Sure. Just your average commuter trip to the next star system.
The mere existence of the Stargate had exploded all the walls of logic she'd carefully constructed, all the academic safeguards she'd instilled in her thinking. It was only through her childhood defenses, the abilities she'd developed to hide her reactions to the bizarre and unthinkable that lurked in people's thoughts, that she'd been able to contain an almost primal need to scream. Nothing she'd ever witnessed-no gruesome crime scene, no rummaging around in the mind of a madman-had ever left her so traumatized that she'd locked up inside and been unable to speak… until the next shocking realization that Atlantis and indeed the entire Pegasus Galaxy were not metaphysical constructs of some cultists' minds, but real, tangible places.
But the bombshells hadn't ended there. While John Sheppard, whom she'd tagged as ridiculously well-grounded for someone whose formative years hadn't been any picnic either, had sat in the Gulfstream munching on an Oreo, the truth had come crashing down on her. A long-buried suspicion had suddenly resurfaced and demanded immediate attention: her parents' deaths, in the fire that had consumed their house while Rebecca had been playing at a neighbor's, had been no accident.
Sleep, when it had come as the aircraft carried them to Iraq, had been at once haunted and restless and cathartic. The scattered shards of her life story had been bonded together with peculiar and unpalatable truths. Upon waking, more disturbed and yet more refreshed than she'd felt since she could remember, she'd managed to construct a mask ofrigid professionalism and focus on the job at hand. Despite any genetic connection she might have to Ninlil-Lilith being a term she could no longer bring herself to use-Rebecca now knew without question that the two opposing groups intended two very different outcomes for humanity, regardless of the war with the On. She also understood that she had indeed been raised by her parents to help mankind, and whether she was truly human or something else entirely was not relevant to that fact.
The inevitable questions couldn't be ignored forever, though. What she'd said to John still stood. What did it mean to be human? He carried the Ancient gene, and he'd been fed upon-and restored-by a Wraith; she was certain of that, despite his transparent claim that he'd merely `witnessed' the act. One of his team members, a woman who would soon be arriving from the Pegasus Galaxy, had Wraith genes, while another was immune to Wraith feeding. And they were human-weren't they?
She'd never considered the very definition of being human to be up for debate before. Now she desperately missed the innocence she'd worn until this week.
The vials now filled with blood, the lieutenant apologized again and withdrew the needle. He deftly placed a cotton swab over the tiny puncture and taped it in place. Rebecca rolled down her sleeve and watched him label each vial. All in the name of science and defense. Ninlil might have lost her grip on reality, but her original goal had been to protect Ancients and humans from the Ori, and so she had created a form of human with the best possible combination ofAncient, Wraith and human genes. Did that make those, like Rebecca, who carried such genes, less than human… or more'?
"Agent Larance, please report to the briefing room," came a disembodied voice that she identified as belonging to Chief Harriman.
As was often the case in her line of work, the facts didn't matter. It was what people believed that drove them to act in ways that her textbooks and a hundred gruesome crime scenes had defined as less than human. What would the people of Earth believe if and when this truth was brought to light'? When the current crisis ended, where would it leave her and those like her'?
With a nod from the nurse to confirm that she was free to go, she eased off the bed just as Daniel Jackson strode in, a grim expression on his face. "We've just gotten confirmation from Dr. Lam in Germany," he informed her without preamble, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You were right. Using the enzyme test she's devised, Carolyn checked the bodies you were sent to investigate last week, the ones from the Munich sewers. They were victims of a succubus feeding-presumably a succubus, since the victims were all male."
He spoke so fast that Rebecca had to watch his lips to keep pace. No doubt he'd cultivated the trait in an environment where details were considered less critical than actions. She was about to tell him to slow down, but his next declaration struck with a force that robbed her of breath.
"Carolyn also confirmed that the same enzyme is present in a random sample of what they now estimate to be around two hundred bodies found a few hours ago in the Blaubeuren caves. The corpses they've pulled out so far all have had their hearts and livers removed."
Oh, hell. Until that moment she'd been operating under the theory that the term `Awakening' in the doctrine of the Lilith cult had been a reference to those who carried the bloodline, not something more literal. She swore softly, fighting the urge to throttle something-preferably herself. How had she let herself be so badly blindsided? Focused on her own starring and as-yet-to-be-disclosed role in this, she'd made the most fundamental of errors: an assumption. "Crap."
"Yeah. The authorities also have confirmed that a large icon, two concentric circles bisected by an isosceles triangle, has been carved into the limestone structure of the cavern. Given what we know of Wraith hive behavior, this `Awakening' may be applicable to both the first generation of incubi and succubi as well as the bloodlines hidden in the human population." He gestured for her to precede him into the gray-walled maze, then turn right outside the doorway.
"I can't believe I didn't see that sooner." Rebecca ran a tired hand through her hair as she walked.
"Don't beat yourself up over it. I should have thought of it too. While you may be more familiar with the `cult,' the genuine alien context is still pretty new to you."
She glanced over at him as he fell into step beside her. "Charitable of you, Dr. Jackson, but that's no excuse. In my line of work you hit the ground running, no matter the circumstances. If you don't, more people die."
Pulling his hands from his pockets, he offered her a pensive smile. "I'm not a psychiatrist, but we hit the ground running over a decade ago and we haven't stopped since. Even so, good people, human and otherwise, still die. No one person can or should assume the blame for that. While we never forget our failures-and trust me, we've had some real showstoppers — we're still here, and we'll keep going."
If they can do it, so can you. Get a grip, and get past it now. She took a deep breath. "Okay, how old are the bodies?"
Passing a sergeant who carried an exceptionally large wrench, Jackson turned toward the stairs. "They can't be completely sure until they bring in a team that can reach the bottom of the cave where the rest of the bodies were tossed. From what they've been able to ascertain so far, there are two groups of victims. One has been deceased about two weeks and the other around four weeks, although it's difficult to be exact given the desiccation. It'll be a while, if ever, before they can ID all of them, but local authorities believe most came from Munich and Ulm. Based on a quick glance at dental work and other factors, the forensics team unofficially theorized that the majority were transients originally from East Germany or Russia."
More victims of economic and political fallout. "It tracks. Even now the Lilith are trying to keep a low profile."
"Were, you mean." Jackson shook his head. "Around 0300 local time, Blaubeuren villagers heard gunshots and cries from the area. Several local men went to investigate and found-well, they described it as a massacre." Reaching the top of the stairs, he paused and looked back at her expectantly.