Chapter 5
USAGE NOTE:
Words and sentences surrounded by single quotes indicate internal dialogue between Garin and Janet. Phrases in double quotes indicate actual dialogue.
Janet was beginning to think this entire planet was covered by forest, vast, uninhabited forests that stretched from pole to pole. No oceans, no deserts, no plains, no mountains. Just one boring tree after another, until she was of the opinion that if she never saw another tree for the rest of her life she'd die a happy woman.
They'd been walking for several days. At first she'd questioned Garin, then examined the landscape around them. But when Garin fell silent, lost in his own thoughts, she'd been unable to stop herself from worrying about Sam, wondering if her lover was even still alive. The wound had been terrible, and with nothing else to do, Janet relived those awful moments on the planet over and over. There had to have been more she could have done in the field treatment, she berated herself, certain she'd missed doing something vital. It ate away at her, filled her with a nearly suffocating sense of dread and loss. And Garin's relentless trek and withdrawal from her gave her nothing with which to distract herself.
In desperation, she'd finally forced herself to return her attention to the scenery, or lack thereof, that they passed. She’d yet to see any wildlife, other than that that had existed on this planet eons ago and was now nothing but half-buried, fossilized bone. That, however, could be because Garin crashed heedlessly through thicket and around trees, and splashed loudly across the numerous small streams they encountered, the noise probably frightening any creatures within earshot. Janet imagined that he was following some invisible laser beam guide and that nothing could push him off course. The strange thing was she'd gradually become aware that she also knew the route to their final destination, and that that there was a rather large swamp in the way. It occurred to her that Garin had been thinking about the swamp a lot since the sun had risen several hours ago, though she hadn't been consciously attending to his thoughts.
She smelled the bog, a dank, muddy odor that permeated the air around them, long before she actually saw it. And then they stepped out of a dense growth of low shrub-like trees into a clearing. Above them, a large patch of blue sky was visible, hazy sunlight heating the humid air around them. She scarcely noticed that, however, since her attention turned immediately to the slimy green water at her feet. She had a very bad feeling about this. At the same time, she was grateful for something new to look at that would distract her from her own dark thoughts.
Garin confirmed her fears by shrugging the heavy equipment pack off and carefully laying it on the grass beside them. Then, he started to unbuckle her utility belt.
‘Hold it, hold it, hold it,’ Janet protested immediately, realizing what he had in mind. If she’d had control of her arms, she would have waved them, just to emphasize her point.
To his credit, Garin stopped what he was doing and waited patiently for her to explain.
‘I am not walking in that,’ she told him firmly. ‘We’re going around it.’
‘That will take hours,’ he informed her impatiently. ‘Trust me, it's safe.’
‘A few hours isn’t going to make any difference,’ she argued. ‘And, no offense, but I don’t trust you when you say it’s safe.’ That was absolutely the truth. She couldn't shake the suspicion that Garin was hiding some nasty truth about the swamp from her.
He spent several moments considering it, then resumed what he was doing, ignoring her loud complaints. Even though it was waterproof, Garin hoisted the pack up and balanced it carefully on one shoulder, looping one strap around her arm to secure it. Then, they stepped into the murky water.
It was just as horrible as Janet knew it would be, the brown scum along the surface of the lukewarm water clinging to the fabric of her fatigues in clumps as they waded into the swamp. Her boots sank several inches into soft silt, making walking difficult as her heels created a small vacuum each time Garin lifted her foot. And the smell was indescribably foul.
They were several meters from the shore, the brown water up over her waist when her worst suspicions were confirmed. ‘Something just brushed past my leg!’ she exclaimed, panicked, wishing she had control over her body so she could recoil from it and head back to the shore they'd just left.
‘It was your imagination,’ he said, but she felt him tense.
She’d definitely felt something flick past her right knee, and a few seconds later it nudged her calf again. This time she felt it slither slowly against her leg before retreating again. ‘That was not my imagination,’ she informed him curtly.
Garin remained silent, but he was thinking about something called a shrilk, and Janet noticed he’d stopped walking.
‘A shrilk? What’s a shrilk?’ When Garin didn’t answer her, she added, ‘Let me guess, my imagination, right?’ When he still didn’t answer her she pressed on anyway. ‘Is it poisonous?’ Teal’c’s symbiote protected him against a fair number of toxins, so she supposed Garin would do the same for her.
