A long silence fell as Makepeace absorbed the news. Stoic as ever, he didn’t even look surprised. “Those alliances have always been a raw deal for us, sir,” he said eventually. “Maybe we’d be better off without them, relying on our own knowhow instead.”
“Better off without them?” Hammond repeated, aware of the edge creeping into his voice. “Colonel, those alliances are the only things that have kept this planet safe.”
Makepeace nodded, but then said, “But maybe we relied on them too much, sir. Maybe we should have built up our own capability instead.”
It was an old argument, he was weary of it. “Maybe we should have,” he conceded with a sigh. “And maybe we relied too much on Colonel O’Neill’s friendship with the Asgard. But we are where we are and it would certainly serve our enemies’ interests if the Asgard withdrew us from the Protected Planets Treaty.”
Makepeace shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. “But that’s not an imminent danger, is it, sir?”
He hesitated before he answered, but there was no point in hiding the truth. “Colonel, if we don’t find Colonel O’Neill soon, I believe it’s a very imminent danger.”
Makepeace stood up, paced the length of the room and back again. “What kind of timescale are we talking about, General?”
“We’re talking days, Colonel.”
“Days?”
“Our allies wanted O’Neill to —” He stopped himself before he said more; he daren’t talk about the SGC mole. But, if they didn’t retrieve SG-1 soon, all secrecy would be moot because there’d be a Goa’uld fleet in orbit and then everyone would know everything. Of course by then it would be too late and, instead of searching for SG-1, they’d be scrambling around looking for an Alpha Site and wishing like hell the Appropriations Committee hadn’t put the kibosh on O’Neill’s plan. He ran a hand over his head, trying to scrub away the panic. It was dangerous and only ever produced bad decisions. “Colonel,” he said after a moment, “I’m telling you this because there’s a chance that SG-1 has been abducted by those who would profit from the collapse of our alliances. And I need you to factor that possibility into your search.”
“You mean the Goa’uld?” He stopped pacing and fixed Hammond with a probing look. “You think the Goa’uld might have done this deliberately, to damage our alliances?”
“The Goa’uld,” he said. “Or Maybourne.”
“Not Maybourne.”
Hammond lifted his eyebrows at the colonel’s vehemence.
“He —” Makepeace broke off. “He’s a slime ball, sir, but he’s not a traitor.”
“Son, Colonel Maybourne is nothing but a traitor: self-serving, conniving, and unscrupulous.” He cocked his head, studying Makepeace’s unyielding features with sudden doubt. “Don’t tell me you’re sympathetic to his cause?”
“Absolutely not, sir, but he’s an Air Force officer. He wouldn’t harm his own people.”
Hammond shook his head. “I don’t know who his people are, anymore, Colonel. But there’s too much at stake to rule out any possibilities.”
Makepeace frowned. “Yes sir. I understand.”
“Give it some thought,” Hammond said, studying the troubled expression on Makepeace’s face. “Anything your team can discover, or remember, that might shed light on the whereabouts of SG-1 will be valuable.”
“I’ll do everything I can to locate them, sir,” he promised. “I’ll —” He cleared his throat. “Everything I can, sir.”
Hammond nodded. “I know you will, son.”
After Makepeace had left, Hammond sat in silence for a while. On his desk, the red phone gleamed dully in the light of his lamp and he stared at it until it blurred. It had always looked ominous, recalling as it did those long fearful years when Earth had been poised on the brink of mutually assured destruction, but today it seemed to take on an even graver significance. If O’Neill wasn’t back before the scheduled mission to Tollana then he’d have no choice but to make the call, but until then he was determined to cling to what little hope remained and to carry on believing that next time the Stargate opened it would be to welcome his people home.
CHAPTER TWELVE
He’s digging. There’s something he needs, something he can’t live without. It’s buried and he can’t reach it. He’s digging, but earth is collapsing in on all sides, faster than he can dig it out, burying him in black, loamy dirt.