Author's note: This is my first foray into Stargate fiction, (my usual
playground is Babylon 5 or Crusade), so please be kind as I am still
feeling my way around hereg
I'll post more as the story comes back from my beta.
Feedback always welcome.
Archaeologist's holiday
Chapter 1
Only the buzz of Daniel's shaver disturbed the quiet of his apartment. Outside, traffic was still slow, the sun having yet to rise above the city. Sleep held no attraction for him, but then neither did the daylight hours.
He glanced quickly at the mirror, trying to avoid the reflection of his tired eyes. But once caught, he found himself locked to the image. There were dark circles under his eyes that, so far at least, had only garnered the odd concerned look from the rest of the team. He knew it wouldn't be long before one of them tackled him about late nights and lack of sleep. But that wasn't it, wasn't it at all. For the last month or more he had felt reluctant to do anything.
A week before, sitting in his cramped office hundreds of feet within the mountain, he had begun to feel claustrophobic. All around him, shelves littered with years of research had seemed to be closing in, taking the recycled air out of his lungs. He had lunged to his feet, racing out into the corridor with his heart beating nineteen to the dozen, sweat forming across his suddenly chill skin. Thankfully no one had been traversing the corridor to witness his sudden explosive exit. After a few minutes his pulse had returned to normal, the pounding in his temples had dropped to a faint thump, and his heart settled back to a normal rhythm. A panic attack, that was all it was – right?
Pupils, too wide in the morning light, accused him of more than that, and nor could he blame it on a steady diet of caffeine. The nightmare that had woken him early that day lingered in his memory long after it should have faded. Not that it was one particular dream that shattered his rest night after night. He ran a hand over his face, trying to wipe the thoughts from his mind. The frown that seemed to live permanently between his brows only increased. Perhaps it was the constant nag of an almost headache that contributed to the lines on his forehead that had only deepened as the months and years wore on.
For all of two minutes during that attack, while terrified out of his mind, he had contemplated running to the infirmary and Janet's care. The moment his symptoms had begun to subside however, he had banished that idea from his head. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate all that Doctor Fraiser had done for him over the years; heck, she had kept them all ticking over when by rights they should have been invalided or worse. Nightmares? No, he wasn't going to her with those. Panic attacks? Nope, he couldn't face the thought of Dr McKenzie delving into his mind again any time soon. White walls, soft flooring and the glare of artificial lights suddenly burst into his consciousness.
Damn, he thought he had put that behind him. Closing his eyes against the living image, he forced his thoughts away from that piece of his history, instead searching for something more pleasant to dwell upon. Sam's birthday yesterday, that was it.
The pleasure on her face when, after their debriefing, General Hammond had given a curt order and within moments a large birthday cake had been brought in. Jack's "Carter, is there something you haven't told us?" made his mouth twitch with remembered amusement.
Jack and Teal'c had already arranged a little surprise of their own for later in the day. Daniel had been a little dubious about the treat, after all Sam had said nothing about her birthday this year, probably because she didn't trust the Colonel after the last few 'surprises'. This year though, they had actually got her something she really wanted. Even now it sat in her lab, still in its box. Daniel couldn't remember what it was called, something to do with spectography? He wasn't sure, he only knew that the item wasn't available on this planet, and that Jack had done some fast talking to squeeze it out of the inhabitants on P3X 996. It was safe to say that the gizmo could do no harm, couldn't be used as a weapon of any kind, which was probably how he had got away with it. But Daniel had practically heard the wheels go round as Jack had watched Sam almost drool over the off limits technology. That had been some six months before, and Jack and Teal'c had been planning since then.
His own gift had been something much more personal. She had stared at him with wonder, as though he had given her the secret to time-travel. The necklace was nothing elaborate, but it was ancient, probably belonged in a museum if the truth were told; but jewellery was meant to be worn, and this piece had had no owner for thousands of years. His parents had dug it up when he was just a child, the gold twist that sat against the neck, the inserts of lapis and amber that glowed against warm skin. The stones delicately carved with lotus blossoms. He had forgotten about it until he had finally started to unpack the boxes that had sat in the corner of his apartment for months. The warmth of her arms about him as she hugged him tight, the genuine pleasure he had felt in her kiss on his cheek had stayed with him until he had reached home. He had gone to bed full of contented thoughts and a mild buzz of alcohol, and then he had dreamt.