‘Be quiet and let me concentrate.’
‘I knew this was a bad idea,' she moaned instead of doing what he requested. 'You are going to owe me so big if something nasty—' Before she could finish berating Garin something clamped tightly around her left leg and yanked, dumping her face forward into the water. As they fell the backpack slid off her shoulder, but Garin wrapped the strap twice around her wrist as they were dragged beneath the surface.
Helpless, she watched as Garin twisted her body around until she saw the sun gleaming through the mottled plane passing above them. They were just inches beneath the surface, whatever had her body dragging her along effortlessly. She was too afraid to talk to Garin lest she distract him from trying to rescue them.
Garin leaned forward, one hand reaching forward to grab the muddy brown tentacle wrapped around her calf. The backpack attached to her other arm made movement difficult, and Garin briefly considered releasing it, but took only a moment to decide against it. What Janet didn't understand was why he was trying to release her leg with bare hands when they had a survival knife on her utility belt in the backpack. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that the shrilk's hide was too tough for the knife to be effectively, but she was too frightened or distracted to digest the information or where it came from effectively.
The tentacle was hard, covered by some kind of flexible armor, and sandpaper rough against her skin. Hooking one hand around a sharp ridge that bit deeply into the flesh of her palm, Garin tugged sharply, gouging the soft tissue beneath the ridge with his fingers. At the same time, he began to kick and wrench her leg from side to side.
Without warning, the tentacle loosened, snapping away like a whip, and Janet wanted to shout for joy. But before Garin could move, a monster lunged at them from the murky depths. Janet had the impression of a gaping oval mouth opened wide in a silent scream as the memory of a lamprey she’d once dissected in high school biology flashed through her mind. It had been a smaller version of what was lunging toward her right now, a rope-like creature with a circular mouth surrounded all around by nasty teeth designed to clamp on to the side of larger fish, helping themselves to chunks of flesh.
And it was aiming right for her face, she realized, thinking that she might faint now in terror at the thought of this thing literally biting her head off. Janet had never been so scared in all her life, not even when Beulah had been chasing her down that dark tunnel. What was it with her and oversized versions of creepy, crawly, slithery things?
It was a meter away, and closing fast. Unable to tear her eyes away from those rings of sharp little teeth bearing down on her, she felt rather than saw one leg lift and kick the beast sharply against the underbelly once, twice, three times with as much force as Garin could muster from her body.
It kept coming, but it was a moment or two before Janet realized it was moving more slowly now, without purpose as it drifted along on its own attack momentum to float over her right shoulder. Her arms lifted to catch it. Then they were rising out of the water, the shrilk draped over one shoulder. Garin wasn't even breathing hard, she noted dimly.
For a minute, Janet couldn't believe they had escaped, as Garin awkwardly began to swim. The water was much deeper here, forcing him to use her free arm and her legs to propel them forward. The other curled protectively around the now inert creature as well as the equipment pack. 'Is it dead?' she finally asked, still in shock, some part of her processing the fact that mentally and emotionally she was beginning to calm down but that her body showed none of the corresponding responses to extreme fear. She filed that fact away for later analysis.
'We were never in any danger,' Garin assured instead of answering her question.
'What?' she asked, not understanding what he meant at first. Then it dawned on her. 'You knew that was going to happen!'
'I did," he admitted.
'You bastard!' Whatever gratitude she might have felt toward him for getting her out of that dangerous situation was immediately replaced with seething anger. She was so furious she knew that at that moment, if she'd had the power to hurt him, she would. How dare he do something like this without telling her. She'd sensed it, but hadn't pursued it when she should have. 'Why?' she demanded as they continued to make their way across the swamp.
'There's a settlement on the other side of the swamp,' he said. 'We can trade the shrilk for clothes and a ride into the port city.'
'No. Why didn't you tell me what you had planned?'
'I can't do what I need to do and fight you at the same time,' he said defensively.
'You told me a few days ago that this was a partnership,' she countered hotly. 'You lied!' She was choking, suffocating with rage, made all the worse because there was no outlet for it, her ability to defuse some of the anger with physical action stolen away by Garin's complete control of her body. But when Garin winced at her verbal assault, she decided to press her advantage, too angry and scared to be concerned with the consequences. 'Why bother even maintaining the pretense that I have a say in anything you do?'
