Chapter 10

Jul 11, 2007 15:00

In today's installment, Teal'c plays detective, as Sam and Jeremiah enter the lion's den.



March 20

The night had been cold. But as the sun rose, the frost melted, and Sam began to feel optimistic about finding Seth. The colonel had made coffee, and for breakfast they ate some of the MRE's from the packs.

They broke camp. After a short drive, Jeremiah pulled off on a dirt road. They hid the jeep under the camo net and continued on foot. After traversing several cornfields, trudging through mud and stones, they came to a tall fence. Inside, there was a vast, flat field -- what had probably once been a manicured lawn and playing fields, if the one rusted baseball backstop was anything to go by. About a thousand feet inside the fence was a sprawling complex. The central portion was six stories high. Off to each side the building branched out to form a totally enclosed courtyard. To the north, a large barn or shed had been erected.

"It looks like a prison," Sam observed aloud.

Jeremiah muttered, "An occupied prison." He gestured against the fence. "It's all been cut."

She nodded. He was right. Not only had the grass been cut, but it had all been trampled flat closer to the building.

"It's a correctional facility for minors," O'Neill corrected. "It was called Industry. Sarah taught here while I was stationed at Leavenworth."

Sam asked, wishing he'd mentioned this before, "You were at Leavenworth?"

"Only a year," he replied then looked back across the large yard. "I can understand why Seth would choose this place. Not only does it have bedrooms and kitchens, but it also has bars on the windows and heavy-duty locks. Seth would look for someplace secure but with all the comforts of home."

"So, you're sure this is the place we're looking for?" Jeremiah asked, doubtfully.

"Well, it agrees with my data," Sam acknowledged as she gazed at her notes.

"I don't have bolt cutters, so how are we going to get in?" Jeremiah asked as he gave a few tugs on the heavy-duty fence.

The colonel pulled out a pair of binoculars and looked around. "I don't see any guards or cameras, but I don't like this open field. No place to hide or run if we're seen."

"Can't we pretend to be converts?" Jeremiah asked, "and just walk in?"

Sam exchanged a glance with O'Neill. "It won't be easy," she reflected. "Seth can feel me, as I can feel him."

"He's got this nasty drug that makes you love and worship him," O'Neill added, giving an exaggerated shudder for Jeremiah's benefit.

"But a zat blast destroys the drug's effect," Sam countered. "Plus, in this reality, these kids have no place to go. They may not need the drug to stay."

"You and Jeremiah waltz in," O'Neill thought aloud. "Seth zaps you or not, depending on how convincing you are and how suspicious a bastard he is. You radio me if you're safe, if not, I bust in and zat everyone I can see. I'll get caught, but you'll rescue me." O'Neill looked at Sam as he rattled off the plan. "While we're in, we search for naquadah. Piece of cake."

Sam smiled at the audacity of the "plan" but since it matched pretty well with her own, she didn't say anything.

Jeremiah snorted in disbelief but he went along with a shrug. Sam had the feeling he'd done things just as spontaneously.

They back-tracked to the hedgerow, at the edge of the last field they had crossed. She took off her pack and began rummaging through it.

"What are you looking for?" Jeremiah asked, curiously.

"We have small communication devices that fit in our ear. We can't take any of my gear inside the compound so the only thing I can use to keep in contact with the colonel is the small radio." Her hand came out clutching something. She slid the small device in her ear. "Can you hear me, colonel?"

O'Neill laughed. "Loud and clear, Carter."

"I meant on your radio." she replied, exasperated.

"There, too." While she was putting her pack in order again, he added thoughtfully, "Back in our reality, Seth had escape tunnels. Didn't Teal'c say that it's a requirement of all paranoid, megalomaniac Goa'ulds? What do you want to bet Seth's got one here?"

She stood up, feeling a little more enthusiastic about this plan. "Maybe we can even use it to get out. The last time he had a ring transporter from his throne room to his escape tunnel. We'll have to look for one."

"They are creatures of habit." O'Neill bent closer to Jeremiah, warning, "And I mean 'creatures' in the nastiest way possible."

"Come on," Sam urged, tugging on Jeremiah's arm, before the colonel succeeded in frightening the guy too much. "Let's go knock on the front door."

