Chapter 7

Glad to be rid of the weight of the shrilk, Janet looked curiously at the group of people escorting her along the forest path. The two boys, twins she realized now that she had a better look at them, hefted their burden carefully as they trudged along behind another man. He'd come from behind after Bram had appeared and signalled to his people. He was older than the twins, but with the same thick black hair sported by the boys and Salla. Janet imagined that Bram's hair, when he'd been a younger man, must have been that same impossible black.

Garin had relinquished control of her body to her as the group walked through the forest. For the moment, everyone was silent, though she suspected there'd be time for talk later. In the meantime, she turned her attention to Salla, feeling warmth suffuse her neck and cheeks as images of her rose unbidden in her mind. She studied the other woman, appreciating her slim form and fair skin, and eyes as green as her father's.

'She's magnificent, isn't she,' Garin commented with genuine admiration.

'Does she know about you?'

'No. Parker wanted to tell her, but I wouldn't allow it.'

'Yeah, what's that all about?' He'd frustrated her attempts to tell Sam back on the transport, and Janet was not surprised to discover he'd done the same thing here.

Garin was quiet for a moment, then sighed. 'What they don't know can't hurt them. And no one can force them to tell something they don't know.'

'Someone might try anyway,' she told him. 'Have you thought of that?'

'All the more reason not to reveal my presence.'

Any thoughts she might have had that he was protecting people vanished at the grim practicality of his words. While some part of him probably was protecting those he came into contact with, Garin was largely motivated by self-interest.

'Parker wanted to take her with us,' Garin continued, cutting into her thoughts. 'I seriously considered it. This is no place for someone like her.'

'Well, obviously you didn’t,' Janet observed, her eyes again drawn unwillingly over to the other woman.

'She would have been a distraction,' he said sadly. 'You probably think that harsh, but it's the truth.'

'You'd have been taking her away from everything she knows, from her home and her family.' Her own situation gave her words even deeper meaning, and she was happy to sense that that meaning wasn't lost on Garin. 'Whatever your reasons were, I think you made the right choice. Parker was angry, wasn't he?'

'Very.'

'He was in love,' she observed quietly. 'So were you.'

'I suppose I was.'

At that moment, Salla's gaze touched on her, and Janet felt her heart skip a beat. Whatever Garin and Parker had felt for her still ran very strong, working to significantly magnify whatever small attraction Janet felt toward her. That thought made her uncomfortable, and she hastily looked away, deeply disturbed.

Something Sam had once told her after they'd found the Tok'ra suddenly made sense. They'd been discussing Martouf and Sam had tried to pull away, change the subject, but Janet had persisted. Sam had finally given in, and told her that she'd felt as though she had a strong bond with Martouf, despite the fact that he was a complete stranger. The mere sight of him had soothed something that had been raging deep inside her since Jolinar had died. Sam had been struggling with that attraction, that sense of history ever since.

And now Janet understood what it was like to feel drawn emotionally and physically to someone she had never met. It felt as though her body, her heart was betraying her and there was nothing she could do to stop it, no matter how much she struggled against it.

'You aren't betraying anyone,' Garin soothed. 'You can't help but feel what Parker once felt, and what a part of me still feels. I believe Samantha would understand that better than anyone.'

Janet felt a pang at the mention of Sam's name, and she instinctively shied away, forcing her mind on to a different, less uncomfortable subject.

'If it makes you feel any better, any advances either one of us made toward Salla would not be welcome. They have even less tolerance for homosexuality than your people do.' Then, voice laced with amusement, he added, 'You can, however, have your pick of any man or boy in the settlement as company for the night. You'll certainly get many offers.'

'Could we not talk about this?' she implored. She had absolutely no intention of having sex with anyone. If Garin wanted that sort of thing, he should've waited for Jack O'Neill before picking a host. That thought earned a loud laugh from Garin, and after a moment, she grudgingly joined in, lips curving into a broad grin.

-----

The narrow path through the trees gradually widened until they were walking along a wide, cleared track of land large enough for a car to drive on easily. More signs of life also became apparent; small shacks with smoke billowing out of them hiding amongst the trees, and livestock that looked like a cross between a goat and a camel were helping themselves to the thick grass on the side of the road. Janet didn't see any people other than the party she was travelling with, but they were obviously close by. She felt eyes watching them from the forest.

They walked around a sharp bend, and in the distance Janet saw a tall, rough wall made of mortar and large stones. 'The settlement,' Garin told her, though she'd guessed as much.

'This used to be a military outpost.'

