For the last half-hour their trek through the forest had been silent. Mostly. The crunch of their boots across fallen leaves and small roots, the rustle of leaves overhead, the occasional (too occasional) darting of some small animal through the undergrowth. But all four of them had spontaneously run out of banter, it seemed. And Sam could check in on them, quick glances out of the corner of her eye, and catch an expression she knew how to read: this place gave them no reason to be on edge, but all of them were on edge.
Then again. The boles of the trees were bone-white, but whenever she was't looking at them, Sam would swear they were dark, in deep shadow. The sunlight streaming through was the bright yellow-white light of any number of worlds, but if she closed her eyes for a second, Sam would swear it was pure white and pale, like movie-set moonlight. It was day, and she could feel the warmth of day dappling her shoulders. But she had a feeling that when she went back to Earth, sat at her computer, started to write this up, it would slip out of her fingers that it was night, cold, hard to see.
That was enough to unsettle her.
A few times, Teal'c had stopped, pressed his fingers into the ground, frowned. When Colonel O'Neill had asked him what was up, he'd seemed unable to give an answer that satisfied himself. But Sam felt it too – she wanted to lop off the branch of one of these trees, examine the grain, feel it between her fingers. She wanted to know precisely how real this place was, because it felt like smoke and mirrors. Like they were being drawn in somewhere, with an illusion carefully painted over the real world.
But the MALP had sent back the right images, and the UAV had sent back the right data, and her handheld read the energy signature holding steady not too much farther in front of them. And yes, they'd encountered planets with illusions that could fool the MALP at least, but constantly questioning reality wasn't good for anyone's sanity. You had to take it on faith that you'd end up where you thought you were going – and if that faith was scaffolded by skepticism here and there, well, that was just part of the bargain or exploration.
After a few more steps, it was Daniel who stopped, turning to the rest of them. The Colonel looked over with Please, Daniel, feel free to explain expression, and Sam looked, keeping half her attention on the handheld. Just in case it would stutter, shift, slip up.
"We've been walking for a while," he pointed out.
"That's the job description," the Colonel crabbed. "Go to new and interesting planets, walk places, get shot at."
Daniel gave on that entirely, and turned to her instead. "Sam. When the UAV picked up that signal, about how far was it?"
"About a mile from the 'gate, as the crow flies," Sam said, and she could see where he was going. "But we haven't been going in a straight path. And–"
The terrain has slowed us down, she would have said, but she couldn't remember anything more than the occasional root, the thorny bush to step around. They hadn't been going down crags or crossing streams. And thinking back, she couldn't remember an obstacle that'd blocked their path or diverted it. Just... the trees, and the undergrowth, and the scuffling of animals she could hear but never saw.
"We have not been going in a straight path," Teal'c confirmed. "Major Carter. We have always progressed directly toward the reading?"
Sam turned, scanning the area. The reading remained solidly... where it was, where it had been this whole time. Where it seemed to have been.
"Yes," she said – she let her mouth let out the word. Her attention was elsewhere. "I'm not picking up the MALP."
The Colonel cursed, and his hand hit his pocket. A second later out came the compass and the aerial photo – folded, with creases interrupting the ink – the MALP had snapped. Not much topography there; thick forest, a clearing around the Stargate, no indication of anything that could be seen beneath the leaf cover where the energy signature had come from. As maps went, it was fairly useless.
Sam pulled out her own compass. This place had a magnetic field, a magnetic north; her compass aligned itself to it with no problem. Which didn't tell her much.
Daniel cleared his throat. "All right," he said. "...how far is the signature? Sam?"
"Third of a mile," Sam answered. Close enough to suggest that they'd get there soon enough. Far enough that they'd need to walk a little bit, yet. There was something psychologically suggestive about that.
"Are you sure?" Daniel asked.
She'd been keeping an eye on direction this whole time, glancing at the distance as a point of curiosity. Apparently not a point which stuck in her head. She couldn't remember any milestones they'd passed.
"It's what my equipment is reading," she said. Answered, no. I'm not sure. Why didn't I notice this before now?
Except she had – they all had. Hence the pensive silence. But something about this place had wrapped itself around them and convinced them it wasn't worth bringing it up. Look: the sun was so warm and reassuring, and the air was cool and had no sense of menace. Everything was just as it should be, wasn't it?