---+---

Jack felt Charlie poke him in the side. "Get up, we've got company."

Jack rose, his back aching from the deformed cot. He glanced over at Chen who was up and alert, showing no ill effects from the bumpy cot. Oh, to be young, Jack moaned to himself

The door was open, and outside Murray was talking to the young guard. Did the poor kid have to do sentry duty all night? Did they think two old men could break through solid steel bars? Or maybe it was Lee they were worried about, seeing as he had been chief of security.

Murray regally nodded, then entered, closing the door behind him. Jack heard the lock click into place. The large man's face was passive, but Jack could detect a hardness that had been absent the day before. "Something happen?" he asked, watching closely.

"Yes," Murray answered, but turned his attention to Lee. "A girl has been killed. Despite attempts to make it appear an accident, it was clearly murder."

"Who?" Lee asked, his voice cracked.

"Kristen. I believe she is the sister of a council member," Murray responded.

Lee collapsed onto his cot. "Kate," he whispered.

"You were correct when you mentioned the possibility of another spy within Cheyenne Mountain."

Jack stiffened. Cheyenne Mountain? Seemed strange to hear it called that again. He filed it away to consider later, for now he needed to know what had happened.

"I didn't want to be right," Lee said without any sarcasm. "What do you want me to do?"

"Erin Gant is of the belief that while you cannot be fully trusted, you may be of help in identifying the person responsible."

Jack started to think. The probability of Lee knowing the identity of this mysterious agent was remote. Wouldn't he have already seen and identified him? Simmons was much too crafty to put someone here who Lee would recognize. But Jack might. He'd spent time outside Valhalla Sector, in their various towns and bases. Did he want to help Thunder Mountain? Work against his home? Was Valhalla Sector his home, or just a place to sleep because the world had died?

Jack fidgeted on the cot, reluctant to make a decision.

"Have the cameras been turned off?" Murray inquired of Lee.

"How would I know? I got thrown in here, before I could do anything."

Murray didn't react to the bitter comment. "Were all of them operational?"

"No. When they broke I didn't do anything to fix them. It was hard to ask for help when they weren't supposed to be working in the first place, and I didn't know how to do it myself."

Murray nodded once, accepting the explanation. "Erin Gant is perusing personnel files hoping for inspiration, but I believe the cameras will give a more definitive answer. Do you think you would recognize this other agent?"

Jack winced, knowing how that comment would cut Lee. Even he felt its sting. He almost felt guilty for being from Valhalla, yet what choice did he have? The military stuck together, yet he couldn't condone the killing of innocent kids. It was just wrong.

"Are you going to let me go through the tapes?" Lee asked. "Where did it happen?"

"Level 24. Corridor 3B. Her body was found yesterday at 1:30 in the afternoon."

"How come you're coming to me so late?" Lee demanded, going to the front of his cell.

"I have gone through the tapes myself, but could not find one to represent the area in question. It now makes sense if that particular camera is broken."

"So, she was found just a few hours after Markus left," Jack interjected, making everyone look at him. "What if she heard the spy tell Valhalla he was going to leave? It would be something Simmons and the general would want to know immediately."

Murray gave him that regal nod. "That would be a likely explanation; however, Markus Alexander isolated the communications system at 0200 the night before."

"Oh." Jack thought about it some more then shrugged. "The spy might not have known that and tried anyway."

Jack began to think he should have kept his mouth quiet as Murray stared at him. The big man didn't blink, didn't move, just kept up that same steady stare. Jack began to get nervous. Could Murray really read his mind and was waiting for Jack to volunteer to help?

The tension mounted in the room, until even Lee began to feel it.

"What?" Lee asked, puzzled. "Will you let me help?" he asked again.

"If you recognized someone walking around from Valhalla, you'd have said something before, wouldn't you, Chen?" Kawalsky asked, echoing Jack's earlier thought.

Lee nodded, and grasped the bars in front of him. "But I'd know if people are where they should be. I could still help," he looked up at Murray. "C'mon, this is the sort of thing you need me for."