The drive to work was enlivened by a torrential downpour that seemed to suck any warmth from the air and made it hard to see the road ahead. He took it slow, making his way up to the facility with a reluctance that was only encouraged by the weather. Even though he was early, he saw Jack's four wheel drive parked ahead of him. He got out slowly, not wanting to bump into any of the others just yet, his head stilled buzzed from the dream that seemed to now follow him into his days. Hearing the thud of the elevator doors, he picked up speed, nodding to security as he made his way to the double doors.
Turning the corner, expecting to find the corridor empty, he found that the colonel was still standing at the elevator doors. It was too late to turn back now, Jack had seen him, so, putting on a wan smile that he felt slip almost right away, he made his way to join his team leader.
"Morning, Daniel."
"Jack."
They waited in silence for the few moments it took for the elevator to return to the surface. The two men stepped in side by side; Daniel with his eyes on the floor, the walls, anywhere but at Jack.
"Everything okay, Daniel? You're in early this morning." The underlying concern in Jack's voice, made Daniel wince. They were all a little protective of one another, but sometimes the colonel's acuteness when it came to him was down right unnerving.
"Fine, sorry, a little lost in thought. Lots of work waiting for me. SG5 brought back some interesting footage, could be Mayan…" He rambled on for a moment longer, knowing that Jack would phase out what he was saying sooner rather than later. It worked; he saw the frown hover over the older man's brow, the hand coming up to wave away his explanation.
They parted at the exit, after Daniel had passed on joining Jack for breakfast, claiming he had had something earlier. He hadn't, but Jack didn't need to know that or he would drag him off willing or no.
The office he had been assigned when he first joined the SGC was now crammed to the ceiling with artefacts, videos from earlier missions, and piles and piles of reference books. For the last few years this room had felt more like home than his apartment had, and what did that say about him he wondered? When he had lived on Abydos, his life had not been restricted to four walls, he had joined the community, become one with the people, when had he become so insular?
The only people he interacted with now were the personnel at the base, and his fellow team-mates. Oh, and the odd alien race that didn't want to kill them, use, them or generally look down on the human race. He sighed, much as he cared for Jack, Teal'c and Sam he missed the interaction with his peers, though of course he didn't really have anyone outside the mountain to whom he could discuss anything. How easy it would be to let slip that on a certain planet he had seen something that totally turned a particular historical absolute on its head.
Flicking on the computer, waiting for the screen to load, he headed to the commissary to fill his bottomless cup with caffeine-laden coffee. Sam's brilliant smile met him half way there and he couldn't help returning it.
"You look a little worse for wear, Daniel, everything okay?"
"Drank a little too much alcohol last night. You're here early."
Sam's smile twinkled again and she looked vaguely sheepish. "The colonel's gift, I just wanted to set it up. Some of the samples that we brought back last week should be much easier to analyse now I, we, have the right equipment."
"Have fun." Daniel watched her head, all eagerness, toward her lab. Today, he felt as old as some of the pieces that littered his office and home, somewhere over the last few months he had lost his enthusiasm for the job. He had walked through the last couple of off world missions; there had been nothing there to interest an archaeologist, let alone a linguist. Barren worlds, long deserted, mass destruction visible in every direction with nothing to indicate what civilisation might have lived there. He had been trained all his life to live with the dead, but now…
In the commissary there were still a few people having a late breakfast. Talk ranged from the ball game the night before to the current off world missions - and then one conversation filtered into his brain. "Yeah, we always get away that time of year, the beaches are great, miles of sand and hardly anyone else around. You should try it!"
When was the last time he had had a holiday? That dig out at Giza maybe, or was it helping with the restoration work in the Cairo Museum? It was long before that disastrous talk he had given to an empty hall. Of course that had led to the SGC and Abydos, and the woman who lived still in his heart though she was gone from his world. 'Don't go there' he berated himself. The sudden grip on his heart slackened a little as he forced his anguish back into the corner of his mind where all the pain of his life was stored.
Suitably filled with extra strong coffee, Daniel started on the first of the footage brought back for his attention. Three hours later, eyes aching from too much screen work, the headache was back. Each member of the team had been by during that time; each had received a less than warm welcome and had gone away puzzled. Daniel, after all, was one of the easiest going of the whole SGC.
Having pushed his door too, an almost unprecedented occurrence, he had not expected to be disturbed again, so when the door swung open, his short- tempered "Now what!" seemed to hang heavy in the air.
General Hammond stopped on the edge of entering the room, his pale eyes surveying his sometimes-wayward civilian.
"Oh, sorry General, I didn't realise it was you. I've been a little busy and it just seemed… anyway, sorry."
Hammond observed Daniel for a moment longer then, stepping into the room he shut the door behind him. Daniel's pulse rate went up a notch, the general didn't come to you, you went to him.
