The general spread his hands, clearly just as exasperated as Janet, and turned to the Asgard. “Thor?”
“I am sorry, General Hammond, but as Tyr has said, we face other threats in our galaxy. We simply do not have the resources to help with a search for SG-1.”
“So you won’t help us find SG-1, but no one other than O’Neill is acceptable to you. Will you at least allow us the time to conduct a thorough search ourselves?”
Before either the Tollan or Asgard could answer, there was a knock at the door and the young guide who had brought them here entered and approached High Chancellor Travell. General Hammond turned to Janet, using the momentary distraction as a chance to regroup. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him so somber.
“I’m afraid we’re fighting a losing battle here, doctor,” he said, glancing over to where the Tollan were deep in conversation.
“I don’t understand why they’re so being so unrelenting. Don’t they understand that we’re trying to help them?”
“The Tollan have never been the easiest of bedfellows. It’s taken years of negotiation to establish any solid kind of relationship with them, and now I’m afraid all that hard work is being unraveled by the actions of a few.” Despite his obvious frustration at the current impasse, General Hammond still seemed inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt, although Janet wasn’t sure she could be so magnanimous. “Neither the Tollan nor the Asgard need to answer for their actions,” he reminded her. “They haven’t committed any crime.”
“And neither have we, General!” Janet struggled to keep her voice down. “Travell said herself that this isn’t a Triad. So why do I feel like we’re being judged and made to defend ourselves?”
“Because whoever is responsible for this is one of us, and we are responsible for them. Until we get SG-1 back, and O’Neill can find out who is doing this, then all of Earth will be held accountable, no matter how much we might dispute that fact.”
“And the Asgard? I would have expected Thor at least to have our back.”
At that, Hammond frowned and looked over her shoulder at where Thor and his people sat. “Yes,” he murmured, “I’m concerned about that myself. This threat he and Tyr have mentioned, I wonder…”
Before he could say anymore, High Chancellor Travell called the summit to order, having apparently finished whatever business was important enough to warrant the impromptu interruption.
“High Chancellor,” said Hammond, his mask of diplomacy in place once more, “Dr. Fraiser and I have discussed your comments on the matter at hand, and we fully understand both your and the Asgard’s position. We would like to offer you our full assurances that we will commit every resource to the search and rescue of SG-1. I’m confident that Colonel O’Neill will be back and ready to continue his investigation very soon.”
Travell’s expression, if sober before was now downright severe. “I’m afraid the situation is no longer as simple as that, General Hammond. SG-1 went missing two days ago, you say?”
Hammond nodded, but his face echoed the feeling of dread that had dropped like a stone into Janet’s gut.
“Well,” continued Travell, “we have a report of yet another technology theft from a Tollan outpost on one of our nearby planets. Less than two days ago. Perhaps SG-1 is not so guiltless as you would have us believe?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dawn broke on a morning not dissimilar from the preceding day. A few flakes of snow drifted down from a disconsolate sky and the air felt sharp and chill as Teal’c left the warmth of the tent. He drew in a deep breath and stretched his arms and back, shaking his muscles loose.
Major Carter looked up from where she crouched near a small fire, feeding a few sticks into the flames. “Hey Teal’c,” she said with a wan smile. “Get some rest?”
“I did.”
She nodded toward the fire. “The colonel wanted coffee and I figured we should save the Sterno for emergencies.” She held out her hands toward the growing flames. “The heat’s welcome too.”
“It is prudent to conserve our supplies,” Teal’c agreed. “Have you conducted an inventory, Major Carter?”
She rose to her feet, keeping one eye on the burgeoning fire. “We’ve got about three days of food, a week on short rations. But water might be a problem if the snow’s contaminated. Our radios should last at least a week, though, if we limit their use to emergencies. I figure we’ll just hole up here until we see the gate open. We’re still within radio range if the SGC try to contact us via the MALP.”