and balance it felt as it should, and when he activated it he heard the thrum of its power at the precise frequency he knew was his. Examining it, he could discern no tampering. All was as it should be.
Nevertheless, it was peculiar to find it here.
On the ground, beside the weapon, was also a knapsack containing food and a skin filled with water. The food was nothing Teal’c recognized, but evidently was meant to be nutritious and an adequate substitution for more traditional meals. After sniffing the water, he drank a small amount. It had a pleasant, fresh taste.
The stone bier. His clothing. The tokens of food and water. The staff weapon — his most treasured possession. He understood, now, why there was no guard. He knew what this place was.
It was a burial chamber, similar to those used on Chulak by the ancestral Jaffa before the Rite of Burning had taken the place of entombment. But if this was Chulak, how had he come to be here? Had the others brought him here, presuming him dead?
Perhaps he was indeed dead, after all.
That would explain much. Would not his spirit long to return home, if given a choice? Was this his calak’s journey through darkness to everlasting life?
There were no answers to be found in this tomb. If he wished to discover the truth, he had no choice but to follow the path into the forest. Either he would learn what had become of O’Neill and the others or he would endure the trials of the dead on his path to eternity.
Accepting the gifts of food and water, Teal’c grasped his staff weapon firmly in his hand and stepped through the doorway.
Whichever fate awaited him, he was prepared.
Daniel stood in the doorway, blinking into the blinding sunlight. He was relieved to leave the chamber and its claustrophobic air behind him. Even the sand-colored walls had been incapable of banishing the shadows which had reached out for him from its unfathomable corners. He had been reminded immediately of Abydos and the pyramid which housed the Stargate, except this was on a smaller scale — and without a Stargate.
Although the view might have fooled him. How many times had he stood atop the steps of the Abydonian pyramid and gazed across the endless stretch of sand and dunes, feeling the same dry wind and relentless sun? If he hadn’t known better, he might have believed he stood there now.
Except, he did know better.
It just didn’t feel like Abydos. He’d lived there long enough to recognize the subtle differences of air and gravity which separated it not only from Earth but from every other planet he’d visited. This was not Abydos. Although it was close. Very close.
If only he could sort out exactly what had happened. He was clearly alone. There was no sign of Jack or Sam or Teal’c anywhere. The small pyramid behind him could not have housed
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