“Dix thinks a hundred thousand.”
Daniel shook his head. “I had no idea there were that many people on this planet.”
“This ain’t the only camp,” Hunter said, giving him a sideways look. “Dix says they’re all over the world. He can see, from up there.” He glanced up at the sky.
“From Hecate’s ship?”
Hunter nodded. “Dix says there’s hundreds of thousands of people here. He says it’s an army, enough to drive off the Amam.”
Hundreds of thousands of people in camps like this? It wasn’t an army — it was a catastrophe. “We can’t let this carry on,” Daniel said out loud, although he was talking more to himself than to Hunter.
But Hunter answered anyway. “We ain’t gonna let it carry on,” he said. “Hecate will help us, Dix will help us.”
“And we’ll help you too,” Daniel added, determinedly ignoring his inner Jack O’Neill warning him against making rash promises. But this was an atrocity on a global scale and Daniel didn’t give a damn what anyone said — he was going to ensure Earth helped these people if it was the last thing he did.
“Dix takes anyone prepared to fight,” Hunter said, then nodded toward a narrow trail ahead. “That there’s the way down. Be careful, it’s steep.”
It was steep, but there were enough trees around to hold onto and the descent was at least fast. Then they were crossing an empty patch of no-man’s-land toward the edge of the enormous tent city.
There was no barrier to the camp, no wire fence keeping people in, which surprised Daniel. Contrary to his first impression, it wasn’t a prison camp. It was more like a refugee camp, with all the misery and desperation that entailed. Towers rose up at regular intervals around the perimeter, roughly constructed of wood with a large platform at the top — watch towers, Daniel thought at first, but he couldn’t see any Amam patrolling them. They seemed abandoned.
“Not watch towers,” Hunter corrected, when Daniel asked. “Feeding stations.”
He felt his eyebrows climb. “Feeding stations as in… ?” He made a clawing gesture with one hand.
Hunter shook his head. “We’re fodder to them, sure enough, but it don’t do them no good if we starve to death before they eat.”
“Wait…” It took a moment to process the thought. “The Amam feed the people in the camp?”
Hunter nodded. “Twice a week they send Snatchers to leave rations atop the towers.”
Daniel felt his stomach turn with a deep nausea; these people were being kept like animals, like cattle. “Why do they stay?” he wondered aloud. “Why do they live like this?”
Hunter slipped him a look that said he should know better than to ask. “Because they ain’t got no choice.”
And that was the truth of it, he supposed. No one lived like this if there was an alternative. Across the galaxy, humans clung to life with a tenacity that sometimes defied reason. If it was this or death, they’d choose this — no matter how hopeless their lives had become.
“Now stick close,” Hunter said as they approached the edge of the camp. “There’s some here who’d stick you as soon as look at you if they think you’ve got a bite to eat.”
Daniel let his hand come to rest on his weapon. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I can take care of myself.”
Hunter looked dubious, but didn’t argue and together they headed into the sprawling, stinking camp.
The ventilation chute was hot and cramped. Sam lay stretched out on her front, her arms folded beneath her. It was the same position she’d occupied for the past twenty minutes and for five of those she’d tried to ignore the pain that was creeping into her stiffening joints. Teal’c lay behind her, just as cramped, and she didn’t want to guess what discomfort the large Jaffa might be suffering.
She watched the corridor, hidden from the patrolling Amam guard by only the thin mesh covering of the vent. She was anxious to make a move, but knew that rash action would mean an end to their plan before it had begun. Stealth was their biggest advantage. For now.
She checked her watch. By her count, a patrol was due to pass within the next ten seconds, and sure enough she heard heavy footsteps approach.
Wait, wait, wait…
Shadows passed over the grill.
Turning as silently as she could in the cramped space, she gestured to Teal’c, letting him know what was coming next.
Two grunts, heading clockwise, move out in 5… 4… 3… 2…
Sam pushed against the grill, which she’d already loosened with her knife, gripping it tightly so it didn’t go clattering to the floor, and placed it inside the vent. Then she wriggled forward, dropping down softly. Teal’c followed, but his boots hit the ground with an audible thump and she cringed, looking up the hallway to where the grunts had disappeared around the corner. There was no sound to indicate they were coming back. If her count was right, she and Teal’c had three minutes before they returned.