"You will have your chance to prove your loyalties, Lee Chen," Murray said. Jack wasn't sure if it was a promise or a threat coming from that calm, deep voice.

Kawalsky persisted in his original idea, "We might be able to identify the other spy. If he's from Valhalla or Millhaven, and especially if he's in the military, we'd recognize him. I'd be willing to take a look."

Murray inclined his head. "Thank you, Major Kawalsky, for your offer. I never had the chance to get to know you, but your deep friendship with O'Neill speaks highly of your courage and honor."

Jack almost choked at the unexpected compliment. Charlie did gag, then laughed. Jack smacked him hard on the back.

Murray ignored their antics. "I will clear this with Erin Gant first. Then I will return." He knocked on the outer door and the sentry let him out.

---+---

Sam and Jeremiah halted. Up ahead they could see a driveway and a guardhouse for the gate. There were two men, both armed, standing just outside. The fence line here was closer to the large building, but not enough to be able to make it to the structure unseen. The lack of cover was frustrating, but not unexpected. She signaled to the colonel. "We're here."

"'Bout time," he replied. "I'm watching you from here. Keep the mic on and I'll listen as you make contact."

"Roger." She turned and began walking toward the guards.

"Let me do the talking," Jeremiah insisted as walked beside her. "As soon as you open your mouth they'll know you're different."

Sam was reluctant to agree. Jeremiah might know the times, but he knew nothing of the Goa'uld.

He added, "And when they ask you your name, don't mention your last name. No one on the outside uses two names. Some of us remember them, but Markus is the only person I know who uses it."

"What about Lee Chen?"

"He's a spy, so he doesn't count."

She gave in, realizing he was right. She would have given her last name too, and that was the sort of mis-step that could get them both killed. Better to act young and stupid, and let Jeremiah talk.

"Halt!" the guard shouted, jogging up to them as they approached.

"We've been walking forever," Jeremiah told them, sounding very weary. "I hope you're the ones we're looking for."

The second guard joined the first and both looked unconvinced.

Jeremiah continued, not seeming fazed by their belligerence. "We were down south and met this guy Simon. He told us he knew a woman in Deer Springs who talked of this place, and of a beautiful, wonderful leader who was able to feed and keep everyone safe. My sister Sam," he pointed to her, "said we ought to try and find it. We lost our home about two years ago to a bunch of skinheads. We had cows and chickens, and lived pretty good. But now... we don't know where else to go."

The guards noticeably relaxed. "Our lord welcomes true believers and he demands total commitment to his ideals. What's your name?"

"Jeremiah."

"Let me radio the office. Seth will send out an escort."

Sam only let a little of her elation show on her face. This was Seth's compound; now they only needed to find the naquadah.

"Sam, this is going to be our new home," Jeremiah told her with a condescending tone and a straight face. He was talking to her as if she didn't have a brain in her head. Part of her wanted to straighten him out, but the soldier part understood that having these people underestimate her abilities would work in their favor.

"Do you have apples?" she asked the guards, playing up her part.

They smiled at her. One used the radio and the other answered her, "Yes, we have many kinds of food. Are you hungry?"

Sam made her eyes grow round. "Oh, yes." And she was. Breakfast had been hours ago.

The guards led them through the gate, where they waited for their transportation. Sam watched the guards, noting their weapons, and wondered how she could explain her naquadah signature. Maybe a Goa'uld attack. Seth might be worried if he believed she had been infected by another Goa'uld. She could even mention Ra. It would certainly entertain her, and probably frighten him.

Finally a surprisingly clean, white pickup truck came rumbling down the long driveway. The back had several bales of straw. The front bench seat held two men. Looked like she and Jeremiah would be riding with the straw.

Jeremiah helped her up into the back and both sat down. Sam clutched her small radio in her hand, knowing the colonel was hearing everything that was said.

Once they arrived at the front door, the guard from the passenger side got out and helped them out of the back. The driver drove on, either to park or on another errand.

"Come with me. My name is William."

Sam estimated William to be around twenty-five. He had large muscles, a deep tan, and callused hands. No soft life for him.

The big door opened and inside there were more men, also armed, and not looking pleased to see them.

Sam and Jeremiah were escorted up several flights of stairs to a community shower.

