The Morpheus Factor by Ashley McConnell

Author:Ashley McConnell [McConnell, Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction, cookie429, Extratorrents, Kat
ISBN: 9780451458162
Publisher: Roc
Published: 2001-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

This time, at least, O’Neill reacted as expected. The colonel woke abruptly and completely, grabbing Jackson by the ankle and pulling him down, twisting to bring himself up to deliver an elbow strike to the throat.

“Awk!” Jackson could only raise his hands in a futile effort to ward off the blow, but by that time, O’Neill had recognized him and let him go, falling back to a sitting position and holding his head in his hands.

Daniel lay quivering. He was going to have a breakdown after this mission, he promised himself. He’d worked hard for it, he’d earned it, and nobody was going to take it away from him. And he was damned if he was going to be killed twice on the same day.

“Uh, sorry about that,” O’Neill said, looking up at last.

“Hey, no problem.” The archaeologist sat up and brushed himself off. He could still smell the odor of decay and Scotch whiskey on his clothing, and he gagged.

“Are you okay?” O’Neill asked at once.

Jackson raised a hand to reassure him and fend off any misplaced sympathies. As he did so, O’Neill took a puzzled sniff. “That’s whiskey,” he said. “Where’d you get it?” And then, startled, he looked around and up at the position of the sun in the sky. “Don’t tell me we fell asleep again!”

“I think we’d better talk,” Jackson said, finally recovering a measure of his mental equilibrium. “All of us. Now.”

Since Jackson made no move to implement his own suggestion, O’Neill aroused the others. Carter and Teal’C were equally startled and dismayed to discover they had been sleeping in the middle of the day—indeed, in the middle of the picnic—and once again they took a thorough inventory of their weapons and supplies, only to find, once again, nothing missing at all.

When they were all gathered in a circle in the sunlight at the cave entrance, O’Neill raised an expectant eyebrow. “Okay, you’ve got the floor, Daniel. Do you have some idea what’s going on? Other than this being the most restful damn mission we’ve ever been on.”

“It’s the dreams,” he began, then stopped, trying to figure out how to go on. His audience leaned forward intently.

“I thought I was awake, but maybe I wasn’t,” he said. There was still a raw place on his inner lip though, and it still hurt. He exhaled sharply. “I’m not sure it matters.

“I had a dream. Woke me up. At least I thought it woke me up. So I got up—I have no idea how long ago—and thought I’d go get some fresh air.” He waved one hand vaguely at the remains of the food, still piled on the picnic mat. It was now attracting the local flies. “At least I thought I was going for a little walk.” He swallowed hard and stretched his neck, staring at the empty ceiling overhead, not wanting to meet his teammates’ eyes. “I stepped out of this clearing and I was on a beach. Gorgeous place, with white sand and palm trees and blue skies.

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