Read Online SGA - 14 - Death Game by Jo Graham - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jo Graham
Tags: Fiction, General, Suspense, Science-Fiction, adventure, Fantasy, Media Tie-In, Space Opera, Prisoners, Interplanetary voyages, Radio and Television Novels, Amnesia
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asked. She had already removed her jacket, and the wind felt good on her shoulders, but there were no more clothes she could remove in decency. Well, she probably could as far as the locals were concerned. Most of them, men and women, didn’t seem to see the need for leg coverings. Tunics came to mid-thigh, a very sensible thing in her opinion. She would be comfortable in shirt and underclothing, but she imagined John would not like it if she took her pants off.
“Hot,” he said. “Really hot.” He licked his lips as if in memory of moisture.
“You have been in the desert before?”
“Yeah.” He stood up and took a few steps away, seemingly entranced by the far line of hills. Clearly that was not working as a conversational topic. Or perhaps he was feeling worse than she thought.
The barge rocked gently on the water, drawn by placid oxen on either side of the canal, each ridden by a young boy wearing a broad sun hat. Along the canal irrigation ditches ran back, sometimes only a few dozen feet, sometimes much further. Here and there houses stood, visible from afar by the tree or two that stood around them, by the patches of green. From above, the canal must look like a lumpy worm across the landscape, the bulges of irrigated patches along it at irregular intervals.
They were moving more or less directly northward, toward the sea. Unfortunately that was in the exact opposite direction from the Stargate. On the other hand, it was in the opposite direction from the crash, from where the Wraith would be seeking them if they were. Which was another strangeness. Surely the Wraith were looking for them? If not, why not? Were they so certain that they could not leave this planet that it did not even seem worthwhile to find them?
Just before midday a servant brought them water and a tray of the ubiquitous fruit. Teyla admitted that in the heat she really did not want more to eat than the fruit, which was juicy and delicious. John came and sat down again from his endless pacing and looking at the desert as though it told him something. He looked a little better. The barge was not a strenuous way to travel at all, but it was tedious and did play upon one’s nerves.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
John bit into a ripe sila , juice squirting across his chin. “That it’s weird. It’s not that thinly populated. They’re strung out along the canal, but there are thousands of people here. Presumably this isn’t the only canal, either. And a bunch of this stuff, like the canal and the irrigation projects, take a lot of coordination and engineering expertise to pull off. Why haven’t the Wraith bombed them back into the Stone Age? Why haven’t they culled this world like they have so many others? Something’s not right about this.”
“I share your sense of unease,” Teyla said. He had spoken the words that were behind the creeping sense of wrongness she felt. “I have seen other worlds with as much, but they were in fear of the Wraith. They had precautions, plans. These people do not even seem to know what we mean. Why have the Wraith not come?”
John shook his head.
Teyla picked up a piece of fruit and continued. “There are, for better or worse, three responses to the Wraith. To hide, as the Genii do, and hope that the Wraith will not discover the extent of one’s civilization. To defy them and fight, as the Satedans did. Or to disperse and give them no targets, as my people did. All of the peoples of this galaxy that I have met do one or another of these. These people…” Her voice trailed off as the barge came upon another large stone wharf, passing a barge that lay tied up beside it, cattle being loaded aboard. “These people are a puzzle.”
“Something’s rotten,” John said. “I don’t like it.” He took the radio from his pocket. The light flashed standby.
“You will try to call them again?”
He shook his head. “The battery is low. And we’ll hear them when they call us in
“Hot,” he said. “Really hot.” He licked his lips as if in memory of moisture.
“You have been in the desert before?”
“Yeah.” He stood up and took a few steps away, seemingly entranced by the far line of hills. Clearly that was not working as a conversational topic. Or perhaps he was feeling worse than she thought.
The barge rocked gently on the water, drawn by placid oxen on either side of the canal, each ridden by a young boy wearing a broad sun hat. Along the canal irrigation ditches ran back, sometimes only a few dozen feet, sometimes much further. Here and there houses stood, visible from afar by the tree or two that stood around them, by the patches of green. From above, the canal must look like a lumpy worm across the landscape, the bulges of irrigated patches along it at irregular intervals.
They were moving more or less directly northward, toward the sea. Unfortunately that was in the exact opposite direction from the Stargate. On the other hand, it was in the opposite direction from the crash, from where the Wraith would be seeking them if they were. Which was another strangeness. Surely the Wraith were looking for them? If not, why not? Were they so certain that they could not leave this planet that it did not even seem worthwhile to find them?
Just before midday a servant brought them water and a tray of the ubiquitous fruit. Teyla admitted that in the heat she really did not want more to eat than the fruit, which was juicy and delicious. John came and sat down again from his endless pacing and looking at the desert as though it told him something. He looked a little better. The barge was not a strenuous way to travel at all, but it was tedious and did play upon one’s nerves.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
John bit into a ripe sila , juice squirting across his chin. “That it’s weird. It’s not that thinly populated. They’re strung out along the canal, but there are thousands of people here. Presumably this isn’t the only canal, either. And a bunch of this stuff, like the canal and the irrigation projects, take a lot of coordination and engineering expertise to pull off. Why haven’t the Wraith bombed them back into the Stone Age? Why haven’t they culled this world like they have so many others? Something’s not right about this.”
“I share your sense of unease,” Teyla said. He had spoken the words that were behind the creeping sense of wrongness she felt. “I have seen other worlds with as much, but they were in fear of the Wraith. They had precautions, plans. These people do not even seem to know what we mean. Why have the Wraith not come?”
John shook his head.
Teyla picked up a piece of fruit and continued. “There are, for better or worse, three responses to the Wraith. To hide, as the Genii do, and hope that the Wraith will not discover the extent of one’s civilization. To defy them and fight, as the Satedans did. Or to disperse and give them no targets, as my people did. All of the peoples of this galaxy that I have met do one or another of these. These people…” Her voice trailed off as the barge came upon another large stone wharf, passing a barge that lay tied up beside it, cattle being loaded aboard. “These people are a puzzle.”
“Something’s rotten,” John said. “I don’t like it.” He took the radio from his pocket. The light flashed standby.
“You will try to call them again?”
He shook his head. “The battery is low. And we’ll hear them when they call us in
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