Sam balked at the door. "What is this?"

"You must clean yourself and wear our lord's clothes," William explained. "He will not keep company with filth."

Sam and Jeremiah exchanged a glance, and with a half-shrug, Jeremiah pulled his shirt over his head. More reluctantly Sam followed suit. At first she held the ear-piece in her hand, but it would be impossible to hold it and wash without its being seen. So, faking a cough, she put it in her mouth and hoped it would survive.

The guards didn't look away. She turned her back as much as she could, but washing was still totally embarrassing with the guards watching, and in front of Jeremiah. But at least Jeremiah wasn't leering.

Sam's new outfit consisted solely of a dress. It was beige in color, cotton, floor-length, and shapeless, except for the fabric belt she tied around her waist. No underwear and no shoes. She tried to put her underwear back on, but it was already taken away. She hoped they were going to burn it, not take it to show Seth.

Last she spat out the radio and dropped it down her open neck to lodge at her waist. At least the utilitarian clothes made hiding the radio easier.

Jeremiah had on a T-shirt, work pants. She was jealous that he got to keep his boots.

The guards escorted them to Seth.

The Goa'uld's quarters were opulent, but relatively small. Oriental rugs were placed strategically on a hard-wood floor. Paintings of the Old West, of Indians and cowboys, with buffaloes on the run, decorated the walls, but she sensed no ring platform.

"Come in, my children. Welcome."

The modulated tones of a Goa'uld sent a reflexive shiver down her back, as she lifted her gaze.

He appeared to be reading to several children clustered at his feet, and petting a cat curled on his lap. He was a different host than she had seen before. This one was younger, though still old enough to have survived the Big Death. His black hair was cut short and he was clean-shaven, the better to show off his classically carved features. He also had the most penetrating black eyes she'd ever seen.

She had to swallow. This host was definitely better-looking, with that same magnetism that the Goa'uld could wield so effortlessly if they chose. Her gaze threatened to stray, to check the fit of his shirt and pants, and she kept focused on his face, appalled by her own reaction.

He was a Goa'uld. His host might be attractive, but the being within would squash her in an instant without any remorse.

He slowly bookmarked his place and closed the book, pushing the cat off. The children groaned good-naturedly, but he assured them he'd continue in a few moments.

Sam took that as a good omen. He wasn't planning on an in-depth grilling. Jeremiah took her hand and led them toward Seth. "We wish to join your home," Jeremiah spoke out, sounding convincing.

Seth barely glanced at Jeremiah. His gaze zeroed in on Sam, as he must have felt the naquadah in her blood.

"Come here, girl," he ordered, his body language telegraphing his unease. He was wearing a ribbon device on his left hand, and it glittered as he gestured her nearer.

Taking a deep breath, and emptying her mind of everything except her cover story, she gave him a tentative smile and knelt before him. "Yes, sir?" Sam inquired with an innocent gaze.

"You are older then the rest."

"Yes. I didn't die," Sam answered simply.

He prompted, "And how is it you lived?"

"When the Big Death came, our city was attacked by men in armor. They came and," Sam shuddered, "took me and put a snake in me. I was smart, but he did something, to make me behave, he said. I wasn't good. I thought he was the Big Death, cause they killed mommy and daddy. Then everyone was dead, except me and Jeremiah. I was so afraid…" Jeremiah put a hand on her shoulder and she leaned into him gratefully, huddling under his arm and trying to look pathetic and dumb.

"What was the name of the one who took you?"

"Tanith," Sam replied. "But he's dead now. Ra didn't like him." Sam took pleasure in the shudder that went through Seth. She gave him just enough fact to make her lie convincing. Maybe he wouldn't use the nishta on them.

"Who was Tanith loyal to?"

Sam wasn't sure an answer would help or hinder their position. But he kept staring at her. He leaned forward and placed a hand on her head to stroke her hair, as if trying to coax an answer from her, but Sam wasn't fooled. She used every ounce of self-control to keep her revulsion hidden.

"Tell me!" he commanded again, his hand tightening on her hair, pulling it sharply.

"I don't know. Ra didn't trust him. Sometimes at night, he made me go outside and talk into this silver ball called Apophis."

