Bill McCay - Stargate Rebellion.pdf - Bill McCay - margozap

STARGATE REBELLION

BILL MCCAY

CHAPTER 1

THREE AWAKENINGS

Dawn was still hours away, but a subtle lightening of the shadows in the

suburban bedroom foretold that sunrise, inevitably, would come. Bit by

tiny bit, Sarah O'Neil could distinguish more and more details on the

dresser and bureaus. She lay propped on one elbow, silently studying her

bedmate in the indistinct gloom. Soon Colonel Jack O'Neil would be up,

shaved, starched, and off to the nearby Marine base. Sarah was glad

that his classified tasks now involved deskwork instead of killing

people in the field-for the time being, at least. She'd feared his most

recent mission was to have been his last. Jack had fallen apart when

their son, Jack Junior, died in a gun accident. Their all-American boy

had joined the casualty lists in a case of friendly fire-from jack's own

pistol. In the months that followed, Jack had either avoided this bed

or lain beside her, his entire body tight as a clenched fist. For hours

he'd sat alone in his den, playing with a 1911 Army Colt automatic, an

old-line officer's sidearm, .45 caliber-capable of spattering his brains

all over the wall if he finally decided to swallow the gun barrel. When

the orders came, sending Jack away on another mission, Sarah believed

his superiors were merely aiming him like a piece of ordnance-a

combination suicide bomb and detonator. But Jack had come back. And she

had been surprised by joy when, even more inexplicably, Jack returned a

healing man. Their son's death wasn't completely behind him, but

somewhere on this mission he never spoke about, he'd come to terms with

Jack junior's loss. Jack returned neither as the walking wreckage he'd

been right after the funeral, nor the near parody of the spit-andPolish

officer he'd transformed into upon getting his orders. He'd been-himself

again. And on his return from wherever, they'd made love for the first

time in too, too long. As soon as he'd undressed, Sarah saw he had not

had an easy mission. Technicolor bruises marred Jack's ribs and the pit

of his stomach-souvenirs of brutal hand-to-hand combat. She'd tried to

be gentle. And the usually gungho colonel had been almost shy, as if he

wasn't sure the pieces would fit together again. They certainly had, and

that had helped the healing. Silently, Sarah examined the familiar

features. From the moment she'd met the cocky young combat corporal,

she'd been struck by the contradiction implicit in his go-to-hell eyes

and his set, determined jaw. Now the eyes were closed, the jaw

softened. In the vulnerability of sleep, the elder Jack looked almost

like his lost son. Sarah slid across the bed, wrapping her arms around

her husband as if trying to shield him with her body. After months of

quiet, she knew that today one of those shadowy superiors Jack answered

to would be coming to the base. He's had so little time to be a human

being-so little practice, she thought as she clung to her husband. I

hope they won't send him somewhere that will turn him back into a robot

again. On the planet Abydos, Daniel Jackson looked up at the ceiling and

surreptitiously flexed his fingers in an attempt to bring circulation

back to his right arm. Not that he minded the reason for the lost blood

supply. Sha'uri's head lay across his biceps as she cuddled against

him, the fine features of her face burrowing into his chest. Daniel had

followed a strange road to get here. Fellow Egyptologists had dismissed

him as a crank for arguing that the sudden flowering of Nile

civilization must have its roots in an earlier culture. But he'd found

an artifact of that predecessor civilization on a hush-hush government

project. He'd christened it a StarGate from hieroglyphics connected with

the find. Then he'd been put to work deciphering cryptic signs on the

StarGate itself, which turned out to represent star constellations. His

key had allowed government scientists to unlock the StarGate. And,

accompanying a team of recon Marines, Daniel had been hurtled to this

strange planet to find Nagada, Sha'uri-and a vengeful semi-human

creature who ruled Abydos and other worlds as the sun god Ra. Daniel

helped rouse rebellion among the human slaves while the Marines and a

few young rebels battled Ra's guardsmen. Both Daniel and Sha'uri were

mortally wounded, only to be resurrected by Ra's extraterrestrial

technology-a strange quartz-crystal sarcophagus. Ra explained that his

technology had been the base of later Egyptian civilization, but his

earthly slaves had revolted, burying the StarGate. Now, millennia

later, he would punish the human homeworld through the reopened gate. He

would send an atomic bomb back to Colorado, amplifying its power with

his mysterious quartz-crystal. Revolt and the efforts of the Marines

forestalled that plan. In the end, the nuclear blast had destroyed Ra

himself. Daniel decided to stay on Abydos. The local population had not

only been used shamelessly, they'd been kept illiterate and ignorant of

their past. Daniel could teach them-while at the same time learning the

roots of Egyptian culture. Besides, he was living out an adventure of

the sort he'd only expected to see on movie screens. He'd even wed the

local chief's daughter. Daniel stared up at the cracked adobe-style

ceiling. There was much to be fixed here. He'd started by trying to

get the local population literate. In the past months, he had taught

hieroglyphics to a basic cadre-Sha'uri, several of the local Elders, and

a number of interested townsfolk. This first generation was now

teaching basic classes while Daniel gave advanced instruction. Today,

his postgrad workshop had met in the secret archives of Nagada.

