Chapter 14- The Message and Translation

A/N: I know Shannon was the one in the show who spoke French, but I am changing that detail for this story. It'll be Hope instead who speaks and understands French. It will also come as a shock to Ben and the Others as, I would think, French is a language Ben might not like as it would remind him of Rousseau and kidnapping Alex.

Hope and Ben-Ben walked across a meadow. Hope watched the sunlight dapping on her hands. Apparently this island got a lot of rain as the grass was very soft and green, but the sun shining on everything was beautiful too. Sayid unwrapped the radio after looking around. "Oh, now's a good time to check the radio. Not before, but now," Sawyer said sarcastically.

"We're up higher." Sayid said, making some adjustments.

"Yes we are," Sawyer said, nearly drowning out the static coming from the walkie. Hope and Ben-Ben stood beside Sayid as the static gave way to a whirring sound.

"Bar," Sayid said. "Hey, we've got a bar!" Sayid shouted excitedly. Everyone else gathered around them as Sayid tried to raise someone on the radio.

"What is that?" Kate asked as something squealed.

"Feedback," Sayid said.

"Feedback from where? What would do that?" Hope asked.

"I don't know," Sayid said.

"I'll tell you what would do that. This guy not fixing the radio. The thing doesn't even work," Sawyer said nastily.

"No, no, no, no, no, it's not broken. We can't transmit because something else is already transmitting," Sayid said.

"Transmitted from where?" Charlie asked.

"Somewhere close. The signal's strong," Sayid said.

"Somewhere close? On the island? That's great!" Charlie almost shouted.

"Maybe it's other survivors." Boone suggested.

"From our plane? How...?" Shannon started to ask.

"What kind of transmission?" Sawyer interrupted.

"It could be sat phonem maybe a radio signal," Sayid said.

"Can we listen to it?" Hope asked.

"Let me get the frequency first. Hold on," Sayid said, fiddling with some buttons.

"There's no transmission," Sawyer said rudely.

"Shut up!" Hope and Kate said at the same time.

"The rescue party, it has to be," Charlie said as some woman speaking French filled the radio.

"It's French. The French are coming! I've never been so happy to hear the French," Charlie exclaimed, causing Sayid to laugh.

Ben felt slightly winded as he came to the edge of the clearing. His children and the others were gathered around Sayid Jarrah, who was holding the transceiver from the plane and a voice, from Ben's memory that spoke French, filled the air. It was not a language Ben liked hearing as Alex's mother had spoken French the night he had taken her. Ben had refused for anyone to learn French or speak it around him. For them, Latin was the language.

"I never took French. What is she saying?" Kate Austen asked.

"Does anyone speak French?" Sayid Jarrah asked, looking around.

"Uh, she does," Benjamin said, pointing at Hope. Ben was unpleasantly surprised. His daughter knew French? The one language her father hated she knew?

"No, I don't. What?" Hope asked, her voice getting high as she looked at Benjamin.

"What are you talking about? You know how to cook French cuisine and you spent a year in Paris as an exchange student!" Benjamin said, sounding exasperated.

"Yeah. I was a student! The family I was with spoke English and French cooking doesn't make anyone proficient in a language. You should know that. You got an F in Latin when you were eight!" Hope nearly shouted. Ben was again surprised. So his son did know some Latin, but apparently not well enough.

"Iteration 7-2-9-5-3-1," a man's loud voice carried over to Ben.

"Okay, what's that?" Charlie Pace asked.

"Oh, no, no, no," Sayid said as something loudly beeped.

"What is it?" Shannon Rutherford asked.

"The batteries are dying," Sayid said.

"How much time do we have?" Kate Austen asked.

"Not much," Sayid said.

"I've heard you speak French, big sister. Just listen to this," Benjamin said, confirming for their father who was the oldest. The file hadn't told Ben which one was the oldest, but now he knew.

"I can't!" Hope shouted.

"Do you speak French or not, Blue Eyes, because that would be nice," Ford said. Hope looked as if she was crying and hyperventilating at the same time.

"Come on, come on," Benjamin and Jarrah begged Hope.

"It's...It's repeating," Hope said, hesitating slightly.

"She's right," Jarrah said.

"What?" Boone Carlyle asked.

"It's a loop. "Iteration." It's repeating the same message," Sayid said. "It's a counter." The man's voice said "Iteration" again. "The next number will end in 5-3-3," Jarrah said.

"Does anyone know what he's talking about?" Fors asked.

"It's a running count of the number of times the message has repeated. It's roughly 30 seconds long. So...how long...?" Jarrah tried to figure it out mathematically.

"Don't forget to carry the one," Ford snarked as the "Iteration" repeated. Ben looked at his daughter. Her reddish brown hair was coming loose from her braids and her face was red, dirty, and covered with tear tracks. Hope was chewing her lips nervously. Having to translate a foreign language was nerve-wracking, especially if she wasn't sure of the exact translation. Ben chuckled dryly to himself. How would both of his children feel if they knew he had decided to teach them Latin when they came to live with him and Alex? Granted, his son knew Latin, but this time Benjamin would not be allowed to fail it.

"She's saying... "Please." She's saying, "Please, help me. Please, come get me," Hope said in a tear-filled voice.

"Or she's not! You don't even speak French!" Ford yelled irritably.

"Shut up and let her try!" Benjamin said, Kate Austen and Boone Carlyle backing him.

"Guys, the battery. The battery," Charlie Pace warned. Hope took the transceiver from Sayid, holding it to her ear.

"I'm alone now. I'm...on the island alone. Please, someone come. The others, they're...they're dead. It killed them. It killed them all," Hope translated, her voice getting stronger with each word.

"That was good," Boone Carlyle said.

"Sixteen years," Sayid said.

"What?" Boone asked.

"Sixteen years and five months. That's the count," Sayid said, finishing his calculations/

"What are you talking about?" Benjamin asked/

"The iterations, Benjamin. It's a distress call. A plea for help. A mayday. If the counter is right...it's been playing over and over for 16 years," Sayid said.

"Someone else was stranded here?" Boone asked.

"Maybe they came for them?" Kate suggested.

"If someone came, why is it still playing?" Ford asked, no longer sarcastic.

"Guys, where are we?" Charlie Pace asked, another question that no one other than Ben and his people knew.