'You would never have agreed to it.'
'You're damn right I wouldn't have!' she spat. 'But don't kid yourself,' she added. 'We both know why you did it.' Words were tumbling out of her mouth now as she became almost incoherent with fury.
'And why's that?' She could sense his outrage, sense that he already knew what she was going to say, daring her to actually say it.
'You're a Goa'uld," she told him, making it clear that she was referring to much more than merely his species. Janet was filled with the unreasoning need to wound him and words were the only weapon she had at her disposal, knowing full well that he would consider this the worst kind of insult.
She'd gone too far. She knew it even before she said it, knew it for certain in the instant they stopped and her body went rigid, muscles tense and quivering. Garin was fighting for control and she waited, some reckless part of her challenging him to lose it and prove just how much of a Goa'uld he was. That he would do that at her expense hardly mattered to her at the moment.
They stood there at a standoff, the air around them filled with the gentle lapping of the water and the drone of hidden insects. She thought to taunt him further, push him into something drastic. A part of her, the part that didn't care, recognized that this was suicide. Some form of it, anyway.
'You don't get off that easy. Neither one of us does,' he told her grimly, releasing a pent-up breath and consciously relaxing the muscles of her arms. 'Not yet, anyway.' Before she could say anything more he resumed crossing the swamp. 'Parker, my host before you, trusted me to act first and explain things to him later.'
'I'm not Parker,' she reminded him harshly, not ready to let her anger go just yet. 'Trusting you got him killed, didn't it?'
Garin was silent for a moment. 'We were in agreement that we should help the Rhinnali. We didn't discuss the details of how best to achieve that.'
'As you said, he trusted you.'
'He didn't blame me,' Garin said, voice laced with regret, making it clear that he blamed himself. 'I miscalculated. It took much longer to sabotage the transport than I thought it would. They were firing at us before I knew what had happened. There was barely enough time to hide the ribbon device.'
Janet didn't know what to say. She was still furious with Garin for what he'd just done, but the sense of regret and loss radiating from him was making it hard for her to hold onto it. In the back of her mind, she knew that what had happened to Parker probably wasn't really Garin's fault, no matter how much he might blame himself. She clamped down hard on those feelings before they could fully form, not quite ready to bury the hatchet.
'You don't trust me the way Parker did,' Garin observed, wistfully. 'Any more than I trust you, it seems.'
She thought about how Garin had promised her he'd get Sam to safety, remembering how he'd kept that promise. He had given her reason to trust him, but this had seriously undermined that trust. And if she allowed herself to think about it more deeply, she had to admit that, whatever the circumstances of his death, Garin had been close to his previous host, and he had been given no time at all to mourn that loss.
If he sensed her thoughts, he gave no indication of it. 'I can't change what just happened, and I won't insult you by pretending that I'd do things differently if given another chance,' he said. Then he hesitated.
'But?' she asked, sensing that he seemed on the verge of saying something more.
'Among the Tok'ra, there are exercises newly blended hosts and symbiotes do to help ease the difficulties of transition and to help each adjust to the needs of the other. We'll spend one night in the settlement. We could start tonight if you like.'
She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to hear, but she had a pretty good idea that this wasn't it. Some part of her didn't want to adjust to Garin, didn't want to acknowledge his needs.
'I don't blame you for feeling that way,' Garin admitted regretfully. 'I've ignored your needs since you became my host.'
'I need Sam,' she blurted suddenly, surprised because she hadn't planned on saying that. Hadn't even really been thinking it, though her fears for Sam were never very far from her mind, even when she wasn't consciously focusing on them.
'I know,' Garin said gently, though she sensed unease and regret from him as well as sympathy. 'We can talk about that tonight,' he promised.
That made her feel somewhat better, though a part of her wondered if he was just telling her what she wanted to hear so she'd cooperate. But that didn't make sense, she chided herself. There was no need for him to talk to her at all if he didn't want to. And there was certainly no need for him to trick her with words and false promises to get her to comply. Janet remembered the muted place deep inside her own mind that he'd shoved her into shortly after they'd joined; a few minutes ago she wouldn't have cared if he'd sent her back there permanently. Now that the danger was slightly more remote and she'd had some time to calm down she couldn't imagine anything worse.
