Chapter 12

Dawn again. I watch Elena sleeping so peacefully, and I think I'm content with that. The first few nights we were together, I slept peacefully too. If the nightmares came, I didn't remember them, and Elena mentioned nothing.

The dreams are back, of course, although they've changed. Now they jump from place to place, happy ones mixed with the nightmares, sometimes following one upon the other in dizzying succession. I'll be on Abydos, listening to Sha're's laughter, then she's ripped away as if a hatch has blown on an airlock; and suddenly I'm sitting on my father's lap trying to read his book while he talks over my head to my mother, and I look up only to find myself back on Thor's ship as Jack's mangled body appears before my eyes. I wake up dizzy sometimes, as if I'd actually been spun from dream to dream. And, with Elena so close, I've had to teach myself all over again that off-world trick of waking myself up before I start screaming. I've seen a lot of dawns this way.

I suppose the confusion of my dreams matches the confusion of my waking hours. I have something wonderful, and I know I don't deserve it. I'll feel a burst of happiness, God, actual happiness—I can't even remember the last time I felt that way—and then I'll be swallowed up in a pool of guilt so deep I can't find my way out. I should stop this thing with Elena, I know it, and I think she knows it too. But we don't stop; I'm not sure we can.

Even as I write the words, I know they're not true. Of course I can end it, remind her of her promise, the one that neither of us really believed, that "it was just for this moment." I can tell her, truthfully, that she's better off without me in her life, that I'm too much of a "basket case," that I've discovered in myself a man who would run to save himself, leaving his friends behind. . . .

What I can't tell her is that I'm living a lie and that she'd be safer without me. That, more than anything else, should make me act.

Yet on early mornings like these, as the noises of the night are replaced by the waking sounds of the rainforest, and I watch Elena sleep behind the netting, a small smile on her face, the curves of her body making a graceful landscape under the thin sheet, her foot with its funny bent toes sticking out, unexpected, like Elena herself—on mornings like these, I lose the courage of my convictions. Better than anyone, I know there is no such thing as forever, but I look at Elena, and I want forever.

Daniel closed his journal and shoved it in his pack, thankful he was writing in code, a little embarrassed by his own words. Jack would never have let him hear the end of it. Well, maybe he would, Daniel admitted. Jack, he thought, as cynical as he was about most things, understood love. And he would have liked Elena. Daniel looked at Elena, who was starting to stir, and smiled a little, but his smile was suddenly replaced by a grimace as he realized exactly what Jack would have said, joking but not: "Well, she's not the destroyer of worlds; that's a bonus."

Daniel sighed and put his head in his hands. Forever? He and love didn't get along that way; he knew he was lucky to have had these weeks, would be lucky for any time they had left. It wasn't enough, but it was something.

"Jacques?"

Daniel looked up again and saw that Elena was sitting up, still wrapped in the sheet. She blinked sleepily and yawned.

"You had another nightmare?" she asked.

Daniel shrugged.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No," he said. "I'd rather just forget it."

Elena stood up, slipped on her sandals and walked over to him, the sheet dragging behind her. "Maybe this will help," she said, and bent and kissed him, a long seductive kiss.

"Ummm," Daniel finally said when they broke for air, and went to pull her close again. She put her hand out, stopping him, and said, "Did that help you to forget?"

He smiled at her. "Forget what?" he said.

Elena laughed. "Then my work here is done." She picked the sheet up from the ground and turned to get her clothes.

"Elena!" Daniel almost growled.

"Now, now, all play and no work makes Jacques a dull boy. C'mon, Section 17 is beckoning. If you let the children find the roadway first, you'll never live it down."

Daniel stood and walked up behind her and kissed the back of her neck. "I'll take that chance," he said, and kissed her neck again, and then her bare shoulder.

Elena sighed and arched her back against him like a cat before turning into his embrace. "Damn you, Jacques," she said.

"Too late," Daniel whispered.