Seth let go of her hair and sat back once more. "William, see that they are given a room. And Sam, you shouldn't hate Tanith so much, he saved your life. If he hadn't joined with you, you would be dead."

Sam swallowed thickly. Some of her feelings had leaked through despite trying to suppress them.

"Wait, Sam," he called as they reached the door. "Can you tell me where they are now?"

She tried to hide her confusion. But, without success, so she decided to use it. "I don't know," she said truthfully. "They took everything and left. It was a long time ago."

"Why didn't Ra keep you and Jeremiah?"

"Jeremiah hid. They didn't know about him. Ra wanted Tanith dead. I was left for dead. But Tanith came out, when he saw Jeremiah come up to me. He didn't notice Sandy, our dog. Tanith attacked Jeremiah, but Sandy caught it and ate it." She hid a smile when she saw Seth twitch at a symbiote being a dog's lunch. Too bad there were no dogs here, just the black cat who had curled up by the hearth.

"We will talk again," he promised ominously. "You may go."

William led them out of the room and down a maze of halls. As they passed a window, Sam looked out and saw rows of men doing marching drills in the central courtyard. It reminded her of the Academy. These men were going through a similar regimen.

Jeremiah noticed that she had stopped. William looked out and explained. "Seth is very patient. There are heathens outside our walls that don't understand that Seth is our god. Some attack us for our resources; these we crush instantly. But, in the future, when there are more of us, we will spread the word of Seth so all will understand and it will unite the country, and then the world," he said with a fanatical look to his eye.

Jeremiah looked out at the men training then turned to William. "There's not enough men to--"

"That is why we must all be patient. It may not happen in our lifetime, but Seth will live on and show the new generations the way."

"Is that the reason his voice sounds so weird, 'cause he's a god?" Jeremiah asked.

"His voice is strong, powerful. You shouldn't expect a god to sound like us. He is also much stronger and he never grows old. He has looked the same since the Big Death."

Sam could see Jeremiah shudder. He hadn't really believed her briefing yesterday on the evil of the Goa'uld, but now he was beginning to understand.

William gave them a smile and headed again down the hall to their room. At least they wouldn't be split up.

"Am I going to have to train?"

"Not yet. You must prove yourself worthy first. Only the most devote can serve."

Sam met Jeremiah's eyes, hoping to convey support and assurance that they would get out of here alive.

"Here is your room, Jeremiah," William announced, stopping and opening a door. "Sam will share with you," he added giving her a close look. "For now."

Sam felt uneasy under his appraisal. What was he looking for?

William walked over to a closet. "There are more clothes inside. The bathroom is down the hall; you'll find towels, soap and brushes. You are to keep yourself clean." He motioned to Jeremiah. "You come with me. We'll see what chores you're fit to do. Sam, Sherry will come for you shortly and take you down to the kitchen. They'll find a job for you there."

Sam nodded meekly as they left. There wouldn't be much time, so she tried the radio. Luckily it still worked, so she let the colonel know that they were all right, had successfully met Seth and were still nishta free.

---+---

Jack lowered his binoculars, relieved after Carter's last call in. It was a miracle that the receiver worked inside. He had worried that the thick walls would prevent the signal from traveling through it.

Jack dusted his pants and went to hide their packs more securely. If he was going to be hiking all day looking for an escape hatch, he wasn't going to lug all their stuff with him. Going back to the edge of the field, he maneuvered the packs under some rocks and strategically placed broken branches and dead corn stalks to help disguise the mound.

As Jack positioned the last stalk, he realized that the field had actually been in use during the past summer. Was Seth the one planting? It made Jack begin thinking about what it was really like for these kids to grow up without parents, without the conveniences of home--like a grocery store--and survive. How did they do it?

With a deep sigh, he made himself forget their hardships and begin thinking about the current mission. He had to concentrate on finding a way into the Goa'uld stronghold. Sara had taught at the school, and while he hadn't gone inside, he did remember her telling him about a huge walk-in fridge and pantry located in the basement, directly beneath the kitchen. There was even a dumb-waiter so they could transport the food up faster to be cooked. The kitchen had to be on the ground floor somewhere. But, was it in the main part or in one of the other sides of the big square?

