Part 3

He tried to use logic at first, but it made no difference. He tried to negotiate, but no one listened. He had begged and pleaded with them to help him understand, but they ignored every word he said. Words were his most effective weapons, but his captors seemed impervious to them. He wondered momentarily if they were deaf… or just plain stupid. He feared the truth was that they were simply hardened to the point where their sympathies had been exterminated. Perhaps that was why they were chosen for this job. He didn't blame them, exactly. They were jailers. It was their job, and they couldn't be condemned for it. Except that no matter what their superiors ordered them to do, they still had a choice, still possessed free will to decide. There was always a choice.

So he kept talking to them, hoping that something he said would get through.

It wasn't long before he learned how wrong he was.

The guards came again. Although he couldn't be sure, they seemed to come at regular intervals and he assumed it was about twice a day. They always brought the same strange tasting food, which he barely touched, before they quickly disappeared. This had happened for several days now and he always tried to talk to them. And they always ignored him, walking silently away. It had become something of a routine.

Today was different. The metal door creaked open and he jumped to his feet. There were four guards instead of the usual two, and they carried no bowl of slop that masqueraded as dinner.

"Why am I here?" he asked. He asked that every time, hoping this time there would be an answer.

Still, he was surprised when one of the guards spoke. "You are here to learn the punishment for terrorism. As an enemy of the state, you will remain here until the court has finalized your conviction, at which time the Chief Minister will schedule your execution."

His jaw dropped, shock written clearly across every feature. "No, no, tha-that's not right." Desperately trying to make sense of senseless words, he clung to some semblance of rationality. "I don't know what you've been told, or where your orders came from, but I-I'm not a terrorist." They appeared unconvinced, indifferent and uncaring. "Please, allow me to speak with Chief Minister Nebal, or Ambassador Sevoy. They can explain. This is all some kind of mistake."

"The only mistake here," the guard snarled slightly, "is that a criminal such as yourself would dare to attack the sovereignty of our nation. A mistake, for which you will pay most dearly."

Daniel backed away quickly. "No. I didn't attack anyone. My team came here to make peaceful contact with your people. We have no desire to…"

His words were halted by a fist connecting with his face. Daniel's head snapped backwards as he staggered, nearly losing his footing. Hands quickly grabbed his arms as two guards moved to his sides, restraining him between them. The first guard still towered in front of him, grinning madly as Daniel spat blood onto the floor. The grin was more than enough to tell Daniel what would happen next. He struggled against the guards, who merely tightened their grip, seizing him with bruising force. At a nod from their leader, one of the guards reached for a metallic object that glistened at the corner of Daniel's vision before it disappeared behind his back. He felt something jab into his side and Daniel gasped in pain as a quick shock shot through his body. It resembled the electrical current of a zat, but sharper and more localized. His knees buckled and his back arched as the device sent ripples of energy traveling along tense muscles. He clenched his teeth and fought to hold back the pain.

When the metallic device was finally removed, he sagged in relief, panting for breath as black spots clouded his vision. The two guards were now supporting him as well as restraining him. He saw the fourth guard advance with fists clenched, but the first blow fell before he could react.

They took turns then, working him over until he nearly passed out. When they left, he lay in a battered heap, drenched in sweat and trembling in pain as he struggled to take another ragged breath.

Daniel twitched in his sleep, images scattering from his mind. In a drowsy state of half-consciousness, he heard the shuffled steps of people, the gentle beeping of some machinery, and somewhere a phone rang. His eyelids lifted slightly and he saw the curtain blocking him off from the rest of the infirmary. Haunted and weary with memories, he drifted back to sleep.

Cold. All-encompassing cold. Daniel shivered, his bones aching, feeling the invisible pin-prick of the biting air in his dark cell, as his head pounded relentlessly. He'd been left here for some time, he wasn't sure exactly how long. Time had ceased to have normal meaning, and with no frame of reference, he had stopped trying to guess how long he'd been here. Or how long he would remain here.

If a society is judged by how it treats its least valuable members, than the Rahsonians had a long way to go. Whatever you have done to the least of these… Daniel couldn't remember where he'd heard those words before and that disturbed him.

He shook off the memory and tried to focus. Daniel had been so excited by the possibilities that these people were offering. The Ancient technology left behind on their planet could help defend earth against the Ori. Without even realizing it, Daniel had begun to pin his hopes on the treaty that would secure this one Ancient device. It was another shred of the Ancients' knowledge, elusive and powerful, and always just out of reach. And it could be their salvation.