'Correct.'

'How far is it from the port city?'

'That depends on one's mode of travel,' Garin said dryly.

'And ours will be?' She was half afraid of the answer.

'It's very similar to your railroad. The technology was discarded centuries ago, but there was a network of supply lines to these rural fortresses. The settlers travel to the larger cities occasionally to trade for goods. The shrilk is a good reason to go,' he added. 'The hide alone will bring a fortune on the black market, not to mention the meat.'

'Probably tastes like chicken,' she muttered to herself.

The walls were looming closer, and Janet also saw that the road lead into a massive archway protected by an enormous metal grate. It looked like something right out of the middle ages, she mused. All that was missing was the moat. Glancing up, she saw several figures walking along the top of the wall, obviously on some kind of patrol. Janet had no doubt that people with weapons were watching all sides of the fortress, though what they had to be so wary of, she had no idea.

'There was a fairly advanced civilization on this planet at one time,' Garin said. 'You'll see evidence of it here and there, like this place. Five generations ago an oligarchy came into power. This whole planet and the nearby moons are controlled by a few very powerful individuals. A good portion of the population live as these people do, outcasts left to fend for themselves in rural areas.'

'So basically everyone works for the oligarchy or against them. And they help themselves to whatever they want.' Suddenly the need for patrols made sense. But something about this place puzzled her. 'So why is the Stargate out in the middle of nowhere?' she asked. Surely, the oligarchy would be more than a little interested in that technology.

'They don't know about it, though it would certainly be worth quite a fortune to the people who run this place,' he said. 'There are stories and legends, rumors spread here and there about a cult that used a stone circle to travel to the stars. But nobody believes them, and whatever concrete knowledge this civilization once had about the Stargate has been long lost.'

'So this person we're supposed to get the data crystal from? He or she lives here? And if so, how did he or she get the crystal?'

'He or she hides here. This is a perfect place for fugitives. Most of the bounty hunters don't know about it, and the Goa'uld haven't been here in nearly a millennium. As to how he or she got the crystal, I don't know and I don't care.'

Before Janet could respond to that, the older boy broke away, running ahead, Janet presumed, to signal the guards to raise the grate. As he moved away from the small group, Janet glanced around and saw figures melting out of the shadows of the forest, all stepping forward to regard her with nervous curiosity and the shrilk with growing excitement.

'They don't get many visitors, do they?' she asked, though she already knew the answer.

'For the most part, the government is content to leave these people alone, recognizing that they are virtually harmless and useless. However, periodically, they send raiders to the settlements.'

'Just to remind them who's in charge,' Janet observed ascerbically. She didn't know much about the oligarchy in charge of this planet, but she sensed Garin's distaste clearly and it colored her own.

The inside of the fortress was about what Janet expected. There were several low buildings, surrounding a large, central well. A set of stocks stood at one end, near several enormous bails of hay. A few feet from that, Janet saw several large, sweaty men toiling away in what looked like a blacksmith's shop, which was located next to a crude stable. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like the type of frontier fort she'd read about in any number of pulp Westerns as a kid.

All eyes were fixed on them as they walked toward the well, which was obviously the social center of the settlement. Walking behind him, Janet observed that Bram noticeably relaxed as soon as they crossed the threshold into the settlement, his stride taking on a rather prideful swagger as he moved toward a large gathering of women.

A murmur rose from the women the minute they saw the two boys carrying the shrilk. In seconds, there was a rather large and enthusiastically chattering crowd of women gathered around it as Bram spoke to an older, heavy set women. Janet met her gaze across the compound as she turned her appraise her carefully before turning back to Bram and resuming their conversation.

'One of Bram's wives,' Garin said. 'Olla.'

'Wives?' Janet asked disdainfully.

'Don't be so judgemental,' Garin told her. 'Olla has five husbands and could have many more if she chose.'

'Oh, well that different,' Janet said sarcastically, walking toward Bram when he waved her over, wondering if there was some appropriate form of greeting. She noted that Salla followed her.

"Olla and Salla will see to your needs," Bram said brusquely before departing. "We leave for the port city at dawn."

Janet noted that he never once, since encountering Bram and his family, asked for her name. She wondered why, particularly after Salla had spoken up and agreed to trade. If they didn't get many visitors, Janet assumed he'd at least be curious.

'He's dying to know,' Garin confirmed. 'He just doesn't want you to know that.'

Instead of greeting her, Olla eyed Salla carefully, as if she suspected that their unexpected visitor was her doing. For her part, Salla looked steadily back at Olla, and neither woman spoke for several long moments. The air was thick with an undercurrent of tension, a contest of wills that neither women seemed willing to concede.