If he could locate the kitchen, then he'd know where the basement was, and he bet dollars to donuts there was a tunnel leading out from there.

---+---

Teal'c obtained permission from Erin to bring one of the prisoners to the security room. So, now on his way back to the brig, Teal'c had to decide which man to take. Kawalsky had volunteered, but Teal'c instinctively trusted O'Neill more. Teal'c halted his thoughts. This was not his O'Neill; he shouldn't trust him at all. He would bring Major Kawalsky. Assured that he had made the correct decision, he strode purposefully down the hall, causing his newly appointed guard to jog in order to keep up with him.

Kawalsky was sitting on the floor trying to catch the ball as O'Neill bounced it over his head. Both stiffened and Kawalsky rose as Teal'c entered.

"Erin Gant has given me permission to bring one of you to the security room to view the tapes. Major Kawalsky, since you volunteered, I have selected you."

The guard opened the door, and Teal'c waited for O'Neill to try and break out, but he stayed still. Teal'c gave him a nod and escorted Kawalsky out.

"So what exactly do you want me to do?" the major asked as they left the brig and headed down the hall.

"Thunder Mountain has surveillance cameras set up in different areas. Lee Chen has said that some work while others do not. I have organized the tapes that were recorded yesterday and we shall watch them. If you recognize anyone, please identify them."

Teal'c wasn't sure if Major Kawalsky would tell him the truth, but even a slight reaction might be enough for Teal'c to begin his investigation.

When they entered, Teal'c opened the door and ushered the major in.

"How long have you been at Thunder Mountain?" Kawalsky asked, as Teal'c booted up the first tape.

"Several days. I have been most impressed with Markus Alexander. Many in power become corrupt even when they begin with an honorable ideal. He has not."

Kawalsky slid into the chair next to Teal'c. "Right, the false god lecture."

Teal'c's eyebrow rose, but he declined to comment. The first tape began and both men turned to view it, although Teal'c kept most of his attention on Kawalsky. It was the speech Markus had given before leaving. Teal'c purposely had picked this one, because he was interested in the other man's reaction. If he was pretending compliance and intended trickery, boredom or hostility would be evident. As the tape continued, Kawalsky sat straighter in his chair, his body completely stationary, listening and watching.

"You need to peruse the audience," Teal'c gently reminded, not at all upset that Kawalsky had forgotten their purpose.

"Right," he responded, his body relaxing, his eyes moving over the screen.

The speech ended and people began milling about. "Do you recognize anyone?"

"No. Sorry."

Teal'c put in the next tape. This one was in a hall, near where the population had emptied after the speech. In the SGC, the camera showed the blast doors, ready to close in case of an unwelcome intruder.

"Wait, stop the tape!" Kawalsky commanded.

Teal's stopped and started it again.

Kawalsky pointed. "Look at the time stamp. Markus is still talking, but there's someone leaving. The person is too far away from the camera, but why would anyone leave while he's still talking? No one's noticed. If you look at the people he's passing, they don't even acknowledge his presence. No smile, no puzzled look."

Teal'c indeed saw the same thing. "He is known to those around him."

"Yeah, but not well. They'd smile at him if he were their friend. Go back to the beginning, see if he's standing with someone."

Teal'c complied, but from their view, it appeared that the man was alone. His face was not shown clearly, for another person stood between him and the camera's view. Yet, it was clear that he was in his twenties, fair skinned, brown hair, and relatively tall. When he turned to leave, his back was presented to the camera, so even if Teal'c were able to enhance the tape, it would not yield any more information.

"Now, I'm not saying that this is the guy, but his leaving is suspicious."

"I concur. We will continue watching and see if a better view presents itself."

After three more tapes, they were no closer to learning the identity of the murderer than before.

"Sorry, I couldn't help more," Kawalsky sounded sincerely regretful.

"I will show what you have pointed out to Erin Gant. She may recognize him or those around him. They may be able to remember who the man is."

"So, it's back to prison for me?"