"It's come to my attention Doctor Jackson, that you are getting a little behind in your work. Not your fault I know," the general put up a hand forestalling Daniel's imminent rebuttal. "I've been given a bit more on the budget to hire another translator, I want your opinion."
Daniel, the wind effectively taken out of his sails, sat down with a thud at his desk. "Well, um, anything I can do. You have someone in mind? A list of possibles?"
Hammond handed over a list of candidates and turned to go. "I want your recommendations as soon as possible, Doctor."
"Right. No problem…"
For a long moment he stared at the door, half expecting someone else to disturb him. After five minutes he let his gaze drop to the pages lying on his desk. Names leaped out at him, Thompson, Green, Mendoza, Phillips. All eminent men and women well respected in their relevant fields, and every one of them had been at that damned meeting. Only Janice Phillips had been willing to hear him out, well half way at least. He had kept up with the journals, had seen her name on some rather interesting papers; perhaps she had taken more on board that he had thought at the time. Reading down her bio, he noted with interest that she had recently been working on Mayan remains. His mouth quirked into a smile at the thought of taking her to visit Nick.
The old man had given up his crowded apartment a few months before. Though Nick had voluntarily taken up residence in the institution, his life's work had been housed in the small rooms he had purchased shortly after his first expedition to Egypt. Now that he was happily settled with his 'giant aliens' Nick had been adamant that his collection should go to Daniel. Some of the collection Daniel had given to the museum, other pieces he had held on to, and Nick's journals were on his shelf, here at the mountain. He hadn't liked to read them when Nick had first handed them over. He could hear his grandfather's voice echoing in his head even now. "Nonsense, my boy. After all the years I locked you out of my life, well it's about time you knew what I was doing. And one day, you never know, they might just be useful."
Considering where they had been, Nick's note books were in pretty good condition. One at least had been in the water; its green tinged pages were still legible though. Daniel pulled one down from the shelf, checked the dates and opened it. The Belize trip, the one that had sent Nick into the mental hospital and had given the SGC time to wonder if Daniel too might be a little touched.
It was an hour later when Daniel put down the first of the journals. Nick had an easy style of writing that made his travels seem to leap from the page in vivid scenes. The old man had done a lot with his life, though his main fascination had been for the Mayan civilisation. Their barbaric rituals had never appealed to Daniel, for him the love poetry of the ancient Egyptians held far more fascination.
Turning his attention back to his computer, he worked diligently onward transcribing the text from that morning. It was of little interest, revealing nothing that the SGC was not aware of, but it had to be done. In some ways having another linguist on board might not be a bad idea he mused. Boredom settled in him with insidious penetration, and he found his mind wandering away from his task.
Ten minutes later, Sam found him lost in thought, glasses tossed to one side, eyes gazing blankly at the rows of Nick Ballard's journals.
"Hey Daniel, got a minute?"
Snapping out of his reverie, the two front legs of his chair thudded back to the floor almost tipping him off its slippery seat. Daniel turned almost guiltily to survey his team-mate.
"Penny for them," Sam grinned, aware that she had caught the archaeologist in some private daydream.
"Might take a little more than that," he murmured then, catching her raised brow, continued, "just thinking about something, um, what can I do for you?"
"Actually it was more what I can do for you. Remember that cube of granite like material we brought back from our last trip?"
Daniel didn't, he'd been wandering around only half aware of what the others were doing. Sam always had an interest in the geological oddities, and he hadn't noticed that artefact in particular. He nodded his interest but still garnered a slightly suspicious look from her.
"Okay, well I think you might be interested in what I found."
They moved down the hall to Sam's lab; Sam in the lead, anxious to show off her new toy and the findings it had produced.
"Hey kids, whatcha doing?"
"Sam has been experimenting with the rock sample we brought back."
"Ah, the new gizmo I take it?" Jack's barely suppressed smile lurked in his eyes as he exchanged a knowing look with Daniel.
On a plastic slab in the centre of her worktable stood the lump of rock that had caused their colleague to become so excited. A perfect cube, obviously tool worked, it was perfectly plain. No marks had been discovered on any of its age-roughened sides, and it had only been its uniformity that had attracted Sam's notice in the first place, and the slightly strange pink cast to the otherwise ordinary colouring.
"Look here, sir." Directing O'Neill's attention to the monitor. There, in the dead centre of the block, was a sphere of dense metal.
"What is it?" Jack angled closer to the screen as if to clarify the image.