Had he been wrong? Vala had joked that he was obsessed with the knowledge of the Ancients, but what if she was right? Maybe he had been too optimistic about the potential of this device. But now he might never know. Just when he seemed to be making progress on the texts he had been given, he had been seized and imprisoned.

They wouldn't even tell him why he was here.

Why was he here? He had been going to meet the rest of the team, to tell them… something. Something about the translations. It had seemed important at the time.

Daniel pulled himself up into the corner, shivering so violently that his back hit the wall behind him, causing him to wince in pain as bruised skin connected with unforgiving stone.

Focus, he told himself. How did he get here? He needed to remember something. Something specific.

Fighting through the fog, he forced his mind backwards to the last thing he could vaguely recall before this place… this prison.

He had been in the archives. Someone had taken him to the archives building, but had been called away. Ambassador Someone. Sevy? Seetoy? Sevoy. Ambassador Sevoy. Yes that was it.

The throbbing in his mind increased, like a marching band of elephants running laps around his head. Pressing his fingers to his temples, he tried to think.

The ambassador had left. Yes. Then what? He had been researching something. Well, that's informative, genius, a sarcastic voice joined the elephants in mocking him. You spend most of your life researching something that no one really cares about. "Shut up," he muttered. This time the research had been important. He needed to tell… who was he going to tell? His friends, that's right. His team. They would care, because it was important. Right, because they always care so much about your worthless research. The sarcastic voice was only making his headache worse.

What had he been trying to remember? Oh, yes. How he got here. The Archives. The ambassador left. But there was someone else there. Someone who was helping him.

"Cirano, this isn't right. Look here," he pointed to a line of text, "this doesn't make sense."

"I don't see what you are referring to," another voice said. Who was Cirano? Another researcher perhaps?

"Are you sure these are the original documents?"

"Of course."

"I'd like to see the inscription on the device itself, just to double check its authenticity." Daniel remembered saying the words, but couldn't place them into context. He wished the room would stop spinning.

"There is no need," Cirano replied. "My government has guaranteed its authenticity."

"Cirano, this text is full of errors. The grammatical structure is…it's nonexistent! Look at this logically, as a historian. It can't be accurate." He had pleaded for rationality.

Cirano shook his head. "You are wasting your time. My government would not be wrong."

He remembered feeling angry, frustrated. Something else had happened after that, but it didn't make any sense. The guards had come and spoke to Cirano.

"Your research for the day is done," said a man in a red uniform. "You will now go home for the remainder of the day."

"Of course," Cirano replied. He was not upset. Daniel would have been upset. He remembered Cirano's excitement when he entered the archives, how he said he had waited for months before he was granted permission for this visit. It was a valuable and privileged opportunity. Now he was told to leave. And he did. He seemed happy about it. Daniel frowned in confusion. Was that really how it had happened, or was he confused again?

Without warning, Daniel's focus shifted, his mind betraying him again.

Brilliant flashes of color blinded him momentarily, accompanied by a spike of pain behind his eyes. The hard won memories faded to the blackness of his cell, which was soon blotted out by splashes of brightness.

Lights swirled in front of him in intricate patterns, both mesmerizing and horrifying in their intensity. Blue faded into purple, then red, lanced through with yellow and white. A backdrop of pale blue sky dotted with gold, while strands of silver and green wove a web of fine lines before him, catching the light like a spider's web in the early morning. Each image shaded with depth and meaning that lay just outside his reach.

Entranced by the dazzling shapes dancing before him, Daniel wondered briefly if this was what it had felt like when he was ascended – enchanted by wonders beyond comprehension, complicit in his own powerlessness.

The colors swirled again, shifting as memories shattered through his mind like broken glass. He was looking through a window. Down below him, he saw a body wrapped in bandages and lying on a bed.

The window rippled before him like an open wormhole and the image faded. He felt the slice of transparent shards, but it was soon drowned out by the burning in his hand. He looked down to see the flesh of his right hand melting before his eyes, slowly seared away by radiation.

Daniel jerked awake, gasping for breath. His eyes darted from side to side, desperately.

The infirmary? How did he get here?