Generations of secret scribes had filled the walls of a hidden room with

the true history of Ra's infamy, despite the sungod's proscription on

writing. One of Daniel's first actions was to copy these hieroglyphics.

He remembered Sha'uri's halting translation of one section. "When those

on Ombos rebelled, Hathor went forth as the Eye of Ra. She covered that

world in blood, till, wounded, she entered the vault of Ra to sleep ever

since." Daniel was reminded of an Egyptian myth. To foil a human

revolt, Ra sent cat-headed Hathor, goddess of lust and quick vengeance,

to slaughter the conspirators. But she developed a taste for blood,

planning to kill all of humanity. The gods, concerned at the loss of

worshipers, created a lake of beer stained with berry juice. The

bloodthirsty goddess drank it up, fell into a drunken sleep, and awoke

as her usual light-hearted and sexy self. Now we have the history behind

the myth, Daniel thought. Thanks to hieroglyphics. But a voice nagged

from the back of his head. Maybe you should be teaching these people

English instead. Nagada depended on agriculture and handicrafts-a

subsistence economy, but most of the work force had been miners. The

city was near a deposit of that quartz-like crystal used in so much of

Ra's technology. It had been a major export, even if the people had

gotten nothing back. it might become a paying export after the

scientists on Earth saw some of the items O'Neil brought back through

the StarGate. Daniel tried to caution Sha'uri's father Kasuf and other

city

Elders about terrestrial business ethics. But it was hard even to

explain what a corporation was. For Kasuf and the others, visitors

through the StarGate were friends, and perhaps heroes. Daniel could only

hope it would stay that way. Sha'uri shifted and sighed. She opened her

eyes, giving him a sleepy smile. "Dan-yer," she whispered, pronouncing

his name in her local tongue. Smiling back, Daniel decided to put his

worries on the back burner. The marble halls on the moonlet of Tuat were

not made for raised voices. Especially this hall, with its pyramidal

dome of crystal rising to a point far overhead. Not for the first time,

Thoth wondered why Ra had topped this particular structure with a dome

of viewing. Outside was merely airless rock, unblinking stars, and,

hanging in the sable sky, the grayish-blue bulk of the world this

moonlet circled. Even after ten millennia, the planet had yet to recover

from ecological catastrophe. According to the secret records, this is

where Ra had found his first servants, the hands that had built the

StarGates, the exoskeletal helmets, and the weapons that marked godhood

for Ra's human servants. The records hinted of a bargain being struck,

that Ra would take the inhabitants from their ruined planet to a new

ore. However, that world had turned out to be Ombos, the world of

blood. Thoth raised his eyes to consider the planet above. Whoever

those first servants had been, they'd built well. Even from this

distance he could make out the regular lines of their ruined

habitations. "Look at me, Ammit devour you!" Sebek's voice boomed and

echoed in the enclosed space. Sighing, Thoth redirected his regard to

the man prowling the pillared central aisle. He didn't know why Sebek

kept glancing around. He'd picked this spot for their clandestine

meeting. Thoth didn't mention that THREE other godlets-who-would-beRa

had chosen the same place. It was hard to believe that he and Sebek had

long ago been part of the same brood of tribute children sent to serve

Ra-pretty boys and girls. They'd grown up very differently. Thoth had

risen to head Ra's bureaucracy, becoming the accountant of the gods.

Physically, he resembled the headdress-creature that marked his godhood.

Thoth was the This-headed god-and the This was a stork-like bird.

Spindly of arms and legs, with an incipient potbelly, Thoth was not an

impressive sight in his white linen kilt. Sebek, on the other hand, was

the crocodile god, renowned for cruelty, one of Ra's planetary viceroys,

an overseer of overseers. He had the thick, muscular body of a warrior.

