Chapter 65

2008

Evan paused in the doorway before Johnson could close the door on him. "You know," he said, "I don't know what he did to you or how he smuggled you on the Daedalus, but you must know that there's another way. You lived with us for how long? You-"

"Evan," Alex interrupted him, her voice tense. Ba'al had only just allowed them to leave his presence. Why he'd ordered Johnson to escort them, Evan couldn't begin to understand, just like he had no idea why Alex wouldn't want him to talk to her right now. "Just- don't."

"She is right, Major," Johnson said, "you don't know me. Don't presume to."

"I-" the words got stuck halfway and he released what would have been the rest of his sentence in a groan. She wasn't his daughter. This creature before him could never be his child. Genetically she might be, yes, but that was it.

"Your daughter is dead. And you'd better learn to live with it."

Evan nodded, taking a step back into the cell. "I know. But that doesn't mean you have to be loyal to him." It was no use. She could see it in her eyes. Whatever she was, whatever method Ba'al had used to clone and accelerate her growth, had rendered her open to his manipulation in every way. She wasn't from Earth. She wasn't even sympathetic to the people from Earth, least of all the people whose DNA made up her own. And yet… just thinking that Nora, the one who had been his daughter would have grown up to look like this, made him want to scream.

"I suggest you get some rest before we arrive at our destination," she said coolly and pressed a button and next second the door slid shut. Did he imagine it or had a trace of Adam's superior arrogance just appeared in those features?

Alex's hands slid up his back and slowly forced him to turn around. She'd seen it too. With a nod, she pulled him closer, pressed her cheek against his and slung her arms around him, her bump right against his stomach. "She's not Nora," she whispered in German, the words sending a chill down his spine.

"I never said I thought she was," he replied slowly in the same language. He had no idea how many mistakes he was making, but who cared? Taking a deep breath to take in her unique scent, he kissed her temple and pulled her a bit closer.

Was he imagining it, or could he really sense the child moving?

And where the hell was that rescue team?

They didn't show.

Once again, Evan had been sure his people would render assistance, the last couple of years had taught him as much. And once again, he was the fool. Five days later they were still Ba'al's prisoners. Five days later they were still stuck in a cell, although, after about two days, they were transferred to a whole new one.

They were taken to a nearby ring platform, transported into a high-ceilinged room and taken several sets of stairs up, until there was no further to go, and then into a new room, which was hardly furnished at all, but at least had a small, narrow window. Evan didn't even need to try to know that he'd never fit through there, but that wind and rain would easily make their way in here. Through the long slit in the white stone he could see a hilly, brownish landscape with not a single body of water nearby. He also couldn't see any other buildings or roads. Of course that didn't mean such things didn't exist here. The layout of the building, as far as they'd been led through it, hadn't suggested any escape routes, but at least Evan remembered the way back to the rings.

And then what?

Risk getting shot at?

A guard brought them food and water without speaking to them. They'd both given up their hunger strike after about a day. Alex needed to eat, and so did Evan if he wanted to keep up his strength and be able to find a way out of here. Not that he had a whole lot of hope. Despite the overall medieval-looking architecture of the room and the furniture, the door was made of sturdy metal and the lock outside and accordingly unreachable.

And so they spent their days staring at the walls, talking very little and worrying about what might come next. After three days locked inside the room, another guard brought several scrolls of parchment, Alex's tablet and heaps of paper and pens. Even recognized most of them at once as Alex's. The corners of the paper had already been strategically folded, the way Alex usually did to organize her notebooks. Alex picked up the first bit of paper as soon as the door closed behind Ronda and frowned at it, but the way her eyebrow twitched and her nose creased, told Evan that this more than she'd thought it would be.

"What?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the long silence. He put down the extra piece of paper he'd picked up, ready to start scribbling, just to pass the time.

"It's the same script as on the steles we found a couple of months ago," she said. "It's the same text which Sheppard and his team found."

Evan stood up straight away to stand next to her. "So, he just needed a linguist? Why didn't he wait for you to get the translation done and then have Johnson steal the files? Would've been easier."

"Not as fast, though," Alex said quietly, brushing the hair out of her eye. "And I can't do anything with just these texts." She rubbed her temple and looked at her notebooks. "They went through them already, I'm sure of that."

"I agree," Evan quietly. And the way they'd both jumped at the opportunity of a distraction, even if it meant doing exactly what Ba'al wanted them to do, told him more about his current state of mind than he wanted to know. He picked up her tablet. "Do you think Johnson's been through this stuff? Or Ba'al?" They'd avoided talking about Johnson this entire time and even now he could sense Alex tense up beside him.

With a snort, Alex sat down on the bed and frowned at the paper as though it was something downright offensive. "Or maybe Astarte?" she grumbled, making Evan flinch. The Goa'uld queen Ba'al had talked about. Had the implantation already happened? Did he even want to know? "I really, really don't want to help that bastard." She sighed and dropped the paper on the bed next to her. "You remember what McKay thought we would find with the clues in that thing?"