"I don't know. The readings indicate a heavy metal that I've not come across before. It's not a natural formation, of that I am certain; but what it does…" she shrugged.
"Is it dangerous?" the colonel asked her pointedly.
"I don't think so."
Daniel and Jack shared a look. "You don't think you should find out, major?"
"I've run every test on it that I can think of. No radiation of any kind is being emitted that our technology can detect."
"And your new doohicky here?" Jack's fingers rested lightly on the unassuming box.
Sam's head shook in denial. "Nothing, sir. I can't even penetrate the metal to see if it encloses anything else."
"Why would it, Sam?" Daniel asked, finally being drawn in by the mystery.
"Instinct I guess," she tossed him a frustrated smile, not really seeing him at all.
"The general know about this, this…thing?"
"Yes I do, colonel." The facility's leader entered the lab quietly. "What news, major?"
Sam went through her findings once more, unaware of Daniel's drifting attention.
"Well let's just open it up." Jack looked around the room for a suitable implement.
"Um, is that such a good idea, Jack? Remember the last time we tried breaking something open?"
The colonel gave his civilian a considered look, then shrugged. "Okay, maybe not such a good idea. What do you suggest, Carter?"
"Actually sir, I rather think that, under controlled conditions of course, that is our only option. This metal holds properties that could be of great value to us if we can only figure out what its components are."
"Well, I'll leave you to it then. Report as soon as you can, major."
As the general turned to leave he called to Daniel. "Doctor Jackson, have you had a chance to review that list I gave you?"
"Hum, oh, oh yes general. Can you give me till tomorrow? I want to check out a few things first if that's okay?"
Hammond nodded; his eyes narrowing for a moment as he noted the faraway look that had returned to the linguist's eyes.
***
Night had already closed in when Daniel left the facility. He had made sure he was the last to leave, waiting until Jack had poked his head in to say goodnight, before switching off his computer and rubbing tired eyes. Only Teal'c had disturbed him that afternoon. The jaffa had not made any comment on Daniel's listless appearance, the sag of his shoulders or the blown pupils indicating more than just fatigue. He had stood in the doorway, head tilted slightly to one side, saying not a word.
Daniel had looked up and caught the imperturbable gaze.
"Are you well Daniel Jackson?"
So even Teal'c had noticed. Daniel held back the sigh that threatened to escape him.
"I'm fine Teal'c, just a little busy, a little… distracted today."
Steady brown eyes drilled into him for a moment longer then, with a slight bow of his head, the jaffa was gone.
Now, hours later in the privacy of his apartment, he sat in the darkness watching the play of moonlight on the roofs opposite. The sky had cleared during the day making the night unseasonably cold, but he hadn't noticed. On the table sat all of Nick Ballard's journals, foremost the three books concerning the fateful trip to Belize. The trip that had ruined an eminent archaeologist's career and eventually saw him sign into a mental hospital because of his insistence that aliens existed. Of course he was now totally vindicated, not that he could tell the world. Still, Nick seemed deliriously content with his new occupation.
When had he last been truly happy? Daniel let his head rest back against the couch his eyes closing against the darkness. Abydos' hot sun lit his memories, the sounds of a thriving community, the calls of the children. Warm winds brushed his cheek as he watched Sha're walk toward him, her wonderful smile and soft brown eyes resting on him alone. Even now his heart beat a little faster at the thought of her. He wanted to keep that image in his heart for all eternity, but that warm vibrant woman was gone forever leaving him empty in places that no other loss had touched. Squeezing his eyes tighter he tried to stop the well of tears that forced their way through his control, gasping his pain he turned his face into the soft material of his couch and gave in to the grief that seemed destined to live with him forever.
The dream sped him from sleep a few hours later. Head aching, body cramped, he unwound himself from his uncomfortable place on the couch and stretched protesting muscles until he could feel the blood flow to his extremities. The temperature had dropped noticeably since he'd fallen asleep, enough to make him shiver in the darkness. Leaning behind him he lit the side lamp, wincing at its sudden glow, turning sharply away from the penetrating light. It had been one more variation on a theme, this dream that haunted him. Night after night he had found himself running to, or from, he could never decide which, some danger that threatened him and his companions. Every time he had been armed, sometimes with a zat, sometimes a pistol or machine gun, occasionally a staff weapon. And every time his dream ended with him having to use whatever weapon his subconscious had conjured up for him, and every time someone had died but he could never distinguish a face.