******

Saunders watched Elena and Jacques duck out of Jacques's tent. Their hands brushed together slightly as they walked, and they both looked at ease and content, a far cry from the usual almost-manic Elena and the hyperaware Jacques of a month ago. He felt a stab of jealousy—Lucky bastard, he thought—then shrugged it off. Whoever Jacques really was, he was a nice enough guy, and he probably deserved a little happiness. Saunders watched Jacques nudge Elena and nod his head in the direction of the dig. Elena turned her head to look, and rolled her eyes. Saunders followed the look and saw Manoel, clearly furious, stomping toward them.

Saunders grinned, hoping for a show. It was barely eight in the morning, but even Saunders knew by now that on a dig in the Brazilian rainforest, with the short days and with time fast running out on the "dry" season, every hour made a difference. And with the first evidence they'd had that this site was possibly more significant than they had hoped, Manoel was in full battle mode.

Before Manoel could reach the two targets of his ire, though, Jacques stepped forward to meet him. Saunders couldn't hear what was said over the roar of the generator, but Jacques touched Manoel's arm, said a few words, and Manoel seemed to almost deflate. He growled out a few more words that looked like, "Just don't let it happen again." He glared past Jacques at his sister for a moment, and headed for the lab.

The security man shook his head. How the hell does Perrault do that? he wondered. The man could probably talk himself out of the jaws of a tiger. Or an angry mob into a game of hopscotch. He laughed at the last vision, never imagining that before a day had passed, he would have the chance to see Jacques try.

********

Daniel woke suddenly out of a rare deep sleep and for a moment forgot where he was. Something had disturbed him, a sound that didn't belong. He reached for his P-90, and looking around in the almost pitch black for Sam, Teal'c or Jack, grabbed nothing but air. What the hell? The sounds were getting louder now, dim voices, bodies heading through the bush, startled animals screaming.

Daniel's hand brushed the mosquito netting and he squinted in the dark, making out the faint outlines of his tent, finally realizing where he was. He pressed the button to light up the face of his watch and stared at the blurry numbers: 04:23.

Daniel grabbed his glasses and jumped out of bed. He pulled on a pair of pants and slipped barefoot into his work boots, then unzipped the flap of his tent to look out. The yelling was coming from the direction of the river, but he couldn't see anything over the rise. He saw a movement off to his left and recognized Evones, gun in hand, kicking the side of Saunders's tent and quietly calling his colleague's name. Saunders appeared quickly, obviously already awakened by the noise. Daniel slipped out of his tent and approached the men, announcing his presence in Portuguese with a quiet, "It's me, Jacques. What's happening?"

"No idea. Just stay back," Evones said gruffly.

The rest of the camp was waking up now, flashlights and lamps coming on, and voices calling out to each other in various languages. Charles came out yawning, in pajama pants and sandals. "What's all the noise?" he asked. "It's the middle of the bloody night." Daniel just shrugged and pointed in the direction of the shouting.

Manoel came out of his tent fully dressed and walked toward them, then Elena appeared, looking alert and ready for trouble. She searched Daniel out with her eyes and relaxed slightly when she saw him. For Manoel's peace of mind they'd decided to spend the night in their own tents. Now Daniel watched as she walked beside her brother, ready to take charge of whatever was happening.

The students had gathered back near the kitchen, and huddled together speaking in whispers.

The voices were louder now, and Daniel could recognize the Kaipo words. "She's dead, she's dead!" people were shouting. "Get the others." "They killed her!" Suddenly a woman's voice rose in a wail, and others joined in.

"What the hell happened?" Manoel asked, and Daniel wondered if he should tell the man what he knew. Except for a few words, no one else at the camp spoke Kaipo.

"They keep saying the word for death, I think," Charles said from behind them, and Daniel looked back at him with surprise. Charles shrugged. "I listened to a tape before I came. That one stuck in my head."