Sam closed her eyes for a moment, counted primes to twenty-three. "All right," she said. "I think we have a problem."
Alien will-o'-the-wisps!
Then again. The boles of the trees were bone-white, but whenever she was't looking at them, Sam would swear they were dark, in deep shadow. The sunlight streaming through was the bright yellow-white light of any number of worlds, but if she closed her eyes for a second, Sam would swear it was pure white and pale, like movie-set moonlight. It was day, and she could feel the warmth of day dappling her shoulders. But she had a feeling that when she went back to Earth, sat at her computer, started to write this up, it would slip out of her fingers that it was night, cold, hard to see.
That was enough to unsettle her.
A few times, Teal'c had stopped, pressed his fingers into the ground, frowned. When Colonel O'Neill had asked him what was up, he'd seemed unable to give an answer that satisfied himself. But Sam felt it too – she wanted to lop off the branch of one of these trees, examine the grain, feel it between her fingers. She wanted to know precisely how real this place was, because it felt like smoke and mirrors. Like they were being drawn in somewhere, with an illusion carefully painted over the real world.
But the MALP had sent back the right images, and the UAV had sent back the right data, and her handheld read the energy signature holding steady not too much farther in front of them. And yes, they'd encountered planets with illusions that could fool the MALP at least, but constantly questioning reality wasn't good for anyone's sanity. You had to take it on faith that you'd end up where you thought you were going – and if that faith was scaffolded by skepticism here and there, well, that was just part of the bargain or exploration.
After a few more steps, it was Daniel who stopped, turning to the rest of them. The Colonel looked over with Please, Daniel, feel free to explain expression, and Sam looked, keeping half her attention on the handheld. Just in case it would stutter, shift, slip up.
"We've been walking for a while," he pointed out.
"That's the job description," the Colonel crabbed. "Go to new and interesting planets, walk places, get shot at."
Daniel gave on that entirely, and turned to her instead. "Sam. When the UAV picked up that signal, about how far was it?"
"About a mile from the 'gate, as the crow flies," Sam said, and she could see where he was going. "But we haven't been going in a straight path. And–"
The terrain has slowed us down, she would have said, but she couldn't remember anything more than the occasional root, the thorny bush to step around. They hadn't been going down crags or crossing streams. And thinking back, she couldn't remember an obstacle that'd blocked their path or diverted it. Just... the trees, and the undergrowth, and the scuffling of animals she could hear but never saw.
"We have not been going in a straight path," Teal'c confirmed. "Major Carter. We have always progressed directly toward the reading?"
Sam turned, scanning the area. The reading remained solidly... where it was, where it had been this whole time. Where it seemed to have been.
"Yes," she said – she let her mouth let out the word. Her attention was elsewhere. "I'm not picking up the MALP."
The Colonel cursed, and his hand hit his pocket. A second later out came the compass and the aerial photo – folded, with creases interrupting the ink – the MALP had snapped. Not much topography there; thick forest, a clearing around the Stargate, no indication of anything that could be seen beneath the leaf cover where the energy signature had come from. As maps went, it was fairly useless.
Sam pulled out her own compass. This place had a magnetic field, a magnetic north; her compass aligned itself to it with no problem. Which didn't tell her much.
Daniel cleared his throat. "All right," he said. "...how far is the signature? Sam?"
"Third of a mile," Sam answered. Close enough to suggest that they'd get there soon enough. Far enough that they'd need to walk a little bit, yet. There was something psychologically suggestive about that.
"Are you sure?" Daniel asked.
She'd been keeping an eye on direction this whole time, glancing at the distance as a point of curiosity. Apparently not a point which stuck in her head. She couldn't remember any milestones they'd passed.
"It's what my equipment is reading," she said. Answered, no. I'm not sure. Why didn't I notice this before now?
Except she had – they all had. Hence the pensive silence. But something about this place had wrapped itself around them and convinced them it wasn't worth bringing it up. Look: the sun was so warm and reassuring, and the air was cool and had no sense of menace. Everything was just as it should be, wasn't it?
Sam closed her eyes for a moment, counted primes to twenty-three. "All right," she said. "I think we have a problem."