'What do we know about Linea?' - 'Not enough!' Daniel thought to himself. He was sitting in his lab with a stack of open books in front of him and a notepad filled with tight packed notes. General Hammond had given him three hours to put together a report on Linea whilst the military members of the SGC discussed tactics and weaponry. He took off his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes. His head ached and he needed coffee. He winced as a growing discomfort in his stomach reminded him that he had forgotten to take his meds that morning. To tell the truth, the more he thought about it, the less sure he was that it was Linea anyway. True she had technological ability to match her biological knowledge (she had shown that when she had taken over the base computers) but mechanical spiders seemed inelegant compared to the silent killer of a virus. Of course, if it was Linea, then the current mess would be SG-1's fault. It was not a pleasant thought.

'There's not enough time.'

Daniel looked round hesitantly. "Sam?"

'We released her less than two years ago.' The voice continued, 'That's not long to create a new weapon and for it to over-run the Asgard world.'

"Unless she had already created it?" Daniel replied out loud, deciding to postpone worrying about hearing disembodied voices for the moment, given that the conversation seemed to be going in a useful direction. He needed someone to bounce ideas off.

'But that still leaves a lot of unanswered questions.' Sam's voice said and Daniel could picture the thoughtful expression that would be on her face as she spoke. 'Why not create another virus? Why go after the Asgard? And why couldn't the Asgard defeat her if she's only human?'

Sam was right, it didn't make sense. Daniel thought for a moment and then looked up, addressing the empty room, "I don't s'pose you can tell me anything about these spider things?"

Silence.

"We could really use a little help" he encouraged.

More silence.

"I guess not then."

Daniel stared broodily across the room and tried to think logically. Surely if it had been Sam communicating with him then she would have been a little more forthcoming. She hadn't really told him anything that he hadn't already been thinking which suggested that she was just a figment of his imagination. And if he was imagining her...

He shifted uncomfortably, and looked at the clock. Just forty minutes left to finalise his report. He'd worry about his sanity later. First he had to worry about the safety of the world.

Two hours later:

The door of the briefing room closed behind him and Daniel walked slowly back along the corridor. He was frustrated by the lack of progress. The navy hadn't found any sign of the Russian sub, there had apparently been no other reports of anything untoward at sea and until one or other of those things changed, no action was possible. Strategic plans had been made but it felt very much as if they were stabbing blindly in the dark. Daniel had totally lost faith in the Linea theory anyway and he couldn't shake off the feeling that he had missed something obvious. The gate still wasn't working and SG-1 were still trapped off world.

Also, he wasn't feeling great. He hadn't had time to get back to his quarters to get his meds, his stomach hurt and he was feeling a bit sick and dizzy. The fact that he had skipped breakfast probably hadn't helped, but he wasn't sure that he could face lunch.

He stepped into the elevator and let out a tired sigh. At least he didn't have to check back to the infirmary. He had a feeling Janet might be cross with him for overdoing it and he didn't fancy a lecture now. He planned to back to his room, take a couple of pills, maybe rest for half an hour while they kicked in and then go and do something useful. He rested his head against the cool metal walls as the elevator shot up the levels. Unfortunately, when the elevator doors slid open they revealed Janet standing in the middle of the hallway talking to a nurse. Daniel tried to slip casually past the pair unnoticed but Janet spotted him and held up one hand to restrain him. With a smile she dismissed the nurse and turned to Daniel.

"Ah – hi" he said, forcing a smile. He could see that Janet was looking at him with that annoyingly insightful expression in her eyes again.

"Do I need to get you back to the infirmary?" She asked bluntly, sizing him up in an instant.

"No" he replied decisively.

Janet didn't say anything, but he could read her disapproval in her expression. She made as if to feel his forehead but he swatted her hand away in irritation. The action ignited a sharp stab of pain and he turned a shade paler. Janet noticed at once.

"Daniel!?" she said in a tone combining irritation, concern and enquiry. It was a tone she tended to reserve for him.

He sighed reluctantly. "Hurting a bit" he tried to sound casual. "Forgot meds. Getting them now."

"No" she said sternly "You are coming back with me. You need to rest and I don't trust you to actually do it unless I am watching you."

Daniel considered arguing with her, but he was feeling increasingly crap and decided it was not worth the effort. In any case, Janet could always get General Hammond to order him to the infirmary and on balance it was better to be there willingly than under compulsion.

"Ok" he said meekly. Janet looked a bit surprised; she had been expecting more of a battle. Before he could change his mind she steered him into the infirmary, gave him a glass of water, put two pills in his hand and watched him swallow them. "Bed" she said peremptorily, taking the empty glass from him "Two hours minimum."

Daniel lay down on top of the covers figuring that he wouldn't actually be able to sleep until the stomach ache eased. Now that he was no longer on 'the good stuff' as Jack called it the meds took longer to kick in. He lay curled up on his left side riding out the waves of pain and waited for the achiness to subside.

When Janet came past ten minutes later she found him fast asleep, his arms wrapped around his middle, glasses askew. She eased the glasses off, folding them carefully and placed them on the bedside cabinet. Fetching a blanket she spread it gently over him and tucked him in. For a moment her hand paused on his shoulder and she involuntarily stroked his arm with her thumb. She had, she realised, forgotten to ask if he had heard any more voices.