As the first heads appeared above the rise, Manoel, Elena, Saunders and Evones stepped forward to meet them. Daniel resisted the urge to step forward with them, and resisted the even greater urge to pull Elena back. The first figure came forward, a large man grasping something small, a piece of clothing perhaps, in his hands.

Behind the first man were perhaps 20 other figures, men and women. Several of the men carried the long, machete-like knives they used to cut through the forest, a few carried rifles and Daniel thought he saw at least one handgun. Saunders and Evones shifted uneasily, holding their guns at their sides.

Some of the women continued to wail, and one woman fell to her knees. The man in front started to speak, rapidly, so rapidly that Daniel had trouble keeping up. "This is my daughter's," the man cried. "You have"—there were several words here Daniel didn't understand—"and killed her in the river."

Elena started to say, in Portuguese, "I'm sorry, we don't understand," and several of the men shouted at her angrily. Elena looked helplessly up at Manoel, who asked, "Is Miacuro with you?"

Miacuro stepped forward accompanied by an older man who carried himself with authority.

"Miacuro," Manoel said, over the crying of the women. "Please. We don't understand what has happened."

Miacuro said something to the old man, who spoke rapidly back, but Daniel couldn't hear his words. The old man spoke more loudly to the people behind them, and they quieted.

Miacuro began to talk: "Raya left the village tonight," he said. Daniel's heart sank. Raya was one of the girls who played at the camp. He remembered her giggling after he stopped her from falling in a ditch one day. She couldn't be more than nine years old.

"We searched for her all night," Miacuro continued. "Her father found her clothes by the river. They were ripped and bloody." He turned to the old man and asked a question, then turned back, and they could hear the anger in his voice. "She was taken by a man."

Charles said, "You can't mean. . . ." and Elena shushed him.

Manoel said, "We are terribly sorry the girl is missing, but it has nothing to do with us. Why are you here?" Daniel winced at the unintended harshness of his tone. Rava's father yelled a curse and others in the group stepped forward even before Miacuro translated.

"Manoel!" Elena whispered, then said, "We are terribly sorry if anything has happened to Raya. She is such a sweet little girl. But she may still be all right. Please tell us what we can do to help."

Miacuro listened to the old man and then said, "Her bloody clothes tell us she is not all right. If she was thrown in the river, we will never find her. You will give us the one responsible."

"That's absurd," Manoel practically barked out. "None of our people would harm a child."

"Her friend described him. She said he took Rava for a walk in the forest and promised her sweets if she came back. He is the one called Jens."

There was a collective gasp from the students back by the kitchen, and Jens, the young Dane, could be heard quite clearly. "No! No!"

The dark night was giving way to the gray predawn, and Daniel could make out the angry faces now, and he could see the little pair of shorts and the ripped and bloody tee-shirt. He thought again of the happy little girl and felt sick to his stomach.

The Kaipo men, most dressed only in loin cloths or shorts, and the women, some wearing Western style shifts, some just skirts and some nothing at all, had started to shout in reaction to Jens's denial. The old man yelled, "Justice demands that we take him!" and Miacuro translated, "We must deal with him by our law."

Manoel said, "I'm sorry, you can't just take him. I don't believe he would do such a thing, but even if he did, we can't just let you take him. We'll call the authorities and they will decide what to do."

Miarcuro shook his head and translated for the old man, and another collective shout went up from the people. The father screamed, "They murder out people without consequence, the way it has always been. He took my child from her mother. He deserves death but they will protect their own." Another man shouted, "Then we will take him!"

Miacuro didn't translate, and other than Daniel the rest of the camp had no idea what was being said. But the intent was clear. The Kaipo men raised their knives and aimed their rifles. Saunders swore, stepped in front of Manoel and Elena and pulled his 9-mm up. Evones swung his gun toward the old man.

And Daniel started to move. Only a few steps behind Elena and the others, he ran forward, shouting, in both Portuguese and Kaipo, "No, don't shoot, stop! This isn't necessary!" But he was too late. As he stepped in front of Saunders, knocking his gun aside, the first shot sounded, and then another.