Janet took the time to study Olla more carefully, aware that they were the center of attention in the settlement, and that many were feigning some sort of activity in order to appear less obvious. The other woman was perhaps a an inch taller than herself, large boned and heavy set, though not exessively. Her long silver hair was pulled back into a severe pony tail, stretching and distoring the skin of her face which was weathered and heavily lined, suggesting a great deal of time spent outdoors. Everyone in the settlement appeared to wear the same type of clothing, and Olla was no exception, except that her long, tan tunic-like shirt was gathered at the waist by a bright blue sash. Obviously some sign of rank or authority, Janet thought. When they had approached, several other women quickly excused themselves, which supported the impression that Olla was someone of importance.

Garin had mentioned that Bram's was the head family, and that Olla was one of his wives. Assuming that the people who had accompanied them back were all Bram's children, Janet didn't think that Olla was their mother. None of them looked remotely like her.

When the staring contest continued for several more seconds, Janet lowered her head and cleared her throat loudly. Both Salla and Olla turned, startled, Olla to glare in her direction, and Salla to duck her head with a small smile.

'That was a mistake,' Garin cautioned.

'Too bad,' Janet countered, tired of standing here waiting for them to acknowledge her presence.

'Don't speak to them until they address you,' he warned.

She was tempted to say something just to annoy Garin, but she recognized the wisdom in holding her tongue. The spell seemed to have been broken, however, and Olla's eyes moved over her, no doubt taking in her muddy, travel-stained uniform and disheveled appearance.

"You caught the shrilk yourself, then?" she asked, without preamble, sniffing the air near Janet once or twice and raising her eyebrows.

Under any other circumstance it would've been rude, but Janet nearly laughed. "Yes," she said, taking a moment to compose herself. Olla probably wouldn't appreciate it if she burst out laughing right now.

"That's not an easy feat to accomplish alone," Olla said, scowling suspiciously at her. "What is your name?"

She sensed immediately that Garin didn't want her to give either of their names, even though he did not say anything. He really was paranoid, she thought irritably, as her mind scrambled for a name to give. The last movie she'd seen, she though frantically. A book, something… Her momentary hesitation was not lost on Olla, who looked at her with even more suspicion, if that were possible.

"Trinity," Janet finally blurted, feeling ridiculous. Cassie had loved The Matrix but she hadn't been able to get past Keanu Reeve's bad acting to thoroughly enjoy it. "My name is Trinity." She was stuck with the name now, for better or worse, and she returned Olla's glare coolly, trying to imitate the same look Salla had given the older woman a few moments before. What would her impromptu namesake do in her place, some part of her mind asked giddily.

"Trinity," Olla said, intoning the name flatly. Janet had to admit it sounded pretty unconvincing.

'Trinity?' Garin echoed.

'OK, you can pick the name next time,' she retorted, thinking this would've been so much easier if she could have given her own name. They were going to have to have a long talk about this particular quirk, she decided.

Whatever Olla was thinking, she kept it to herself for the time being. "Bram says you came from over the mountains. These woods are dangerous, especially for a woman alone."

Olla obviously thought she was some kind of a ploy, a Trojan horse of sorts to gain entry to the settlement. One who could not possibly be travelling alone.

"Not for someone who can take down a shrilk single-handed," Janet replied evenly. That much was true.

"And what business have you in the port city?"

"My own." Janet wondered just how long this third degree was going to continue. Garin was providing little in the way of guidance for this conversation, though she knew he'd intervene if things got out of hand. Glancing over at Salla, Janet saw that she was watching the exchange with interest, and no hint of disapproval or impatience. Visitors were so few and far between, Janet reasoned, that it was probably safer to be suspicious, at least at first.

Olla's mouth compressed into a thin, tight line at that. "So you have no escort? You travel alone?" Janet nodded, but kept silent. "This is acceptable, where you are from?"

"I don't need permission, if that's what you're asking," Janet said defensively.

Olla weighted this new information carefully. "You are alone, then," she stated matter-of-factly. "No husband, no children."

That got her, Olla's words slicing unexpectedly into her heart. She looked away quickly, her mind turning instantly to Sam and Cassie. She felt Garin slip imperceptibly in control, recovering almost immediately. Too late, Janet thought, seeing the spark of interest, and perhaps a flash of pity in Olla's eyes. "I travel alone," Garin said. "And I have had a very long journey. I appreciate your hospitality."

