It made the monolithic statue seem all the more out of place. Aside from the pyramid SG-1 had emerged from, the planet showed no sign of intelligent life.
Giant legs stood rigidly upon a squat pedestal, supporting an equally giant torso. Barely destinguishable from the torse, arms slightly bent at the elbow pressed tightly to the sides, ending in clenched fists. The head to the majestic, overwhelming sculpture lay a few feet to the right, half-buried in sand so only one eye, half the nose and some of the headdress—the Nemes crown typically seen on ancient Egyptian pharaoh statues—could be seen.
"My name is Ozymandias, King of kings," Daniel murmured. Jack, standing impatiently behind him, paused in his muttered complaints about the sun and the heat and the sand.
"What?" the colonel asked.
Daniel blinked and cleared his throat. He turned slightly to look at Jack. "A poem by Shelley."
"Frankenstein girl?"
"Percy Shelley," Daniel clarified, "husband."
"Ah," Jack said in understanding, though he clearly didn't.
"Shelley published Ozymandias in 1818. It caught my attention in college, since it was about Egypt. Ozymandias is the Greek name for Ramses II," Daniel explained. "It's one of Shelley's most famous short poems."
Jack made a 'go on' motion with his hands.
Daniel raised his eyebrows skeptically. "You actually want to know?"
"I want to hear the poem," Jack said. "I'm curious. Is that illegal?"
"Just improbable," Daniel said. Jack rolled his eyes, unseen behind wrap-around sunglasses, and waited. Daniel cleared his throat a bit self-conciously, then recited the poem perfectly from memory. When he was done, Jack shook his head.
"The things you remember, Daniel, honestly," Jack murmured.
"I like the poem," Daniel replied defensively. Jack's response was interrupted by the crackle of the radio.
"Colonel, there's nothing here," Sam Carter's voice said.
"All right. Collect your samples and bring it in," Jack ordered. Sam answered with a crisp 'yes, sir' and the radio went silent again.
"Well, do your thing, Daniel," Jack said. He readjusted his sunglasses as Daniel took out his camcorder and began to record, talking softly. He paused in his narration and observations.
"There's some writing on the pedestal," he said.
"Goa'uld?" Jack inquired.
Daniel kneeled to get a better look at the inscription, and choked on a laugh. "You won't believe this."
"Daniel?" Jack's voice held a shadow of a threat, though he was mostly curious.
"It says in Goa'uld, 'You gaze upon the might and power of Ramses II. Look upon it, and despair'," Daniel said.
Jack snorted, bemused. "Seriously?"
Daniel twisted to smirk at Jack. "No."
"Daniel," Jack complained.
"The writing is actually too worn to read, and no wonder: this has probably been here for centuries," Daniel said, turning back to the illegible symbols. He stood, and dusted the sand off of his pants. "I'll take a sample for dating."
"Good idea," Jack agreed.
Fifteen minutes later, SG-1 stepped through the gate, samples collected and architecture recorded for later review.
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.