And if he didn't have the grace of lost Anubis, foremost of Ra's

fighters, he certainly had strength to spare. Right now he looked as if

he was just barely restraining himself from using that strength to break

Thoth's arms and legs. Thoth kept his eyes on the prowling warrior. He

was reasonably sure that Sebek would not descend to the use of such

forceful expedients-at least, not yet. But Thoth had learned to keep an

eye on adversaries, even those courting his support. For that was what

all these skulking colloquies were about-on whose side would the

machinery of administration fall? "Several of Khnum's people died in a

set-to with some Horus guards serving Apis," Sebek said. "The Ram has

been pushing the Bull hard of late. He turned cold, shrewd eyes to

Thoth. "Not that I'm telling you anything. Your scribes make excellent

spies. I saw it often enough on Wefen. Ra seemed to know my secrets

almost as soon as I knew them." Sebek swerved in his prowling course to

confront Thoth. "But," he said, his voice dropping, "such a system can

work only if there is strength at the head. I'm sure you know many

things. But whom can you tell now?" Thoth said nothing. In truth, the

scribes had provided much useful intelligence for Ra. But now Ra was

gone, vanished for months after what was supposed to be a short voyage

and visit at the backwater world of Abydos. From all over Ra's compact

empire, warrior gods came by StarGate to Tuat-the-world and flew up to

Tuat-the-moon-for Ra never allowed Star Gate access to his personal

sanctum. And on a moonlet where Thoth had once enjoyed a position as

second after Ra-as chief administrator-warriors and viceroys now jostled

one another, their servants testing the aggressiveness and resolution of

other factions. Predators all, they had been held in check because Ra

had culled the pack. But now it seemed more and more evident that Ra

was no more. The warriors' minds turned naturally to calculations of

succession. And for the more thoughtful minority such as Sebek and a

few others-those calculations went beyond quantifying the number of

available bodies and the tally of blast-lances those bodies could use.

"You could choose worse to back than me," Sebek went on. "We ate at the

same table as boys-served Him together." Throughout this talk, Thoth

realized, Sebek had never mentioned Ra by name. The warrior's voice

dropped to a whisper. "I remember how you dreaded it whenever you

displeased Him-how you feared the punishment He might mete out." Sebek

speared his old mate with cold eyes. "Think what punishment I'm capable

of. And if you won't serve me for old affection's sake-then fear me!"

He turned and left Thoth alone in the hall. Raising his eyes again,

Thoth studied the pitiless stars. Trust Sebek to issue the most direct

offer and to couch it as a threat. Certainly, there were worse

candidates for the place of power. Sebek could field a sufficient force

to seize the prize. But even with Thoth behind him, could Sebekcould any

of the would-be successors-retain power in the face of resistance from

the other contenders? Or would the battering of the warriors destroy

the prize? Shatter the irreplacable mechanical and human gears that

allowed the empire to function? Not to mention that backing the wrong

aspirant could get Thoth killed. If Anubis was amongst them, a fighter

of such proven ferocity that the pack could be curbed ... But Anubis had

gone with Ra. No comparable warrior walked the halls of Tuat. Unless

Thoth resolved on a far more dangerous gamble. He had to decide soon,

before hand-to-hand brawls became pitched battles with energy weapons. A

dubious prospect, with hard vacuum beyond the walls of Ra's pleasure

domes. Still worse, there would be no room to maneuver, no chance to

temporize with Sebek and the others who wanted Thoth's support. Thoth

activated his headgear, allowing the aspect of the This to cover his

face. His gangling frame moved smoothly, imbued with sudden purpose. He

headed for the lower levels of the pyramid, domain of machinery and the

occasional mechanic. But building plans existed, and these had to be

recorded, filed, and thus passed into the hands of the scribes. Thanks

to the plans, Thoth had found the airlock, and thanks to other records

he had learned of the necessities for workers to wear on their

infrequent maintenance jobs outside. The suit accommodated his kilt but

tightly gripped his chest and extremities in a sensation unfamiliar on

skin that usually went bare. Hookups ran to his helmet so he could

breathe. He cycled through the lock and set off across the bare rock.

Mere yards from the pyramid, the field of artificial gravity died away.