"Yes. If there is an agent here from Valhalla Sector, and they recognize you, there is a chance you may…" Teal'c paused as another thought hit him, "be in danger," he finished slowly. There was no doubt that the agent had seen O'Neill, Colonel O'Neill. Was it possible he would try to contact these two, or would he prefer to silence them instead?

---+---

William left Jeremiah in the hall, in the presence of two strapping guards. Jeremiah tried conversation but was met with stony silence. They wouldn't even dignify him with a look. Soon another man came to the hall and escorted him outside. They were on the opposite side to the one where they had first approached, but Jeremiah prevented himself from looking around for Jack.

"Can you paint?" the man asked as they walked across the lawn.

"A picture?" has asked incredulously.

"No, the shed. We can't spare the people now, for they're getting the seeds ready for planting. But, the paint is peeling, and we have many cans of paint stored."

Inside the shed was a workbench with numerous tools, both garden and mechanical, hanging on the walls. Several shelving units were against the wall, and on one were over a dozen cans of white paint. Several brushes of various sizes were next to the cans.

"No problem," Jeremiah answered. "This I can handle."

He was rewarded with a smile. "Then I'll leave you to it."

Jeremiah went back outside to see how dirty the building's sides were, and was surprised to see that they had been sanded and cleaned. A young boy, no more than nine, stood waiting to be noticed.

"Hello, I'm Jeremiah," he said to the boy.

"I'm Fetch. It's my job to run into the house and get you something to drink or eat as you work."

"Isn't Fetch your job, not your name?"

The boy scratched his head. "Nobody ever called me anything else."

"Well, Fetch, I'd love some help. Come on in."

They entered the shed and Jeremiah brought down one of the cans of paint and a brush. "Can you carry these outside while I get the ladder and find a stirrer?"

"Sure can, Jeremiah." The boy eagerly took the can, struggling a bit with the weight, but proudly half-dragged it outside.

Jeremiah found the ladder, and realized there were strange markings on the floor. Most of it was covered with rags and some straw, but they looked like concentric circles drawn onto the cement floor. A shiver of distaste ran down his back as he imagined sacrifices to Seth or some other creepy ritual being performed out here. Maybe staying inside the shed wasn't the greatest idea, as he quickly walked out. The sunlight was better.

Soon the boy's chatter and the rhythmic motion of painting made him forget about the eerie thoughts he had had inside. Fetch never stopped talking. He described the old cow, that continually broke the fence and he was always the one who had to "fetch" her. His most interesting topic was Seth.

"Seth loves all us kids. We get to eat with him and during worship, he likes us to be around his feet. The girls are all ga-ga over him, waiting for their turn in his bed."

"What?" Jeremiah asked, startled.

"He loves us all, so we have to take turns. But at night, only the females get to sleep with him. Girls have to be fourteen, and until then, they're treated the same as us boys. But after dinner, the older girls have to give him his bath and then he chooses which one gets to stay. The others come out and get to pick where they get to sleep. None of the girls have their own room, only us boys," he said proudly. "But they get to pick where they want to sleep each night. Sometimes they're boring and stay in the same room, night after night, but usually they change."

"And the kids?"

"We have our own room, where we share. Seth says it's a life long pajama party. Do you know what a pajama is?"

"They were the clothes you wore when you went to bed."

"Oh. We don't wear clothes to bed. They're dirty and only clean bodies get in the sheets. It's a rule. We all bathe before bed. Cleanliness is next to godliness. That's what Seth says."

"Is he a god?"

"Of course," Fetch answered very earnestly. "He doesn't grow old and he's the smartest one of all. And the girls say he's gorgeous."

"What about your mother?"

"Mother? What's that?"

Jeremiah was shocked. "You know. The woman who gave birth to you."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know. We all take care of each other. The women take care of all kids. Not just one."

"What about a father?"

"Seth is our father."

Jeremiah hoped he couldn't take that literally. There had to be a hundred kids running around. He'd heard babies crying, and seen more than a handful of heavily pregnant women at lunch. How could Seth be the father of all if the women were sleeping with whoever took their fancy?

He remembered what William had said about building Seth's power and he got very cold, despite the bright sun.

Seth was breeding an army.

INDEX and Chapter 11 (coming July 18)
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