Daniel contemplated the smooth vessel in his hand, and its contents.
Elixir of the gods. Bringer of life. Tamer of the human beast. Those were only some of the names the inhabitants of this world used for the Vegetable.
It was amazing how wide spread the use of the Vegetable was here. Eaten sometimes in its raw form, or cooked, or ground, or even candied. More often distilled into the liquor he held.
Served hot or cold. Sometimes diluted, or mixed with other beverages or foods. This little plant was eaten or drunk every day by a majority of the adult inhabitants of this world. Including SG-1, while they were there.
It was plentiful, thankfully -- he could imagine the wars this stuff could start. And non-partisan; men and women, rich and poor alike, had ready access to it. And joyfully partook on a daily basis. He doubted they could resist the insidious Vegetable anymore. He wasn't sure he could.
The Vegetable was a benevolent despot, demanding only that it be consumed regularly. A man could imbibe it in any form once, or even a few times with no ill effects. After just a few days, however, it would make itself at home in your body. And your body would happily adopt it, demanding more, tormenting you endlessly until it was provided. He'd felt the signs of it himself this morning; the niggling craving for the Vegetable, the urge to pick upits little vessel the moment he saw it.
He should stop. He knew he should. But it was hard; he felt better after partaking of the Vegetable in some form. Calmer and yet more alert at the same time. More able to deal with the day. All thanks to the magic of the Vegetable. He told himself that he could handle it. Rationalized that even if he could not, it wasn't dangerous.
They had all seen what happened when Jack accidentally over dosed with the Vegetable. Not pretty. But also not fatal. The fact that that episode did not stop any of them from consuming the Vegetable was a tribute to its compelling allure.
It was possible to beat the addiction, but not an endeavor for the faint of heart. He had asked Janet about it; and even she said there was little for such a drug but to go 'cold turkey' and endure the awful days of withdrawal. And the lifetime of craving for it. Few, very few, were able to resist it for long. He already knew he was not one of them.
It was funny in a way. He had overcome huge odds to thrive after being orphaned, abandoned by his grandfather, and passed through a series of foster homes. Had stood up to his colleagues, holding his own opinion in the face of their ridicule. He had traveled to other planets, fought battles no civilian should even see. Had defeated snakes who would be gods.
Only to be enslaved by a vegetable.
Totally, wholly, willingly enslaved to its charms.
His team knew he had tried it; they all had. They even knew he was partaking of it rather often. But he doubted they realized the extent of its hold over him. He was afraid to tell them, lest they force him to give it up. He was prepared, just in case; candied Vegetable was stashed in his vest, and a larger cache of the Vegetable in dried form lined the bottom of his pack. He paused, suddenly aware of how dependent that made him seem.
Maybe he should give it up himself, before it drove him to madness. He thought about putting it down. Just set down the vessel, he told himself. Just don't take the drug. No one will force you.
He started to. He really did. Even leaned forward to set it down on its little altar. This particular altar, however, was made to keep its occupant cozily warm, which also sent the Vegetable's rich scent wafting out to seduce him again. He could not do it.
He stood there, wavering before the shrine to the mighty Vegetable, fighting with himself.
He wanted to put it down.
He wanted to feel it work its magic in his body, to feel it moving from his mouth to his belly and out to his fingers and toes, to enjoy the new level of consciousness it would bring to his brain.
It was a sensuous experience in every way. Hot or cold, as would please its user. Potent or weak. Combined with other things to be smooth or sharp, sweet or nutty. A myriad of flavors could be mixed with the versatile Vegetable.
It ruled the world, he realized abruptly. There were shrines to it in nearly every home and business on this entire planet. The traditions varied from place to place, a few even used a different Vegetable entirely but there was always the little altar, and the ritual implements.
The ones here called to him. His fingers yearned to lift the tiny silver tools and put them to use.
To worship the vegetable, and bask in its blessings.
No! It was wrong. Be strong, he told himself. Just say 'no.'
He pushed the little container away.
Pulled it back again.
"Oh, for crying out loud, Daniel! Just pour the coffee already!"