They were both silent, each quietly appraising the other as the opposite shore, their goal, loomed steadily closer. Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore.
'So what is this thing?' she asked. 'A distant cousin?'
It was late afternoon, and her clothes were mostly dry when Garin saw the first signs of civilization. They'd been making their way around trees heading more or less in the direction of the setting sun when they'd stumbled across a narrow, but well-worn path. Garin shifted the pack across her shoulders to a slightly more comfortable position, and tightened his grip on the shrilk as they stepped onto the trail and began following it.
'I hope you weren't planning on sneaking upon anyone,' she quipped wryly, hoping a hot bath would be waiting for her wherever they were going.
Garin didn't respond to her comment, but she sensed his amusement. And her agreement about the bath. 'They'll see us before we see them,' he said instead, eyes scanning the area around them for any signs of life. 'We're still a ways away from the settlement, but we'll encounter one of the local families along this path.'
'Doing something illegal, I'll bet,' she said sarcastically.
'Making alcohol,' Garin explained. 'Strictly prohibited by the government. Not that there's much government out here.'
'Ah, moonshine,' she said. 'They have stills out here?'
'We should be safe enough, but we need to be careful. The families can be quite territorial.'
'Great,' Janet said sarcastically. 'You've brought us to the hillbilly planet.' Just what they needed, their own private version of the Hatfield's and McCoy's to contend with.
'We're being followed,' he said, ignoring her comment. She wanted to look, but Garin kept her eyes fixed straight ahead on the path as they continued walking. She felt him reach down and unsnap the strap holding her sidearm in place, though he didn't remove the weapon.
Garin stopped walking, and stood on the path, muscles tense. Janet strained her ears, and heard furtive movements behind them. 'Yes,' Garin confirmed. 'Two behind, three ahead. I'll handle this.'
Like it really mattered, she thought darkly. It crossed Janet's mind that there were probably five men against one woman, and that things could get very ugly for her.
Before they had time to discuss it a man stepped away from the shelter of a large tree, blocking the path with his body. Garin pushed the shrilk off her shoulder and onto the path, then took several slow steps back, his eyes never leaving the old man. 'That's Bram, the head of the controlling family in this region,' he told her. Obviously Garin knew the man, but the stranger would have no way of recognizing the symbiote in his new host.
Janet took a moment to study the stranger. The man was tall and thin, with a deeply lined face and sharp green eyes. He was clean shaven, his long gray hair swept neatly tied back from his face. His clothes appeared homemade, leather pants, boots, and a woven tunic partially hidden beneath a heavy hooded cloak. As he stepped forward Janet noted that what she'd originally taken for a staff was, instead, a long, lethal-looking spear. He was leaning rather heavily against it, and Janet noticed that he was favoring his left leg.
He approached the shrilk, using the blunt end of his weapon to nudge it once or twice, then looked up and nodded once, slowly. She heard the sounds of stealthy approach behind them, but Garin didn't turn to investigate. She was forced to wait, expecting at any second to feel the end of one of those spears slice into her back.
But the attack never came. Instead, two more men, boys really, she thought, suddenly appeared from the trees ahead of them, moving quickly to stand beside the old man. Both grinned broadly at her. The sounds behind her drew nearer, and two more people appeared. Janet was surprised to see that one was an attractive woman, tall with long black hair. All were dressed in clothes similar to those worn by the old man, and all but the woman, who clutched a long bow in one hand, carried spears.
Garin's attention had turned to the woman the moment she appeared, and Janet felt an uncomfortable rush as Garin's memories of her rose unbidden. Parker had been inordinately fond of her, and Janet now found herself with such intimate knowledge of this unknown woman that she was left feeling slightly disoriented and embarrassed. "Salla," she heard herself murmur, earning a sharp look from the woman.
"Well, girl?" Bram asked, his voice rusty and deep, drawing Garin's attention.
Garin indicated the carcass at their feet. "I want to trade. For clothing, a night's lodging, and a ride to the port city."
One of the boys whispered something to the other as they both stared at the shrilk lying in the dust, but they were quickly silenced by a side-long glare from the old man. "Clean clothes and a bed for the night," he said, nudging the shrilk with the toe of his boot. "It's too small to be worth much more than that."