Janet wished she'd thought of that. It effectly ended the interrogation, and for once she was just as glad to let Garin take control. The unexpected reminder of all she'd lost, of Sam and Cassie, had left her shaken and she would not have been able to effectively continue the conversation. She still didn’t know if Sam had survived and Janet didn't even want to think about what it would do to Cassie if she lost both of them.

"Of course," Olla said reluctantly, obviously unhappy about being outmaneuvered for the moment. "Salla will show you to a room, and I will have Henna bring you some clean clothes while you bathe."

That was music to Janet's ears, and she willingly allowed herself to be distracted. Her uniform was stiff with dried sweat and slime and caked with mud. And she smelled even worse than the swamp, if such a thing was possible. A bath and a change of clothes sounded like heaven to her at the moment. With a final nod at Olla, Garin followed Salla into one of the low buildings opposite the stables, aware that Olla's gaze followed them as they retreated. Without doubt, she would be watched closely during her entire stay here.

Garin followed Salla through a doorway, the heavy steel door thrown wide open, into a dingy hallway. Two doors lead off on either side. Salla moved past both closed doors to the end of the hall where she bent and lifted a ring in the floor, which Janet quickly realized was a trap door. Bright white light shone out of the small access tunnel, a narrow ladder fitted to the side closest to her. Without hesitating, Salla descended, calling for her to follow.

'There's an extensive network of bunkers in the fortress,' Garin explained, and indeed, Janet could picture a virtual warren of tunnels and rooms, access tunnels and elevators, enough to house a small city. Garin had seen only a small portion of the bunker on his last trip here.

At the bottom of the ladder was another narrow corridor which Garrin followed Salla along as it twisted and turned. They had electriciy, Janet realized, glancing up at the florescent lights lining the ceiling. She wondered where the power came from; presumably, if this was a military bunker, it had its own generators or source of power. Where there was electricity, she reasoned, there might be plumbing.

Salla lead her into a small elevator and closed the door, expertly working a handle to set it in motion. They travelled in silence for several moments, then Salla abrputly halted the elevator.

"Olla doesn't trust you," Salla said quietly. Garin turned to look at her.

"I'm alone," Garin assured her. Once again Janet felt that same warm rush of affection she'd experienced in the forest when Salla had met her eyes. "I give you my word."

Salla searched her face for quite some time. "We followed you for several hours," she said at last. "If anyone was with you, we would have seen them. But that isn't why Olla doesn't trust you. She doesn't trust anyone, strangers least of all. When strangers come here, there is trouble." Salla's words were careful, measured, and the young woman averted her eyes away from Janet.

Before Janet had a chance to decide if she was referring to Parker or someone else, Salla closed her eyes and asked, "Parker sent you, didn't he?"

Garin abruptly withdrew his control, leaving her momentarily unbalanced. Bracing one hand against the wall of the elevator, Janet called Garin a few choice names, then glanced up at Salla. The young woman hadn't moved from her position near the controls, though Janet realized they'd stopped. Neither did she look up at Janet, but waited expectantly for an answer to her question.

Licking her lips, Janet nodded slowly. "Yes."

Salla breathed deeply, tilting her head back. "We'll talk tomorrow," she said, turning to face Janet. There was some emotion in the other woman's green eyes that Janet couldn't quite place, something that told her that Salla knew a lot more than she was telling. Garin sensed it too and it left him deeply disturbed, she realized.

There was no further discussion between them as Salla lead her to a room located a short distance from the elevator. Pushing a heavy steel door open, Salla ushered her into a narrow, sparsly furnished room. There was a table, a chair at one end, and two bunks bolted to the wall. Pushing past her, Salla pushed open a small door at the end of the room to reveal a bathroom. Or rather, what Janet took to be a bathroom. There was a bathtub that was easily recognizeable as such. But the trough on the floor puzzled her for a moment, until she realized it was probably the native equivalent of a toilet.

"Your clothing isn't salvagable," she said. "Leave it on the chair and Henna will see that it's disposed of. She'll also leave you towels and something clean to wear. I'll fetch you for the evening meal. Olla will want to question you further." With that, Salla stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind her.

"Great," Janet breathed as she began emptying her pockets. "Just great."

'She knows something,' Garin said as soon as the other woman left. Janet agreed, but most of her attention was focused on the bathtub. Slipping into the bathroom and twisting the faucets at one end of the tub. To her immense gratitude, hot water began to splash immediately into the tub. She hunted around for a few minutes looking for a plug, then located a small lever on the side that seemed to do the trick. Garin was babbling about something, worried, no doubt by the strange conversation with Salla, but Janet interrupted him.

