Stargate by Dean Devlin & Roland Emmerich

Author:Dean Devlin & Roland Emmerich
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2013-09-25T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Kawalsky, Brown, and O'Neil had been taken to quarters on the far side of the same building. Each was given a separate room radiating off a common parlor. They had gathered in the parlor, the only room with windows. For thirty minutes. Brown had been working the radio equipment, trying every trick he knew to raise Feretti and the others.

O'Neil stood at one of the windows where he could see the storm beating against the huge walls that circled the city. With his back turned to the others, O'Neil was absently rolling something around between his fingers. It was the orange key he had taken from the device hidden in the bowels of the equipment cart. When the curtains covering the main entryway opened, O'Neil quickly pocketed the key. Kawalsky unholstered his pistol.

They had a visitor. It was Skaara, who was starting to make it his business to go everywhere O'Neil went. His desire to stick close to the colonel put him in a minority of one. The people of Nagada, like O'Neil's own soldiers, sensed dangerous unpredictability oozing from the man in the black beret and had tried to keep their distance. Everyone, that is, except this kid, the first person O'Neil had frightened. Now he was following him everywhere, studying his every move. As soon as he was in the room, Skaara hurried to a corner and sat down against the wall, showing he wouldn't be any trouble. Kawalsky looked at O'Neil, who nodded that it was okay for the boy to stay.

During the banquet, O'Neil had noticed the teenager sitting in the shadows, watching. And that's what he was doing right now.

O'Neil left Brown and Kawalsky, walking into his private chamber where he sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs. The boy, afraid but determined to act fearlessly, came into the room and sat down a few feet away.

O'Neil, ignoring the kid, took a cigarette out of his pack and lit it. When the flame shot out of the lighter, the boy nearly jumped out of his skin. Nevertheless, when he'd caught his breath, he reached over and pulled a cigarette out of O'Neil's pack, mimicking the colonel's movements, pretending to smoke.

"Lighter," O'Neil pronounced the word carefully, then tossed the Zippo to Skaara. The boy lit the thing several times, fascinated, before clumsily lighting the end of his cigarette. Casting a sidelong glance at the boy, O'Neil flicked the ash from his cigarette. Skaara did the same.

The two of them sat there for a moment. Skaara was starting to feel pretty damn confident. He was, after all, the only one hanging out with these remarkable visitors. O'Neil saw the boy's cockiness and couldn't resist. He took a long drag on his cigarette then inhaled deeply. With a wise-guy smirk on his face, Skaara went through the same motion, but the split second the hot smoke reached his lungs, his eyes bulged wide-open. He came up gagging. He doubled over and staggered across the room until he crashed into the bed, the fire in his throat and nose getting worse as he coughed.

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