Garin laughed, and Janet felt an odd sense of disorientation at the sound. Her voice, her laugh, but at the same time definitely not hers. The only time either she or Garin had spoken out loud since joining was to speak briefly to Sam and give orders to the escaping prisoners and she'd been pretty overwhelmed at the time. Since, then, their conversations had been internal, and while Janet had sort of gotten used to the sensation of her limbs moving under Garin's command, she hadn't had a chance to get used to the same thing with respect to her voice. It was very weird.
"Then it must be many years since you last saw one," Garin told him, voice tinged with sarcasm. Inwardly, Janet winced, certain that it was not a good idea to be sarcastic to people wielding dangerous looking spears. Especially when they were outnumbered five to one.
The old man wasn't easily swayed. "Take it or leave it, girl," he said. "No one at the settlement will trade with you if I don't allow it."
Her eyes dropped briefly to the ground, giving the appearance that she was pondering this new bit of information, but Janet knew Garin had absolutely no intention of giving up that easily. She half wished he'd put the ribbon device on before they'd countered the cast of Deliverance, here. She didn't necessarily wish these people any harm; so far, they hadn't done anything hostile to her. She just wanted to feel a little safer.
'It will be fine,' Garin assured her, as her eyes lifted to take in the wizened countenance of the old man in front of her. "Then I suppose it'll just go to waste. Such a pity. I understand the meat is considered quite a delicacy."
One of the boys snorted loudly, and took a step forward, only to be stopped short by the old man who threw an arm out in front of his chest. "We could just take it from you," he informed her.
Garin laughed again, even though Janet was becoming increasingly nervous over the exchange. "We wouldn't be having this conversation if you intended to just take it from me," Garin said firmly, though he wasn't quite so sure as he sounded. She fervently urged him not to add any further taunts that would provoke them into backing up their words with action. Being trapped inside with Garin in control was becoming increasingly frustrating, and Janet chafed under the imprisonment. She was certain she could be more diplomatic than the symbiote.
To her great relief, Garin didn't add that they would find taking it from her more difficult than they imagined, though he certainly thought it. She felt her body shift slightly, Garin's posture tightening as he prepared for a possible fight as Garin appraised the situation and analyzed their chances given that they were severely outnumbered.
They stood like that, she and Garin and the old man all sizing each other up, though the old man had no way of knowing that there were two people in her body. Just when Janet was certain she wouldn't be able to stand it any further, the dark-haired woman spoke. "We should include a bath in with the terms of the trade," she said simply, though her voice was tinged with amusement. Garin glanced at her, lips curling into a small smile.
The old man just scowled, but Janet noticed that he didn't argue, causing Janet to wonder just who was in charge here. 'Salla's voice carries a great deal of weight with her father,' he explained. 'When we were last here, Parker told her he would return or send word of himself to her, and that she would know because the stranger would know her name. He gave her some things of his to keep,' Garin added.
'How romantic,' Janet said sarcastically. 'And just how much of that was Parker and how much of it was you manipulating her.'
Before Garin could reply, the boys moved to pick the shrilk up, but Garin stopped them with a warning look, placing one boot on the carcass. He glanced over at Salla, waiting expectantly. "Don't you agree, Bram?" Salla asked, never taking her eyes off of Janet.
Bram sighed explosively, as though deeply frustrated that Salla had undermined him. "Aye, girl," Bram said grudgingly, after a few moments of mental debate. "Clothing, a night's lodging, and a ride to the port city. He paused, eyes flicking over her for a few seconds. "And definitely a bath. You have my word."
That satisfied Garin, and he stepped back, allowing the boys to pick the limp carcass up. 'How do you know he'll keep his word?' Janet asked, watching as they hefted the shrilk between them and began to carefully carry it along the path. Bram clearly had been interested in the shilk. But just as clearly, he hadn't been interested in trading, and Janet was suspicious that he'd given in too easily.
'Salla will make certain of it,' he replied, simply. And, indeed, Janet realized that Garin seemed confident enough that this would be the case. It wasn't like she could do anything about her suspicions at the moment. After a moment of debating it, she gave in. If nothing else, no matter how this actually did play out, she found that the mere promise of a bath gave her something to look forward to.
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