Permafrost (Stargate SG-1, Novella)
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A week before Christmas, Dr. Daniel Jackson discovers that archaeologists in Iceland are excavating a Norse burial site that might have connections to the recently encountered Asgard race.
Concerned about what they might uncover, Daniel persuades General Hammond to let SG-1 travel to Iceland – much to the annoyance of the field archaeologists. But as the weather closes in, tensions build at the remote dig site and it becomes apparent that the archaeologists are hiding something...
In the frozen night of an arctic winter, Colonel Jack O’Neill and his team must battle to contain a nightmare from the past that threatens the future of the entire human race.
lifted an eyebrow, but Jack interpreted it as, Your call. Lowering his weapon, Jack said, “Hey, Monroe, whatcha got?” He didn’t respond. Jack’s finger moved to the trigger. “Hey, Monroe!” He turned then, looking at them from behind his mirrored sunglasses. “Found something?” Jack said, still not getting any closer. Monroe nodded. “What?” Jack stepped closer, but not too close, as Monroe stood up to reveal the body of a man lying in the snow. A very old, very dead man with the remains of a
shouted at the creature. “Over here!” It didn’t respond, its attention fixed entirely on Sam. She felt her skin crawl, her heart racing with the unnatural panic the thing seemed to breed. Her palms were sweaty, but she kept the gun leveled. A brief glance past the creature showed her Daniel, his weapon aimed at the back of the thing’s head. He nodded, Sam dropped, and Daniel fired two shots in quick succession. The creature stumbled forward, roared a gasping, wet roar and turned back toward
and the snow toward his friends and their unknown assailant. They’d barricaded the door and pulled the storm shutters over the windows. Outside, they could still hear Monroe – what had once been Monroe – prowling around the hut, its howls louder than the howling wind. Sam hovered close to the window, watching through a gap in the shutters, while Gordon sat on the sofa, ashen-faced and shaking. He hadn’t said a word since Daniel and Sam had barreled back into the hut and slammed the door, only
of all headaches. Don’t be cryptic.” “Sorry sir. I mean the Asgard device in the long barrow. Whatever this is, they designed that device to contain it. Right, Daniel?” “Um, yes,” he said. “That’s certainly what the Asgard narrative implies. Frejya – the goddess – bound the draugr in its grave to keep it from plaguing the village of Helgatofta.” “So,” Sam said, “all we need to do is get the device working again.” She hesitated, thinking it through. “And, of course, we need to lure both Monroe
be anything dangerous out there,” Daniel said, from where he sat bundled up in his parka and waiting near the door. He looked hot, a little sweat beading on his forehead. The heating in this place was fierce. “But there had to be a reason the Asg—” He cleared his throat, lowered his voice. “That our friends left a warning behind.” “Whatever the reason,” the colonel said, “let’s hope it’s long gone.” Sam couldn’t help thinking that, if any of them really believed that, they’d still be in