Evan nodded and sat down next to her. "Zero Point Modules." He remembered the drawings.

Alex punched the thin mattress. "Plural. Yes. And I'd hate for him to be right and then have Ba'al get his dirty hands on them." Her own were trembling as she picked up the papers again to go through them one by one. Her frown deepened with every page.

"That's why he brought you here? Because he can't translate these things without you?"

Alex shrugged. "He seems fond of me," she grimaced. "He could've taken any other archaeologist who worked on that project near Bagdad seven years ago, but he picked me. Twice."

"Because he knew you existed, not because he liked you." Shaking his head, he put his arms around her and pulled her close so her head was resting against his chest. After a moment, she relaxed slightly and he let his right hand trail down her arm. She was so fragile he was almost terrified of touching her these days. He couldn't remember ever seeing her this scared. Not that he wasn't, but he refused to let it show. If he broke down now, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to pick himself back up again.

"No, you're right," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I didn't mean it like that, though, you know."

Evan nodded. "Yes, I know." He doubted Ba'al was capable of liking anything but himself. If anything, he found people and things useful and amusing, maybe even tempting, but that was about it. Somehow he thought the Wraith had more honour and spunk than the Goa'uld could ever have. Not that he liked one more than the other, but at least the Wraiths' reasons for attacking them constantly and of conquering worlds was a little bit more excusable.

Usually her office hours were busy to say the least. Usually the sign-up sheet outside her office door was full of names, most of them keen on coming on the next research trip with her department, but today, a week after the semester had ended, she'd only had one appointment and after it she'd had enough time to make a new pot of coffee and answer five e-mails. Maybe word had gotten around that this was her last semester in New York. She'd already sent out dozens of applications and would start having to go on interviews in a month or so.

Alex leaned back in her chair to go over the list of books the student wanted to use for his paper. Why did she offer such close work with her students? Other teachers didn't do that and their students passed as well.

She picked up her pen and started jotting down some additional names of authors the student might find interesting. The topic itself wasn't completely new, she must have read a thousand papers on the lost library of Alexandria, but that didn't mean she didn't like reading about it. This student would add another perspective and use a different angle, she realized. He'd mentioned it during their meeting, but only briefly, probably too afraid she'd dismiss his idea.

Well, he was wrong about that, wasn't he? Most first-semesters wrote about how terrible the loss of the magnificent library had been, and they were right to do so, because it wasn't entirely wrong. What most students didn't focus on was how most books hadn't been lost, just redistributed. The loss hadn't come all at once, but it'd taken hundreds of years for the collection to disappear as such, and the Christianization of the Roman Empire had played quite a big role in it. Ever since the philosophical school had been closed and its mostly Pagan teachers had dispersed, the magnificent works of Antiquity had slowly faded into the mist of historical inaccurary. If this student wanted to write about traces that could still be found today, then so be it. The read would prove to be more than interesting, she was already sure of that.

The knock at the door came as a surprise. She dropped the booklist back on her desk next to the drawing of the ruins of Trier and brushed her hair back. "Come in!"

The man who entered couldn't be a student. He had brown hair, blue eyes and was wearing a jacket, a shirt and even a tie. Another clue that he was no student. He must be in his mid-twenties and didn't look in the least bit uncomfortable entering a teacher's office. "Doctor Woolston?"

Alex nodded and got to her feet. "Yes?" She stepped around her desk and accepted the man's hand.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you. I'm Doctor Daniel Jackson. You sent me some lab results a few weeks ago?"

"Doctor…" Alex trailed off and stared at him with her eyes wide open and for a moment nearly forgot to return his handshake. "No, you're not interrupting! Come on in, take a seat. Would you like some coffee?"

Doctor Jackson nodded and smiled at her. "Sure, if you have any."

Alex nodded. She'd sent that e-mail three weeks ago, a day after she'd gotten the results of the carbon dating. She hadn't shown the results to anybody else. Not yet. It sounded too incredible to be true. She gestured to the chair in front of her desk, then walked over to the coffeemaker on top of one of the lower bookshelves..

"What're you working on?" he asked and Alex found him looking at the booklist she'd just dropped on the table.

"A student of mine gave me his booklist and I agreed to take a look at it. Sounds interesting. Some crossover between Church History, Roman History and some criminology. A bit too ambitious, maybe, but… you know." She smiled vaguely at him as she poured a mug for him and for herself. "Milk and sugar?"

Doctor Jackson grinned and shrugged. "Black, thanks. So, are you going to advise him to do his research on something else?"

Alex put the fresh mug in front of him and sat down at her desk. "No. I mean, he studied Theology before this, so he has some experience doing this kind of stuff."

With another nod, Jackson reached for his coffee.

"So, what brings you here?" She had to admit, after he hadn't replied after a few days, she'd given up on ever hearing back from him. "I have a computer, you know? And my own e-mail address."