That was all to the good. Thoth set off on huge, exaggerated bounding

steps for a horizon that seemed unnaturally close. His destination was

far enough from the complex of pyramidal construction which housed Ra's

palace. It was beyond the view even of the crystal summit of the

tallest one the place where he'd just met with Sebek. Thoth was gasping

by the time he scaled the wall of the small craterlet. Even with the

lower gravity this represented unfamiliar exertion. At least this time

he had nothing to carry. The crater floor was of blackish rock, and if

the secret records hadn't told Thoth exactly where to look, he'd have

dismissed his destination as a shadow or a chance rock formation. Even

close by, the contours were irregular enough-and spalled by 8,500 years

of micrometeorite impacts-to be dismissed as natural. One had to look

down into the murky hole in the ground to identify the entrance to the

mastaba, or underground tomb. Thoth manipulated the entrance controls

and slipped inside. A pile of gear, brought by him piece by piece, lay

right at the access. He picked up a small hand light, then turned to

seal the tomb's portal. Only when he was sure it wouldn't be seen on the

surface did he activate his torch. The interior of the mastaba had

gotten far less attention than its artfully concealed entrance. The

chamber had apparently been chopped into existence with energy beams.

Its walls were crude and out of true, the blackish stone melted and

stagged in places. In one corner lay the burned and blasted remains of

the workers who'd done the excavating. Their twisted forms made a

striking contrast to the sarcophagus resting on the bumpy floor.

Exquisitely carved from the quartzose material reserved for the most

splendid of Ra's technological wonders, the stone box bulked large in

the crude quarters, seeming to glow with a muted golden radiance as

Thoth's light flashed on it. A sun disk decorated the head of the

funerary bier, which was twice as long as a man was tall. Hieroglyphs

ran across the waist-high covering stone-a hymn to eternal life. Thoth

turned to the other materials he'd cached in the tomb. He opened

canisters of pressurized air, bringing atmosphere back to the room for

the first time in millennia. At last Thoth opened his this mask and

took a deep breath. Then he turned to the sarcophagus, tapping several

of the hieroglyphics in a certain pattern. The crystal walls of the box

shifted as if they were live things. A seemingly solid cover stone

split into THREE sections. The sun disk rose head high, another section

of the cover stone moving with it, sliding out in two pieces to give the

disk wings. A pearlescent light flooded the room, coming from inside the

box. Thoth stepped forward, his face tight with excitement. The head of

the sarcophagus interior was shaped like a pharaonic headdress, forming

a sort of halo for the beautiful female face lying in repose there. The

woman had an olive complexion, dark but not tanned. Her aquiline

features were perfectly formed. With her eyes closed, she looked like a

beautifully crafted statue. Then Thoth noticed the slight rise and fall

of the lithe breasts under the pectoral necklace of her chest piece. The

eyes opened. Hathor lived.

CHAPTEr 2

INTELLIGENCE ASSESSMENT

Pain had not merely tinged, but had been Hathor's last conscious memory.

The battle for Ombos had no longer been in doubt. Step by ruthless step

she'd turned the situation on the revolting planet around until the

rebels didn't merely face defeat, they faced extermination. Even her own

troops feared her as the goddess who had covered a planet in blood.

Hathor had been directing operations against one of the few remaining

rebel strongholds, hidden in an inaccessible mountain range. The

udajeets, single-man gliders, had flown repeated missions, their paired

blasters firing incessantly to clear a landing area literally down to

scorched earth. But no sooner had she set foot to terra firma than one

of those red-haired devils burst out of a pit in the ground. The poor

bastard hadn't carried an energy weapon. Apparently, the rebels had

learned that the Horus guards could scan for such armament. But even as

Hathor aimed her own blast-lance, the rebel had hurled some sort of

metal implement. Spikes of white-hot agony radiated from her stomach.

But this was no mere stab wound. Her nerves first seemed dipped in

acid, then went terrifyingly numb. "Poison-" she slurred to one of the

Horus guards blasting the now unarmed assassin. Then paralysis set

in-and with it, searing pain. Every move on the way back to the StarGate

was etched in anguish. She could smell the rot emanating from her

stomach even during the brief udajeet ride. Whatever had been smeared

on that damnable blade was turning her flesh into a necrotic mess. If

she survived this, Hathor promised herself, she'd track that poison

down. A new weapon for her arsenal ... Even the flesh on her face was

black and splitting by the time she finally reached Tuat. Ra himself

was on hand to greet her, and Hathor's heart died a little at his

reaction to her appearance. There was only one hope for her survival.

That was internment in Ra's sarcophagus of wonder. Certain others of

Ra's servants-the irreplaceable ones-had been placed inside that

crystalline box, suffering from a variety of ills. They'd all emerged

fit and cured. So as Hathor came to consciousness, she opened her eyes

full of hope. Her strength and looks would be restored. And, of course,

Bill McCay - Stargate Rebellion.pdf

Plik z chomika:

Inne pliki z tego folderu:

Inne foldery tego chomika: