This fic has been bouncing around my mind for many years, and it is my hope that if I start it, I will force myself to continue writing and developing it. *** American military train, southern Nevada. June 10th, 1939 Rail was a dismal way to travel. The passenger on the train shifted uncomfortably, and sighed. There was no question that ever since railroad travel had been developed over a hundred years ago, nobody had enjoyed it. Certainly nations prospered from their mastery of the rails, and it had opened the American west and the Russian east alike, but sitting in a small wooden room for five days was nobody's idea of comfort. He couldn't even walk around to stretch his legs, because if he did he would simply fall over. He looked at the newspaper again and sighed. The Nazis seemed to be growing restless again, and he had a feeling war was about to erupt all over again. Having fled his home some seven years ago, he had tried to stay out of things, but his increasing demands that something be done had attracted some attention, and just one week ago some government gentlemen in military uniforms had shown up at his house and asked him if he wouldn't mind consulting on a project of some special importance. Project: Solomon was the name, though he couldn't see any particular abundance of reason in te leadership of it. From the brief notes they had given him, it was all very sketchy as to what they even wanted him to do. A screech of the breaks and a not-so-gentle jolt brought him out of his reflection, and the door opened. "We are here, sir. I'll meet you on the platform with your bags." He stretched and moaned, his joints creaking in his old age. He felt all of his seventy years, he had seen quite a bit in his time. He stepped out onto the platform, squinting in the early morning desert light. There was a tall, distinguished looking man on the platform, undoubtedly the project director he was supposed to meet. "Doctor Langford, sir!" He called out over the engine noise. "I'm pleased to meet you." Langford held out his hand and grinned. "And you too, Doctor Einstein. Welcome to Project Solomon." *** Hawthorne Naval Ammunition Depot, western Nevada "And you say you found it in Giza in 1928? I've never heard anything about this!" The doctors Einstein and Langford were going back and forth during Langford's personal tour of the installation. "That's because we kept it quiet, Doctor Einstein." "Please, call me Albert." "Only if you call me John." "Fair enough." They laughed, as they walked down the hallways. "What I don't understand, John, is why I'm here. I'm no archaeologist, I'm a physicist, and I'm not a military man, either." "No, no, that's not right!" Came an angry voice from an open door. As they peaked in, they saw a team of academics furiously leafing through books and peering at a large slateboard covered in egyptian Heiroglyphs, while a man in his late thirties wearing a tweed coat furiously crossed out translations. The board read "YEAR 10 OF KING ?, SKY, RA, THE SUN DISK, COFFIN, DOOR TO HEAVEN." "This is Doctor Henry Jones, another consultant the Army contracted for project Solomon. He's an expert in ancient languages and matters of antiquity." Langford nodded at Jones' direction. "Pleased to meet you, Doctor Jones." Einstein didn't know why, but he felt an instant like for the man. "Hey, hang on, I'm onto something here." Henry Jones barely turned around. "This is practically backwards! It’s all wrong. What did you use, Budge? Why do they keep reprinting his books?" He started scribbling on the board. "That’s a curious word to use 'qebeh.' Then an adverbial sedjem-en-ef with a cleft subject 'sealed and buried'," He looked over at the men "NOT coffin." He continued working "Not 'Forever to eternity – for all time'," he crossed out and rewrote a section. "You really should have gotten that one." he smirked at the other schollars." He stepped back "This should read, A MILLION YEARS INTO THE SKY IS RA, SUN GOD. SEALED AND BURIED FOR ALL TIME HIS…" He crossed out the last few symbols "It’s not DOOR to HEAVEN. The proper translation is…STARGATE." Einstein and Jones looked at Langford, and at the same time asked "What's a Stargate?" *** Neu Schwabia, Antarctica The Third German Antarctic expedition was proceeding very well. Already the reconnassance flights were gathering more data about he continent than any other expedition in history. As one of the Dornier Wal craft landed, the pilot waved wildly at the expedition leader. "Herr Richter! Herr Richter!" The pilot was grinning as he climbed out of his plane. "During my flight over grid I-14, I spotted a large fissure with what appeared to be metal inside. A large piece, maybe another aircraft." "Are you sure, son? There's alot of ice down there to dazzle you." The pilot shook his head. "No sir, I recommend we take the seaplane too McMurdo sound, land, and take a look. If there's someone else flying planes at the bottom of the world, we ought to find out." "Very well, we'll go after the next storm." Alfred Richter looked at the sky "Its sure to be a big one."
Believe it or not, Hawthorne NAD existed in real life, and if I had had my way I would've gone with an army depot, but its in the right place for my purposes.
Hawthorne represents a remote central location in an area where there was a lot of dry, arid land available. Just the thing for storing huge amounts of ammo.
Chapter 3 (part 1) Hawthorne NAD, 15 hours after first activation Since the power had gone out, the base had been a highly directed storm of barked orders and moving crates, and now Major Hanneken was reaping the whirlwind. Almost the entire base had needed to be rewired following the energy pulse when the gate deactivated, and the telegraph and wireless were still down, which was in some ways a blessing. Assembled in what was now known as the ‘Gate Room’ was perhaps the most heavily armed marine platoon in history, which the men had dubbed ‘Stargate Marine Force One”. The lack of communications was a blessing in that Hanneken was able to use his discretionary authority to send a force through, but that also meant he couldn’t in good conscience risk too much men and equipment on a mission they might not return from. Still, what Hanneken had put together would pack quite a punch. Standing in front of the gate were three automatic rifle squads, with M1903s and M1918A2 browning automatic rifles shining lethally in the dim light. For a heavier hit, the force also included a machine gun squad with a .30caliber M1919. And, just to make sure they could smash whatever they met, Major Lewis ‘Chesty’ Puller, the commander of the base’s marine contingent and the military leader of the force, had cajoled Hanneken into adding a single 61mm mortar squad. The force also had a single M3 scout car with a gun mounted on it, but the most powerful (and strangest) part of the force were the pair of prototype Tucker Armored Cars, each of which sported a quad-mounted .50 caliber machine gun, which could be operated remotely from inside. Small and incredibly fast, they had been set for field trials nearby in the next few weeks. When Doctor Einstein had asked them why it was SMF-1, a young private matter-of-factly said “In case the first one gets killed, Sir.” Indiana Jones was standing in the doorway, watching Doctor Einstein and the technicians making some final adjustments to the power systems to make sure there were no accidents. Some engineer had even cobbled together a mechanical dialer to make sure that they didn’t have to sacrifice two lives every time they turned on the infernal machine. “Doctor Jones?” A soft, female voice spoke from behind. He turned and exclaimed “Katherine!” He was surprised to see Katherine Langford, the Professor’s daughter and only nineteen years old. Since he joined Project Solomon there had been more than a few long dinner meetings at the Langford home, and Katherine had shown herself to be a proper hostess, as well as a keen intellect on matters of antiquity. She was also hopelessly smitten by Lieutenant Littlefield. “What are you doing here?” She looked to be on the verge of tears. “Since the blackout, father didn’t see any point in lying to me. I came down to watch the rescue mission depart, and to be honest nobody has noticed me enough to realize I’m not supposed to be here.” She stared into his eyes, trembling “Do you think he’s still alive?” Indy put a hand on her shoulder. “Sure I do. We know he was ok when we lost contact, and he’s in a safe enough place. He didn’t mention anything alive over there; he’s probably bored and taking a nap right now. Besides, Ernie’s the bravest kid I ever met, to go through like that. We’ll bring him back.” Katherine reached for her neck. “I want you to give this to him.” She took off a golden necklace, and fastened it around his neck. Indy turned it over in his hand; it was a stylized Egyptian sun with the eye of Ra in the middle. “It brought me luck, and maybe it will bring you luck until you bring him back to me.” He nodded, and slowly walked to stand with the marines. The stargate was beginning to shake as it dialed; the proposed shock absorbers wouldn’t be ready for another week or so. The seventh chevron locked into place, and the swirling vortex reappeared, bathing the room in a blue-white glow. “Wait, wait a minute please!” Doctor Einstein pushed his way through the marines holding a bulky piece of equipment. “I need to check the stabilization field!” He trotted up to the ramp and bent low, twisting some dials on the meter. Then he straightened, and tossed the device aside. He flashed a smile at the men in the room, and to a dozen shouts of “NO!” he hopped through the gate. “SONOFA BITCH!” Major Puller yelled. “Alright, Marines! Let’s get through that gate before a motherloving brass band sneaks through! Squad A, double time march! Squad B, go!” He sent his men through one group at a time before following them in. The next to go were the vehicles, rumbling up the ramp one at a time. Professor Langford made as if to follow, but Indiana stopped him “Sorry, Professor. With Einstein on the other side, you’re the only expert on this thing left on the planet.” “You’re goddamn right!” Major Hanneken yelled over the shaking. “Remember, Jones! You’ve got two radios. We’ll dial in twenty-four hours, and every twenty-four hours after that. If we don’t hear from you for three days, I’m going to stick that thing in a block of cement.” Indiana nodded, and walked up the ramp. He stopped at the event horizon, and played his hand along the field. It felt like sunlight across his hand, and then he stepped through. For a moment, Indy thought he had ceased to exist, and then his universe exploded with sensation. He felt like he was simultaneously shredded, spun, compressed, and stretched across the universe. His body was flash-frozen and broiled, and he felt like a baseball bat had struck him firmly across his stomach while a larger implement struck him lower. He emerged from the other side, stumbling in the darkness. It was, he decided, worse than having a priest of Kali try and rip your heart out of your chest. <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o> </o> He moaned as the room spun. “Here, sir.” Strong arms lifted him to a sitting position, and he was handed a heavy container. “Most of us lost it coming in, nothing to be ashamed of.” <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:State><st1lace>Indiana</st1lace></st1:State> obliged him by vomiting heavily into Ernest Littlefield’s abandoned helmet. *** Part 2 coming tomorrow!
Okay, and "Chesty" Puller seals it -- too much name-dropping. I insist you invent a character this instant.
Chapter 3, part 2. Alien Planet He tried to focus his eyes as he looked around. He was in a large stone chamber filled with columns. The stonework was reminiscent of the fourth and fifth dynasties, but some accents derived from the twelfth. The walls were clean and smooth, virtually untouched by time. “Is Doctor Einstein alright?” He swallowed some water from a canteen the private handed him. “I’m fine, Henry.” A voice echoed through the chamber. “You must come out and see this.” Unsteadily, Indiana wobbled to his feet and brushed frost crystals from the brim of his hat. He walked slowly to the source of the voice, and then threw up his hands as bright sunlight assaulted his eyes. He bowed his head, letting his hat protect him, as he walked out. As his eyes adjusted, he looked out and was dumbfounded. They were in the middle of an endless sea of dunes, beneath a crystal blue sky in which three moons could be plainly seen. Turning around, his mind swam again as he saw two massive obelisks jutting over a hundred feet into the air, and directly behind him the building he had just come out of was a massive pyramid, bigger than the Great Pyramid at Giza. What’s more, with the pyramid was still covered in white limestone and its golden cap was in place, it could have been finished yesterday. And wonder, the two doctors began to walk down the ramp. At the top, one of the rifle squads was setting up a watch post, to secure the entrance and scan the horizon for ‘Martians.’ As they walked down, they saw Major Puller and the rest of SMF-1 setting up a base camp in the lee of the ramp, protected on three sides with some crude earthworks and the light machine gun guarding the only open approach. Puller was in rare form, calling out orders as he lent a hand in setting up the tent. “Freeman, you and Brown keep sweeping the perimeter- see if you can find any sign of Littlefield.” He nodded at the doctors “And you, Doctor Jones, take one of the radiomen and get back to the gate. I want us to re-establish contact within the hour, let them know we’re ok.” “I need more time,” Indy insisted “There’s bound to be more structures here, traces of civilization…” Puller raised an eyebrow “What are you trying to say?” Indy pointed at the pyramid “Look at it! It’s an exact replica of the great pyramid of Giza. We’re not going to find any hieroglyphic or pictorial displays. We’ve got to expand our search…” Major Puller exchanged a glance with Corporal Wethers, one of the armoured car drivers. He stepped closer to Indiana. “Your job is to re-align the star gate and get us back home. Can you do it or not?” He shook his head. “I can’t.” “Can’t… or won’t?” The anger in Puller’s voice was almost visible. “If they marked the co-ordinates on tablets back on Earth, there must be something like that here. I just have to find it.” Jones looked around. “Gotta be somewhere.” “Find it!? That wasn’t the deal!” Lieutenant Wethers couldn’t contain his silence. “Lieutenant, stow that lip.” Major Puller held up a hand. “You lying son of a bitch!” Wethers shoved Jones hard and took another step, but stopped short as he found himself staring down the barrel of a Webley Mark IV that Jones had seemingly produced from nowhere. “Lieutenant!” Puller shouted. “We’ll continue to make camp here and conduct sweeps of the surrounding area. “But sir!” “You have your orders.” The lieutenant glared at Jones, then turned and left. After a heavy pause, Puller returned to work as well. *** Base Camp, unknown planet, two hours later A hammer sailed through the air, and connected solidly with a tent spike. Lieutenant Wethers was stripped to his shirtsleeves under the hot sun, as the camp went up. Another marine, a private, shrugged. “I don’t see how it’s a big deal. If we don’t return soon, they’ll just turn the gate back on from the other side, won’t they?” “Not a chance, Brown.” Wethers shook his head. “Hawthorne is locked down tight, and that contraption is a one-way door. A radio is one thing, but unless we turn it on here, we’re stuck.” Indy came walking into the base camp, ignoring the hostile looks the marines were sending at him. He grabbed a chair and sat in the shade, pouring some water into a rag and wiping his brow. “Excuse me, Doctor Jones?” Wethers walked over to him. Indy fixed him with a wary look. “Don’t you think you should be doing something?” The angry lieutenant picked up Indy’s duffel. “Like getting us the hell out of here?” He heaved the duffel, and Indy deflected it, sending it spilling over the edge of the next dune. Indy sighed, and looked at him. Sometimes it was better not to rise to the baiting, but he had a feeling there was a mighty punch in Lieutenant Wethers’ future. He made his way down the back of the dune, and started scrambling for his books. They were scattered all over, and papers were blowing freely in the wind. He gathered them quickly, cursing both the U.S. Marine Corps and mysterious alien deserts. As he picked up the last book, he saw something in the sand that made his heart skip a beat. Deep set prints, walking around the next dune. He couldn’t believe it, and for a moment he considered going back and telling the others. That flight of sensibility soon left, and Indiana Jones followed the tracks. Back at the camp, Major Puller came upon the men. “Where’s Doctor Jones?” They exchanges smirks, and Wethers spoke “He dropped his stuff over the dune, sir, I think he went to go pick it up, Sir.” The smile soon vanished as Puller glowered at him. “We’ll go help him, Sir.” The men rose and saluted, scrambling over the top of the dune. The tumbled down to the slope, and saw loose papers blowing in the breeze, along with two sets of footprints, only one of which was human. Major Puller frowned at them, and turned back to the camp. “Squad B, on my position!” Meanwhile, two dunes over, Indy reached another crest. He immediately dropped low, to avoid being seen. Below him, chewing on a patch of purplish desert scrub, was a large creature that looked like a cross between a buffalo and a mammoth. Slowly, and cautiously, Indy moved closer to the creature. Halfway down, the creature turned and saw him, and both of them froze. After a long moment, Indy took another step towards it, and the creature took a step back. They both froze again. Then, the creature took a step forward and Indy took a step back. They froze again. Indy noticed something on the head of the creature; a harness. Laughing nervously, he reached inside his satchel and pulled out a Heshey bar. He peeled it, and held it out. “Hungry?” With its great nostrils, the creature sniffed the air. Indy inched closer as the beast lowered its head. Slowly it moved closer to him, cautiously. Carefully, Indy lifted the bar, closer to the animal’s mouth. Suddenly Major Puller and Squad B came over the top of the next dune, spotting Indy. Wethers and Swift lifed their weapons. “Don’t feed it!” Puller shouted. Indy saw him, but ignored. The creature stuck out its massive tongue and licked the candy bar, and then Indy dropped it on the ground. It leaned down to pick it up with its teeth. Indy smiled, and moved closer, reaching out to pet it. A purring sound rumbled, and he smiled. It was as cute as hell. It nuzzled his arm. Indy turned back, yelling. “Its got a harness. Its domesticated, see?” He shook one of the reigns. Puller nodded, and signalled to the men to put down their weapons. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Indy continued to scratch it, but when he touched the creature’s ear, all hell broke loose. The creature bellowed and reared up on its hind legs, kicking out the reins and knocking Indy to the ground. He rolled over and grabbed his hat, but as he did so the creature took off running, and the reins tangled around his leg stretched tight. Puller and the men lifted their weapons, but the creature was too fast, and both it and the Doctor were out of sight in an instant. Puller grabbed Wethers’ collar “Get one of the cars, and let’s go after it!” Squad B raced over the sand to the top of the next dune, only in time to see it disappear over another hump of sand. The creature was FAST. They ran their hardest, chasing their wayward Doctor across the landscape. Indiana, meanwhile, was in a flaming blizzard of sand. He bounced and bumped across the coarse sand, abrading his whole body. He kept his eyes shut tightly, to keep the grit out, and prayed the thing wasn’t a marathoner. Fifteen minutes later, coming over yet another dune, the squad found Doctor Jones lying in a heap, with the creature standing over him. They kept their weapons trained on it as they approached from a distance. Indy spat out a mouthful of sand as the creature began to lick his face. “Yeeesh! Get your stinking breath away from me.” Another lick. “Someone help me!” Finally, the men arrived, but to his surprise they passed right by him, lowering their guns. Private Brown, still breathing hard from the run, gasped. “Holy Jesus!” Indy finished spitting out sand and stood, walking to the top and finally seeing what they saw. It was a scene out of hell. Thousands of dark skinned people filled the dune valleys below. Humans, like on Earth, but seemingly out of place and time. At the base of the huge dunes he saw gigantic mining pits; dark cavities in the sand. Dozens of ladders protruded out of the dark pits up the sides of the dunes. Covered with thick mud, their faces barely recognizable as human, dozens of workers climbed the ladders carrying heavy loads on their backs. At the top of the sand craters were women and younger workers, small children, sifting through the piles of dirt carried out of the pit. More of those large creatures were harnessed to huge carts, to carry the worker’s cargo. As they watched, a tucker car rolled up and Doctor Einstein and Lieutenant Wethers got out. They, too, were captivated by the sight of a massive slave mine. Major Puller surveyed the scene through his binoculars, and suddenly one of the workers turned and looked directly AT him. He pointed and shouted, and others started to look. “Ah hell.” Cries went up, and the workers put aside their tools to gather at the hillsides. Reacting, Private Brown began to lift his rifle, but Puller grabbed the barrel and shook his head. He signalled for the others to follow him, as he walked slowly down the hill. As they came down, the people grew quiet, almost reverent. The team cautiously made their way down the sloping hillside in the tense silence. Wind whistling through the hollow pits. The creature followed Indiana closely as they headed down the hill. Thousands of workers stood as one, all staring over at the squad as they arrived just a few yards in front of the assembled crowd. Nervously the marines smiled out at the workers who stared at them with a mixture of awe and fear. Major Puller elbowed Indy, and spoke under his breath. “Okay, Jones. It’s your turn.” Indy looked at Puller. “Me?” “Sure, you’re the expert, Try and talk to them.” Indiana had no idea what to do. Slowly he walked over, wearing a forced smile for the crowd. He stepped up close to a muddy worker. “Ah… hello.” The worker looked at him with curiosity. Suddenly a flash of reflected light glinted off of the necklace around his neck. The worker’s eyes widened, and he screamed something out, frightening our squad. All at once, the entire assembly in a wave-like chain reaction bowed down, flat, on the ground. Lieutenant Wethers whispered to Puller. “What did he say?” Puller shook his head. “I don’t know.” They take a few steps closer to Indy “What the hell did you tell them, Jones?” Indy turns back to Puller, nervous and confused. “Nothing.” “Well, try to communicate.” “HOW?!” Indy threw his hands up. He spoke a dozen languages, but alien gibberish wasn’t one of them. Frustrated Puller stepped forward. He singled out one of the workers, a young boy that looked about sixteen. The boy was absolutely terrified, and averted his eyes. Puller extended his hand, but the boy only looked at it with mounting fright. Finally, Puller grabbed the boy’s hand, shaking it. The boy screamed out in fear and bolted, faster than the creature had, until he disappears from view. Puller turned to Jones, confused. “So much for communication.” Indy shrugged.
Okay, you're writing is good. Description is just fine. Problem is... ...is this yours, or is there a novelization of the original film out there somewhere I'm unaware of? If the kid turns out to be Skara's grandpa, or Dennis the Menace or something, I'm gonna be seriously pissed at you.
Dennnis the Mennace, the hell? Of course the kid is Kasuf, Skara's father. This is fanfic. What else am I gonna do? I'm using the script as a base reference, and this part really didn't have a better way to happen than what was in the script.
Chapter 4 *Unknown Planet* A horn blared in the distance, and another beast like the one that had brought them there came riding towards them. It had a well-appointed litter on it, and the curtains were thrown back to show an old man in burgundy robes, with a kafia wrapped around his head. His eyes were wide, and Puller worried he might be about to have a heart-attck, as the man looked to be at least sixty. When the beast stopped, he scrambled out and knelt, looking at them. He began talking quickly, in seemingly reverent tones that pulled at the edges of Indy’s memory. “Is it berber?” he mused to himself. “Or maybe Chadic or Omotic? It sounds familiar, somehow…” He was brought out of his reflection when the Headman stood and motioned. “He wants us to follow him.” Indy said to Major Puller. “How can you tell?” “Because,” Indy mimicked the calling gesture. “he wants us to follow him.” “We have no idea what they want, Doctor Jones. They could be cannibals.” One of the soldiers called over to him. Indy shook his head. “I doubt it, given the numbers here. Besides, where there’s civilization there’s big stone tablets, and where there’s big stone tablets I can find the address home. Major,” He looked at Puller emploringly “if you want to get off this planet, this is gonna be our best chance.” *One Hour Later* After a flurry of radio and logistical wrangling, Indiana Jones, Albert Einstein, and many of the fine men of SMF-1 found themselves in the middle of the strangest military procession since Hannibal crossed the Alps. Thousands of the natives surrounded them, talking and laughing and pointing at the newcomers, whos’ presence apparently warranted an unscheduled holiday. Major Puller had called for support from base camp, and now the M3 car and Squad C were with them. Lieutenant Anders had been left in charge of the base camp, with the rest of the men and the other wireless, to hold the gate and be ready if Major Puller arrived “Suddenly in need of a position from which to mount a counterattack.” The Headman’s entourage kept even with the M3, which now held both doctors, Major Puller, and a gunner standing in back who kept his hands near the trigger. Of course, the effectiveness of a single automatic machine gun while surrounded by over ten thousand primitive humans with lead hammers was marginal at best. The wind whistled over the dunes, getting stronger, and the men had had to stuff handkerchiefs in their gun barrels to keep them clear. Indy was trying to listen to the various conversations, and at times he could almost convince himself he recognized some of the words. Suddenly, the convoy stopped, and the Headman motioned to Indy to come, pointing to the horizon. “Nagada” he said. Indy stood in the car, craning his neck, and over the next ridge he saw something out of the ancient world. A massive enceinte, a walled city that hugged the base of the mountains in the valley below, it was every ancient city he had ever dreamed of. He had been to Mesa Verde, Petra, Masada, and many more, but Nagada, home to over fifty thousand people, put them all to shame. As they approached the city’s massive doors (which towered forty feet high) the procession melted into the bustling throng filling the streets. Shouts of greeting and cries of celebration filled the air, and the convoy stopped in some sort of market square. The headman stepped down, and his riding creature was herded into a corral where handlers clicked soothingly to it and removed its harnesses. It was obvious to Major Puller the rest of their journey would be on foot. “Alright men, we’re on foot from here. Gage, Ricks, Johnson” he pointed at a lieutenant from squad C and two corporals with BARS, “you watch the cars. Let ‘em touch them all they want, but nobody sets a foot inside either. Warning shots are shooting to wound.” The men saluted, and stood alert. “Let’s keep walking, men. Doctor Jones,” Puller half bowed like a majordomo “after you.” Indy followed the Headman, one hand resting on his pistol. The city was impressive, stone houses on the lower levels had been built to three and even four stories with mud brick as the population grew over the years, with rickety skyways of wicker and branches connecting buildings dozens of feet off the ground. The procession moved down a narrow street and into an even larger market. There was a raised stone platform, and above it a large object hung, shrouded in coarse blankets. The old man waved his hands, and the blanket fell. “RA!” A thousand voices shouted at the sight of the gleaming, golden disk. He was astonished. It was a two-meter golden disk, polished to an almost mirrored shine. “It’s the sign of Ra, the Egyptian sun-god.” He said to O’Neill. “They must think he sent us.” “I wonder what gave him that idea, Henry.” Einstein chuckled and tugged on the medallion around Indy’s neck. A figure came running out from the crowd, relatively clean and short-haired. “Ernie!” Indy shouted. The young man was in native garb, but he still stood out like an elephant in an anthill. “Doctor Jones!” He embraced the man. “Major Puller, Sir!” he saluted his superior “Its damn good to see you, sir. After I came through I looked around a bit, and some mastadge-herders found me and brought me here.” “Mastadge?” Puller raised an eyebrow. “Yes sir, those ugly bastards they use for pack animals.” Ernest pointed back to the corral. “So you figured out how to speak their language? Excellent work, Lad.” Einstein clapped him on the shoulder. “No sir, Doctor Einstein, not really.” He shook his head. “I can say yes, and no, but I spent a day helping drive a dozen back here from the pyramid, and they’re a pretty good visual aid.” “Speaking of visual aids, this belongs to you.” Indy moved to take off the medallion, but Ernest grabbed his wrist. “Better not, Sir.” Ernest looked around. “They seem to think you’re the emissary of Ra, it wouldn’t necessarily look good for you to cast off the seal of your office on your first day.” Indy looked around at the cheering throng. “Right. Well, what do you suppose they have in mind? Does the voice of Ra have to do much paperwork?”
*Three hours later* Crude fireworks and flashpots exploded over Nagada, while below the city rocked in celebration. The men of SMF-1 sat in places of honor beneath the sign of Ra in the meeting square while trays of food snaked their way through the crowd. Succulent fruits, flatbreads, and something that smelled and hopefully tasted like cheese were put in front of the men. Lieutenant Wethers called to Indiana “Do you figure its safe to eat? I once ran into a bad batch of gumbo down in Baton Rouge that laid me out for three days.” Indy shrugged. “They’d probably be insulted if we didn’t try everything, maybe cut off our hands.” As he spoke, a large cooked lizard was set in front of him, steaming juice running down its back. It was so hideous, Indy doubted its own mother would love it. Doctor Einstein elbowed him in the ribs, and winked, the unspoken We wouldn’t want to insult them ringing in Indy’s ears. He shot Einstein and the rest of the men a withering glance as he pulled a piece out and chewed on it carefully, rolling it over on his tongue. “Tastes sorta like… chicken.” “Doctor Jones,” Major Puller called out as a serving girl filled his ceramic mug with wine. “You said that that big disk was the sign of Ra?” Indy nodded. “Then doesn’t it stand to reason that if they know one Egyptian symbol they might know more?” “Right.” Indy slid over next to where the Headman, Yasha, was sitting, and smoothed out the dust on the stone. He began to draw with one finger, sketching a quick hieroglyph. Yasha and the elders stared at it, as if it was a coiled snake. They began to talk quickly among themselves, and Indy feared he had done something wrong. He started to draw a second symbol, but Yasha waved him off, and rubbed out the writing with his hand. “What’s going on, Jones?” Major Puller was now standing. “It looks like writing is forbidden to them.” Indy sighed, and Einstein held the bridge of his nose and shook his head. At that moment, from several high towers in the city, horns began to blow. “What now?” He looked around. The men jumped to their feet and formed a ring, holding the platform as high ground. “Back to the gate, men!” Puller started to head for the vehicles as the banquet dispersed. People ducked into homes and tables and blankets vanished from the square. They darted through the alley to the vehicles, where Lieutenant Gage and his men had been eating. “Start ‘em up, Gage! We’re leaving if we have to shoot a hole in that gate.” Faster than many would consider possible, the vehicles were humming and turned around, heading for the city’s gate. Too slowly, as they approached they saw the massive timbers slam shut, and thick beams were thrown across it. Puller charged over to one of the gatekeepers and shook him “OPEN IT UP!” The man was terrified, almost frantic, but he didn’t move. Puller felt a tug on his sleeve, and shrugged it off, but a more insistent tug brought his attention to the young man from the mine, the one who had run off. He pointed to a wide ladder near the door, and began to scramble up, motioning for Puller to follow. “What the hell.” Puller followed after him. At the top they stared out across the valley, but the view was cut short by a wall of swirling blackness that was only a few miles away and approaching steadily. “It’s a sandstorm. At ease, men.” “Well, I’m certainly glad we didn’t shoot them.” Einstein chuckled. “It would appear we are here for the night.” Puller dropped down next to the men. “Can you reach Squad A?” He asked his signal man. “Trying, sir. Its hard to make out.” The man held an earphone to his head. He flipped a switch on the set that rested on a young private’s back, and the static-filled message assaulted their ears. “-jor Puller, this is Squad Leader O’Dell.” The voice was barely audible over the screaming winds. “We have been forced to abandon base camp. We **** ing to the pyr*** storm lost *** will rebro***orm. Over.” The signalman practically shouted into the pickup. “We hear you, O’Dell. We’ve got our own shelter, and we’ll call you in the morning. Watch out for aliens.” The radio switched off, and the men looked around at each other, and the crowd of natives and elders that surrounded them. “Alright, Marines, it looks like we’re bunking here tonight.” Puller looked over at Yasha “I just hope they’ve got rooms.” He looked at the headman and waved at his men, as if to say ‘We’re all yours.’ Yasha called to the back of the crowd, and a gaggle of women came out, laughing amongst themselves. They grabbed Indiana and dragged him away from the marines. “Hey, watch it, I need that!” Indy tried to protest, but there were too many. “Hey Puller, a little help?” He stopped the group and looked to the Major emploringly. Puller reached into a nearby soldier’s pack and removed a box of rubber condoms. “We don’t want to insult them, Doc!” He tossed them to Indy, who flashed a lopsided smile before he was whisked away. “Lucky bastard.”