'It's safe enough, isn't it?' she asked. 'To take a bath?' She wasn't crazy about the idea of being naked in an underground bunker among strangers but the lure of the hot water was like a siren song.

'It's fine,' Garin assured her. 'No one will bother you, and if they were inclined to Salla wouldn't let them. Now what do you think she meant?'

Janet tuned him out as she shrugged out of her fatigue jacket and peeled her filthy tshirt off her back. At the moment she could have cared less if the entire fortress had her on surveillance and everyone was getting a free peep show.

-----

She had to drain the dirty water from the tub three times, and left a trail of wet footsteps across the room when she went to retrieve the small bar of soap in her backpack. Janet had been in such a rush to clean off she'd forgotten to retrieve it.

But she was clean and at the moment that was all that mattered as she ran hot water over her hair for the fifth time. Leaning back and relaxing in the steamy water for a moment, Janet thought about how wonderful it was to feel clean again. It made her feel human.

Reaching over the side, she hooked her fingers around the chain of her dog tags, retrieving them from the tiled floor where she'd tossed them while getting undressed. Henna had stopped by awhile ago, leaving a pile of clothes and towels for her. Salla hadn't shown up yet to take her to dinner, so Janet saw no need to get out of the water at the moment.

The tags clinked together as she dangled them in the air in front of her, studying them carefully. They were the only marginally personal thing she had on her, she realized. The irony was that they technically belonged to the Air Force. But they were a connection to her identity, to who she was. Some members of the SGC carried photographs or small momentos of loved ones. She didn't go into the field often enough to warrant doing something like that, but she knew Sam carried a picture of Cassie with her. Sam had thought she might get away with carrying a picture of the three of them, but they'd both decided the risk of it being discovered and unduly questioned was too great.

No momentos or keepsakes, no little tokens for her. Just a set of metal dog tags to remind her of who she'd once been. Major Doctor Janet Fraiser, United States Air Force, Chief Medical Officer of the SGC, foster mother to a child she couldn't love more if she'd come from her own body, Samantha Carter's friend and lover…

Garin's host.

Garin's host, she repeated to herself, rolling the words over in her mind, wondering if he was listening in, or still off worrying about Salla. Garin's host, one half of a whole. Two for the price of one.

She slipped the tags over her head and rose from the water, reaching for a towel. Wrapping it around her, she wandered back into the main room, looking for the mirror she vaguely remembered seeing in there.

It was hanging in the corner, a small, cracked, utilitarian piece of glass, but it would do. She suddenly wanted to see herself, needed to know if she looked different, if someone could tell she was a host just by looking at her.

She stopped just short of the mirror, just short of looking at her own reflection. Instead she reached up, one hand sliding beneath the damp hair at the nape of her neck to expertly probe the flesh there. That's where he'd be, she told herself, as the tips of her fingers made contact with the slightest of swellings. Had she not known what to look for it would have fooled her, had fooled her in the past. She'd missed Jolinar completely, even though she'd examined Sam personally.

But there was Garin, the tangible evidence of his presence there beneath her skin, beneath her fingers, more solid and real than any echo of his voice in her mind could ever be. The reality of it made the breath catch in her throat.

Hand still curled around her neck, she stepped forward, almost unwillingly, to look at herself in the mirror. Wet hair tangled at her forehead, and the fearful trepidation in her eyes was more than a little disconcerting, but she studied her face carefully. Her skin glowed, but whether it was from the steam of the bath or the rejuvination effects of the symbiote, she couldn't tell.

Mesmerized, she lowered her hand, brushed her palm across her cheek, across her lips, tracing the contours of her face like a blind man exploring the face of a stranger. She wondered if her hands would reveal the changes she couldn't see with her eyes.

'This is what you're looking for,' Garin said softly. Janet gasped as her eyes lit up, flared briefly to life with an unholy glow, before returning to their normal brown.

"And this is what it sounds like," he added. Her lips, her tongue formed the words, but the voice issuing from her mouth was not her own. It was thick and distored, deeper than her own and unmistakeably alien. As if to emphasize his point, her eyes flared again.

With a small shriek, Janet lashed out with her fist, catching the mirror with the thick middle knuckle of her right hand. She left a spiderweb of cracks flecked with her blood. The small mirror seemed to hover there for a moment, then she watched it fall from the wall in slow motion, disintigrating into a thousand pieces at her feet as it collided with the floor

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