Jackson laughed softly and nodded. "Yes, I know, but I thought this had better be done face to face. First of all, thanks. It means a lot. Not a lot of people still think of my research, let alone take it seriously." He put the mug back down and pushed his glasses up his nose. He was handsome, Alex realized. She hadn't expected that. She hadn't paid too much attention to him five years ago, but she'd admired his courage and enthusiasm, she had to admit that.

"The results took me by surprise to say the least," she answered and cocked her head. He seemed excited, but not too surprised by her find. "I was there during your lecture in here New York. Must've been the last one you ever gave?"

Jackson didn't take it too hard. He shrugged. "I've been busy."

Alex nodded. "I figured. Doing what?"

Pulling a face, Jackson reached for his mug, took a sip and a long time putting it down again. "Doctor Woolston, are you happy teaching here?"

What kind of question was that? She leaned back. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, your research has been impressive to say the least. You've been on more digs than I have ever been, your insight into cults in the Babylonian age and all in all the middle-eastern region caught my attention some time ago."

"Thank you? I guess?" She looked into those blue eyes and wondered what was going on here. "And what does that have to do with the artefact which could confirm all your theories?"

Jackson's mouth twitched up into a smile. "I've come to offer you a job."

"A job?" Alex barely kept herself from laughing. Doctor Daniel Jackson had come to offer her a job? Well, it might not be the worst of ideas, after all, this was her last semester here in New York. "Doctor Jackson, you vanished from the face of the Earth. Don't take this the wrong way, but I really don't want to do that too. My career's going quite well. Whatever it is you're doing, clearly doesn't involve-"

Jackson raised his hand, asking her to be quiet for a moment with a single gesture. He reached into his bag and slapped a file on her desk. With a frown, Alex looked at the seal of the United States Air Force. "What's this?"

"A non-disclosure agreement. Sign it, and I'll tell you all you want to know about the job. Believe me, you won't regret it."

Ronda arrived two days later, accompanied by three more guards. Evan dropped the drawings he'd made on the spare pieces of paper which had been given to Alex and was right behind her as Ronda gestured for them to get out of the door.

Neither of them spoke a word as they were led down the sets of stairs again, past the ring platform and down several mor flights of stairs. When they finally emerged into a bigger room and through it got into a courtyard covered by a massive dome made out of stained glass. The breath caught in her chest the second she stepped out of the big room and perceived the octagonal shape of the place and the stained-glass windows looking into the courtyard. More octagonal shapes there. She'd almost nudged Evan's arm. He must recognize it, too.

Alex's eyes fell on Ba'al, who was standing in the centre of the octagon, the multi coloured light streaming in through the dome above making him look softer somehow. It was a disturbing sight to say the least.

"Impressed?"

She didn't answer as she and Evan approached him. "You didn't build this," she said. None of this, not the architecture of the rooms or the corridors resembled Goa'uld architecture. The rings had also been used by the Ancients before and they were easily accessed by the Goa'uld version. "So, I guess it's safe to say that I am."

"You recognize it?" He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms behind his back, looking even more smug and satisfied with himself. He was wearing brown today, but he hadn't forgone any of the gold embroidery. Of course he hadn't.

"Castel del Monte," Evan said quietly, shifting uncomfortably. "Looks an awful lot like that place."

About a week into their relationship they'd watched a documentary on it. It'd been built by Emperor Friedrich II and its curious octagonal shape made it an intriguing study for historians. Apparently this place might very well hold all the answers which every medievalist could hope for.

Ba'al nodded, apparently satisfied. He waved his hand over the central octagonal tile and a stele shot up and came to a stop right beneath Ba'al's palm. "I found the address to this place in an Ancient outpost in the Milky Way," he said, turning to look at her. He waved over the sleek black top of the stele and the glass dome darkened immediately. A clear white light erupted from the centre of the stele and Alex held her breath when the three Alien alphabets appeared up on the ceiling. "Without the Ancient gene I would never have been able to access this, so, thank you."

Alex balled her hands into fists and shook her head. "You want me to translate that? I thought you were so clever. Can't you do it on your own?"

"I suppose I could, but it'd work a lot faster with your cooperation. I can count on that, can't I? I could really do with the information this yields. I have deciphered the Ancient writing of course, the Nox still poses some problems, and you spent the better part of the past year working on the third script. What have you found out?"

Alex swallowed hard. There was a reason Ba'al had brought Evan along. There was a reason he looked her in the eye now and then dropped his gaze to her belly.

"Well?"

"Do you have transcripts?" she asked and Ba'al grinned triumphantly. "I do. And together," he said, "we'll figure out this riddle of the construction of Zero Point Modules."

A/N: So... we're about to find out a bit more about those steles. What do you think? And I really needed to include this flashback. It combines Alex's excitement for history with her current job and I don't doubt she keeps wondering how she ended up here. Ready for Evan's story in the next chapter or the one after that?