Chapter 5<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o></o> <o> </o> *SMF-1 Base Camp, Unknown Planet*<o></o> <o> </o> The winds howled outside the massive pyramid, and inside their wails echoed like distant coyotes circling a wounded animal. Two lanterns lit up most of the room, and a sterno flame boiled a pot of water for coffee. They were on canned rations and water from home, so there was no NEED to boil, but it was better to be safe than to shit your lungs out.<o></o> <o> </o> Inside a massive stone pyramid older than human history, eighteen men of SMF-1 took their ease, laughing about the places they were still finding sand. “Ai, I just took a crap and it came back dusty!” A private Green returned from the far corner they were using to relieve themselves, until the weather cleared. Nobody wanted sandblasted parts, either. Private Green walked over to the .30 caliber mount and took his seat; in their new position, the remaining Tucker car faced the open door with its guns ready, and the M1919 was now set behind their gear packs with its field of fire covering most of the room, including the Stargate. He picked up his tray and started to finish off his meal.<o></o> <o> </o> “Hey Green! Pass the TP!” a call came from the cooking stove. Corporal Sean ‘Skyman’ Anders, one of the gunners for the Tucker car stood up and dusted the crumbs off his butternut pants. <o></o> <o> </o> “Why don’t you use your girlie mag, Skyman?” One of the men joked, as Green pitched him the bag with the roll in it. Skyman laughed too; they gave him a hard time for having brought the latest issue of ‘Astounding’ instead of some more relaxing reading material. “Laugh all you want, you bastards!” Skyman showed them the cover with the title story Lost Pyramids of Mars. “It seems maybe these might be good for something after all.”<o></o> <o> </o> They all settled a bit as Skyman left for the corner, except another pair of privates who were sent to patrol the perimeter of the room. It was practically a forest, and even in weather like this, something could sneak in and they’d never see it until it sucked out their brains or… something. A quarter of the way through the patrol, the room began to shake. The marines all jumped up and grabbed their guns, except Skyman who hastily pulled up his pants while leaning on his gun with his free hand. Near the base of the stargate, the men looked around, unsure of what to do. “Earthquake!” one <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:City><st1lace>San Francisco</st1lace></st1:City> native shouted. Their commander, however, shook his head, and pointed toward the ceiling, which was now raining dust. Over the howl of the storm they could hear a throbbing, rumbling roar which rattled their teeth and bones as it got louder. “What in God’s name is that?!” Private Green shouted.<o></o> <o> </o> “Sounds like it might be God!” a panicked corporal shot back.<o></o> <o> </o> In the middle of the ceiling, directly above their cooking fire, a hole over three meters across opened up, casting down a sinister blue light. Eight rings, similar to the stargate, but smaller, dropped down quickly, scattering the men who formed a rough horseshoe around the rings, weapons ready. The rings pulsed with a white light, and suddenly the marines weren’t alone.<o></o> <o> </o> Each creature was vaguely man-shaped, wearing some sort of banded plate armour that shimmered with a purplish hue. In their hands they held double-headed spears with rounded knobs on each end. Their heads, though, were straight from man’s collective nightmare. Each face was a cobra, spreading its hood and preparing to strike. The rings vanished as quickly as they had appeared, and the snake-men spun into a circle, backs to each-other, with their spears pointed out.<o></o> <o> </o> “Drop your weapons!” the commander shouted. <o></o> <o> </o> Without command, the spears of the snake-men seemed to split open, crackling with golden energy. “<st1:City><st1lace>Jaffa</st1lace></st1:City>, KREE!”<o></o> <o> </o> Private Green dropped to one knee and worked the action on his rifle. “Oh... FU-” was all that was heard before the room exploded in thunder and flame. Eight model 1903 <st1:City><st1lace>Springfield</st1lace></st1:City> rifles, two model 1918 Browning Automatic Rifles, and a .30 caliber model 1918 air-cooled machine gun opened fire, even as superheated balls of plasma rocketed towards them. The armor of the snake-men withstood some of the fire, but the sheer volume and punch of the bullets meant that inevitably some shots would get through. <o></o> <o> </o> The staff weapons were taking their toll, though, in the currency of missing limbs and holed torsos. In thirty short seconds, half the snake-men fell, but so did five marines. Under the heavy volume of fire, the snake-men shrank back, to the base of the gate, and the Marines thought for a moment they had them. Then, the rings fell again from the ceiling, and in a flash another twenty snake-men were there. The fighting was furious and chaotic, but soon the marines were being forced away from the gate. There were six left. <o></o> <o> </o> “Grenades!” The commander shouted, and each man tossed a grenade towards their enemy, to buy a few seconds. “Anders! Get in the gun mount!” He barked. “You three, get in and go, head west and pray to God that you find Puller, warn them about what happened.” He slapped Private Green, who had dragged the .30 caliber with him, on the shoulder. “Green and I will slow the fuckers down.” The men nodded, and crammed themselves into the car. Driving through a sandstorm might be suicide, but ten-to-one odds against space monsters with ray guns WAS suicide. <o></o> <o> </o> The commander lay on his belly, a pistol in each hand. He was wounded and bleeding out, but that couldn’t be helped. He wondered if maybe the eyes were weak. Couldn’t hurt. He peered through the smoke as Green fed a new belt into the gun. The eyes glowed, and if he could just… BLAM he saw an eye go dark. BLAM another spun away. Again, and again, while Green raked the gun back and forth, both of them were screaming. <o></o> <o> </o> They had felt the gravel kick up as the Tucker Tiger Tank sped away, and the whistle of bullets as Skyman fired the quad .50 over their heads. Slowly, the marine realized he was hitting empty chambers, and that Private Green was missing his head. He looked up, and through the smoke another snake monster strode, slowly. It levelled its staff at him and said something he didn’t understand. The lieutenant sneered. “The name’s Lieutenant Tony Evans. Remember it.” A flash of light and heat and he saw nothing more.