"Dr. Jackson?" He jumped at the voice that was far too close for comfort. "Sorry," Carolyn smiled gently. "Still having nightmares?"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah. Maybe. Or something similar." Carolyn gave him a puzzled look. Daniel responded with an innocent shrug. "Nightmares, memories… it's pretty much the same thing." Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he tried to banish the lingering confusion. "How long was I…?"

"Asleep?" Carolyn finished. He nodded. "About seventeen hours." Daniel's eyes widened. "I was going to release you yesterday, but I didn't want to wake you," she said with an amused grin.

"Uh, thanks, I think. What time is it?"

Carolyn glanced at her watch. "A little after nine a.m."

Daniel sighed, marveling over how a simple thing like time could be reassuring. He scooted to the side of the bed, absently realizing he was still wearing the clothes he'd been given yesterday. He winced slightly as stiff muscles made themselves known. His back ached. His left hand moved to massage his throbbing knee as he contemplated how much pain would be associated with standing up.

Without saying a word, Carolyn held out a glass of water and a small paper cup containing two pills. Daniel sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at her innocently, as if asking what the pills were for.

But Carolyn was used to this sort of behavior from him. Daniel's aversion to medication was well known, and she was actually relieved to see him acting more like himself. Yesterday, he had complied with everything she had asked of him, and while it made the examination easier, it was also a little unsettling.

Carolyn gave a huff of mock impatience as she settled into lecture mode. "Look, Dr. Jackson, you're going to be extremely sore for several days yet, even with the medication. Now I don't see a good reason for you to be in any more pain than is absolutely necessary."

Daniel seemed to seriously think about that for a few minutes. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked. "Couldn't that cause some kind of reaction with the drugs they already gave me? On Rahsonia, I mean."

"I've already gone over your blood work. The Rahsonian drugs have begun to work their way out of your system and I double checked to make sure they wouldn't cause any adverse reactions. It's perfectly safe. So take the pills, and don't argue with me."

Daniel gave her a small grin. "Yes, ma'am." He took the medication from her, washing it down with the glass of water. "I don't suppose you have any idea what they gave me?"

Carolyn leaned her hip against the bed. "It appears to be a mixture of several different medications. I'm still analyzing a few of them, but from what I can tell so far, you were right about the Rahsonians using it to control their prisoners. It seems to be specifically designed to slow a patient's reaction time and make them more compliant, interfering with the patient's ability to think clearly and rationally. I imagine that's the cause of your disorientation and confusion."

He nodded contemplatively. "Keep the prisoners confused and they'll do whatever they're told."

"So it would seem. There's another thing. This lovely cocktail you were given was laced with a hallucinogenic."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Oh, wonderful."

Carolyn gently patted his arm. "That's partially why I let you sleep. Aside from the fact that you needed it, most of the drugs should have worn off by now. You may experience a few side effects for the next couple of days, but they should be mild. Now," she pointed at his left knee, "let me take a look at that."

With a martyred sigh, Daniel complied, trying not to wince as she poked and prodded abused muscles and strained ligaments.

"You sure did a number on this knee," Carolyn commented.

"The Rahsonians did a number on my knee," Daniel corrected. "And if you think that's bad, you should have seen what it looked like before." At Carolyn's glare, Daniel winced, immediately regretting his words. He silently wondered if those drugs interfered with his ability to speak as well as think. "What I meant was that it's already starting to heal. It's just sprained, right? Nothing to worry about." He tried giving her a smile for good measure.

Carolyn shook her head, unable to hide her amusement. "Nice save."

"Thanks. I thought so. Does that mean I can leave?" Daniel asked hopefully.

With a dramatic eye roll, Carolyn nodded. "Yes, you can leave, on the condition that you stay on base for now, try to get as much rest as possible, and check in with me again tonight, just to be sure everything's okay. And keep that knee wrapped. The x-rays looked good, but I still want to minimize any swelling while the ligaments heal." Daniel nodded in agreement. "Go get something to eat," she ordered. "Oh, and you might want to shave. You're looking a little on the scruffy side." Daniel rubbed a hand along his jaw as he realized she was right. "The general wants to see you as well, but I want you to eat first or I'll have you dragged back in here and hooked up to an IV."

"Any other orders you'd like to add?" Daniel asked with a touch of sarcasm.

"No," Carolyn replied, completely deadpan. "I think that's about it."

Trying to look put out, Daniel stood, rolling a shoulder experimentally to try and ease the stiffness. When he turned back to the doctor, his look of mock irritation faded. "Thanks, Carolyn."

She smiled. "Anytime."