*Temple of Ra, Abydos* He surveyed the battle, picking over the carnage for details that his mind needed. It was a mystery. “And you say fewer than twenty were here?” He bent down and picked up a bullet casing, turning it over in his fingers. “And none are <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:City><st1lace>Jaffa</st1lace></st1:City>?”<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o></o> <o></o> “No, First Prime.” The <st1:City><st1lace>Jaffa</st1lace></st1:City> held up a colored patch, with a world bound by some sort of weapon and a bird with its wings spread. “All the Tau’ri bore this mark.” The first prime dropped the casing and held the insignia. He couldn’t make out the writing, and it didn’t seem to be the symbol of any of the System Lords. He frowned, he didn’t like not knowing, it would displease his god.<o></o> <o></o> “We will search them out in the morning, hopefully we can catch them before they reach the city. If not, it will make our job much harder, but not impossible. We WILL be ready for Ra’s army when it arrives.” He looked to the two <st1:City><st1lace>Jaffa</st1lace></st1:City>. “Check for survivors or those near death, perhaps our Lord will show one mercy to gain answers. And gather all their belongings.” <o></o> <o></o> “Yes, Master Bra’tac!”<o></o> <o></o> He watched them run, and shook his head. Such a waste, to send good men to die in an ambush that never should have existed. One day, perhaps, <st1:City><st1lace>Jaffa</st1lace></st1:City> would be free of false gods, but until then he would serve his god, Apophis, to the best of his ability. Perhaps even one day Bra’tac could forgive himself for serving such a monster.<o></o> <o></o> *Ahernabe Research Facility, <st1lace><st1:City>Hamburg</st1:City>, <st1:country-region>Germany</st1:country-region></st1lace>*<o></o> <o></o> Alfred Rosenberg was going to die. There was no question about it, they were going to put him up against a wall and shoot him. They had just begun to study the strange device brought back from <st1lace>Antarctica</st1lace> when disaster struck. Certainly the thing was fascinating. It was over seven meters across, covered in strange and unknown writings, and made of a metal previously unknown to mankind. Well, nearly unknown, because they HAD had another device, which had vanished like a whore’s looks in good lighting. <st1:City><st1lace>Rosenberg</st1lace></st1:City> nervously paced in front of the device, wringing his hands. It had been his responsibility, never mind that it was the goddamn ARMY that had lost it. He hadn’t been there. <o></o> <o></o> “Herr Doctor Rosenberg, it is good to see you!” The jovial voice of the Reichsfuhrer-SS boomed across the room. He strode confidently, followed by a man in the uniform of an SS Obersturmannfuhrer. Both men exuded energy, but while Himmler’s was forced humor and masked a deadly lethality, the other man fairly glared panzers.<o></o> <o></o> <st1:City><st1lace>Rosenberg</st1lace></st1:City> saluted. “It is an unexpected honor to have you here, sir, we have only begun to study the device-”<o></o> <o></o> “Chappa-Ai.” <st1:City><st1lace>Rosenberg</st1lace></st1:City> was startled by the dangerous man’s outburst. “Or ‘stargate’ if you prefer.” The other man spoke in a rich tenor, with a trace of an English accent.<o></o> <o></o> Himmler grinned. “Doctor Rosenberg, I don’t want you to worry about the loss of the other device. Think nothing of it, your project is back on schedule.” He stepped aside, and the other man stepped forward. “I want you to meet a new associate of the SS, Obersturmannfuhrer Temmel.”<o></o> <o></o> “Please the title is purely for show,” the man stepped forward and shook <st1:City><st1lace>Rosenberg</st1lace></st1:City>’s trembling hand, and his eyes glowed. “Call me Herr Seth.”<o></o>
Chapter 6<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o></o> <o> </o> <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:City><st1lace>Hawthorne</st1lace></st1:City> NAD, Gateroom<o></o> 20 Hours after second activation<o></o> <o> </o> Major Hanneken was quite convinced that <st1:City><st1lace>Hawthorne</st1lace></st1:City> was the fastest growing town in <st1:State><st1lace>Nevada</st1lace></st1:State>. In the last 36 hours over a thousand extra personnel had poured into the base, from engineers and electricians trying to repair the power systems to carpenters to build barracks for them. The motor-pool had tripled inside, and dozens more jeeps were parked on still-soft asphalt. Scientists and experts from around the world (physicists and Egyptologists alike) now called <st1:City><st1lace>Hawthorne</st1lace></st1:City> their home away from home. It was one of these scientists who was now seated in Major Hanneken’s spartan office.<o></o> <o> </o> “So you see, Major, my system should solve all of your power transmission problems, and prevent the sort of hazardous feedback you have been experiencing.” Seated on a wooden folding chair was a thin, elderly man who only two days ago had been sitting alone in a hotel room in <st1:City><st1lace>New York City</st1lace></st1:City>. Some of the men on the project had called him crazy, and had urged Hanneken not to bring him, but General Leslie Groves himself had called him, and a phone call from on high tended to motivate a man.<o></o> <o> </o> “I’m sorry Doctor Tesla, but I’m a military man, I’m no wizard of technology like you are. I still don’t understand how you’re going to get the power to the Stargate.” Hanneken rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I need to be sure your procedure is safe.”<o></o> <o> </o> Tesla laughed slightly. “Its not at all dangerous, Major, though I must confess I’m no wizard.” He cleared his throat three times. “Its really very simple. Imagine that the earth is a smooth, usable conductor for electricity. Now, I have a power plant here,” he placed a fingertip on a piece of paper on the desk. “And I need to get the power to here.” He placed another finger at the opposite end. “Now, to get the electricity from one end to the other, you could build wires.” He placed a pen on the paper and then moved it back and forth with the fingertips. “Or, you could simply send the power through the wave structure inherent in the earth.” He pushed aside the pencil, and simply slid the paper back and forth with his fingers.”<o></o> <o> </o> “And your devices send the power through the earth?” The Major was starting to grasp the idea.<o></o> <o> </o> The old man nodded “Exactly correct, Major. My self-regenerative wave transformer sends power safely anywhere, but you need another transformer to retrieve it. I developed it over thirty years ago after my research in <st1:State><st1lace>Colorado</st1lace></st1:State>.”<o></o> <o> </o> “But if its such a good and safe way to move power around, why do we need power lines or the TVA?”<o></o> <o> </o> Tesla sighed. “Because if power is freely available through the air and soil, Major, then there’s no way to appropriately tax people for it. Besides, would you believe the word of a man who built a shack in the desert and set up a lightning machine?”<o></o> <o> </o> Major Hanneken frowned. “Maybe not, Doctor.”<o></o> <o> </o> “At any rate, that is in the past.” Tesla stood and smoothed his coat. “Now, let’s see about turning on that Stargate of yours. Its marvellous, really, the way it transmits energy. I only wish I had more of whatever its made of.”<o></o> <o> </o> ***<o></o> <o> </o> *Nagada, Unknown Planet<o></o> <o> </o> Indy had travelled the world, and met more primitive peoples than he could count. He was an honorary Massai warrior, a full member of the Garifuna council of chiefs, and among the Wagiman of northern <st1:country-region><st1lace>Australia</st1lace></st1:country-region> he was known as “Far-Running Champion”. In Nagada, however, he was the emissary of Ra, and as he was forcibly attended to by a number of old women he had a feeling that he had a ceremonial ‘duty’ to perform. They’d taken his hat, whip, and gun, though he made sure he could see them from where he was. When they tried to take his pants, he almost hit one of them, but with their chatter and clucking of tongues he slowly found himself put in robes very similar to ancient Hittite wedding robes. <o></o> <o> </o> They filed out one by one, laughing to themselves. As soon as they left, he let out a sigh and picked up his gun, tucking it into the folds of the robe. “Better safe than sorry.” He muttered. A rustling behind him caused him to spin around, reaching for the gun, but he stopped short. Standing before him was a vision of loveliness, like one of the goddesses of the ancient world come to life. She wore a purple dress, draped around her in loose folds, with a gauzy veil adorned with polished jewels covering her face. Her feet were bare, and even at a distance Indy could smell her perfumed body. She looked afraid, though not necessarily of him. <o></o> <o> </o> Indy vaguely remembered seeing her at dinner, as one of the attendants serving Yasha. A daughter, most likely, which would make her something of a princess in her small world. Indy was pretty sure that in this society she was being offered to him, hopefully to produce a demi-god offspring as a blessing for her people. She started to undress, slowly, under Indy’s gaze, when he suddenly realized himself. “Not…” he grabbed her hand and looked into her eyes “Just a minute.” He went to the door and raised the flap. Sure enough, the village elders were waiting outside, hoping that everything went well and Ra was pleased.<o></o> <o> </o> “Right. Can’t refuse a sincere gift.” Indy remembered the story of a colleague who had refused to take a shaman’s gift of horses in outer Mongolia, and who had paid for the affront with the loss of his left hand. Sure, they might not kill Ra, but they could kill the marines. He sat down on one of the blankets, and motioned for the girl to sit next to him. He pointed to himself. “Indy.”<o></o> <o> </o> She mimicked him, pointing to herself. “Indy.”<o></o> <o> </o> Nobody gets it on the first try. He thumped his chest with his palm “Indy.”<o></o> <o> </o> A light of realization dawned in her eyes. She tapped her chest “Lishai.”<o></o> <o> </o> There was an awkward pause. She was very beautiful, but Indy wasn’t sure what would happen in the minds of these people if a god took one of their women to his bed. It could complicate things. “I… came from the Pyramid,” he mimed a sloping roof over his head. “Wait, let’s try this.” He drew a pyramid on the dirt next to them, with a ramp and walking feet coming out. Lishai reached out, and smoothed away the feet and ramp, and from one of the corners she drew a line coming out with a circle at the end.<o></o> <o> </o> “Earth!” Indy almost shouted, recognizing the symbol. He laughed, and looked at her. “You’ve seen this?” He pointed to his eyes, and to the symbol. “You’ve seen this? Take me.” He grabbed her hand and pointed away. Lishai shook her head, and pointed to the door, saying something he couldn’t understand. “Damn, forgot.” The thought of finding a way home had lifted his spirits, though, and he smiled at her, and she laughed. She leaned into him, and kissed him gently. Indy broke away, and shrugged. “What the hell, so it gets complicated. I only need one arm.”<o></o> <o> </o> ***<o></o> *Nagada, Mastadge Corral<o></o> <o> </o> Major Puller looked out at the dark, angry sky. Even in the night, he could hear and see the storm swirling overhead, scouring the rooftops of the taller buildings. He let the flap close, and turned back to the common room. Here, the marines were laughing and gesturing with Kasuf and his friends over some gambling game that involved stones that were red on one side and white on the other, and copious amounts of alcohol. The men didn’t know if they were winning or loosing, but they were all enjoying themselves, save Corporal Wethers and another unlucky private, who were on ‘sober duty’ and had their guns ready. At this point, nobody really expected a fight, but they were marines and were always on alert.<o></o> <o> </o> Private Brown gathered all the stones in a wooden box, and shook it. From his pocket, he pulled out a slightly deformed Hershey bar, warped from the heat. The boys whooped and laughed, a few had already won chocolate bars, and they were fast developing a taste. Brown spoke one of the few words he’d learned; “Koneda.” Which, as far as the marines could tell meant “Ante up.” Kasuf placed a leather pouch, two knives, and a jar of something that could almost certainly be deemed ‘contraband’ back at <st1:City><st1lace>Hawthorne</st1lace></st1:City> on the table. Brown nodded, and together they chanted “Wiyaw, sinway, hamtaw, REAKHET!” Together they overturned the box on the table, and then lifted it up.<o></o> <o> </o> The youths howled as they studied the ‘battle’ which had taken place, and apparently Brown’s red stones had sufficiently outflanked and outmaneuvered Kasuf’s white stones, carrying the field. They slapped Brown on the back, congratulating him, and drinks and flatbread with some sort of vegetable paste were passed around. Kasuf made a show of being upset, but it was all in good fun. Brown tossed the candy bar to him; he didn’t really care for chocolate, and Kasuf tried to give it back, but his own desire for sugar won out.<o></o> <o> </o> It had been several hours since <st1:State><st1lace>Indiana</st1lace></st1:State> had been taken by the women, and the marines could only joke about what sort of ‘hell’ he must be going through. By the suggestive laughs and gestures from the youths, Indy was in for an interesting (and exhausting) night. As the evening wore on, the men stretched out on mats and blankets, with two new marines relieving the two guards. <o></o> <o> </o> As the room settled down, one of the marines looked out the tent flap. In the dim light, he thought he could see two figures, a man and a woman, climb out of a window across the square and dart down a side-street. What they could be doing in weather like this was no concern of his, though he figured people must cheat on their wives or husbands no matter what side of the galaxy you were in.<o></o>