Troubled eyes rested on his fingers as he turned them over in the subdued lighting. He had killed more times than he wanted to remember, sent to hell his enemies with a blast of his weapon. He knew it had been kill or be killed, he could rationalise it as much as he wanted, but still… It was strange how those hands that were once more used to the delicate flick of a soft brush uncovering broken pottery could also wield the weapon that sent a soul to eternal damnation. Where were the bloody stains that should be etched into his skin? Where was the regret in his heart that he had killed without thinking? But they were the enemy, right? They had stolen the thing he loved most in the entire world, subverted her, destroyed her, made her just an empty husk.
But that didn't excuse what he had done to the Unas. Yes they were slaves, treated so badly that he had ached for them, but to give his weapon to Chakka, knowing full well that the creature's vengeance would probably wipe every human from the village! That had been so out of character that even Jack had eyed him askance, disbelief written in his eyes. Somewhere along the road he had lost himself, and with every mission, with every day that he hefted a gun in his hand instead of his notebook, was another day a part of his soul died. He didn't like what he had become; he didn't like it at all.
Sleep held no enticement for him even though he felt wrung out, exhausted. Leaning forward he picked up one of Nick's diaries at random, opening up the pages with care. Ah, the dig in the foothills, the futile search for Imhotep's tomb. Daniel had been thirteen then, the foster parents who had him in care that month had shown him the brief letter his grandfather had sent, wishing 'the boy' well. The old man had rambled on about his finds; not that he had discovered the legendary tomb, but a less exalted individual. The pages had been covered with scribbles that Daniel could decipher as hieroglyphs even then. Egypt had effectively killed his parents, had taken his grandfather from him, and yet the young boy had yearned for the desert with a passion. Left to his own devices most of the time, he had thrown himself into research. He had a natural gift for languages that had him shooting through the school system, whichever one he was currently in. His thirst for knowledge singled him out from the crowd, made him the butt of many cruel jokes, and yet he shrugged them off, burying himself in the past, not interested in the present. The call of Egypt was still almost overwhelming, though he knew he would never get on a dig now, not after his absence and certainly not after his 'outrageous' declarations. Who would accept him?
His eyes slid back to the three volumes that housed the Belize trip. Nick had been pretty thorough in his notes; both on the original trip and the ones he had made later, trying to rediscover the collapsed temple. What if…
I'll post more as the story comes back from my beta.
Feedback always welcome.
Archaeologist's holiday
Chapter 1
Only the buzz of Daniel's shaver disturbed the quiet of his apartment. Outside, traffic was still slow, the sun having yet to rise above the city. Sleep held no attraction for him, but then neither did the daylight hours.
He glanced quickly at the mirror, trying to avoid the reflection of his tired eyes. But once caught, he found himself locked to the image. There were dark circles under his eyes that, so far at least, had only garnered the odd concerned look from the rest of the team. He knew it wouldn't be long before one of them tackled him about late nights and lack of sleep. But that wasn't it, wasn't it at all. For the last month or more he had felt reluctant to do anything.
A week before, sitting in his cramped office hundreds of feet within the mountain, he had begun to feel claustrophobic. All around him, shelves littered with years of research had seemed to be closing in, taking the recycled air out of his lungs. He had lunged to his feet, racing out into the corridor with his heart beating nineteen to the dozen, sweat forming across his suddenly chill skin. Thankfully no one had been traversing the corridor to witness his sudden explosive exit. After a few minutes his pulse had returned to normal, the pounding in his temples had dropped to a faint thump, and his heart settled back to a normal rhythm. A panic attack, that was all it was – right?
Pupils, too wide in the morning light, accused him of more than that, and nor could he blame it on a steady diet of caffeine. The nightmare that had woken him early that day lingered in his memory long after it should have faded. Not that it was one particular dream that shattered his rest night after night. He ran a hand over his face, trying to wipe the thoughts from his mind. The frown that seemed to live permanently between his brows only increased. Perhaps it was the constant nag of an almost headache that contributed to the lines on his forehead that had only deepened as the months and years wore on.
For all of two minutes during that attack, while terrified out of his mind, he had contemplated running to the infirmary and Janet's care. The moment his symptoms had begun to subside however, he had banished that idea from his head. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate all that Doctor Fraiser had done for him over the years; heck, she had kept them all ticking over when by rights they should have been invalided or worse. Nightmares? No, he wasn't going to her with those. Panic attacks? Nope, he couldn't face the thought of Dr McKenzie delving into his mind again any time soon. White walls, soft flooring and the glare of artificial lights suddenly burst into his consciousness.
Damn, he thought he had put that behind him. Closing his eyes against the living image, he forced his thoughts away from that piece of his history, instead searching for something more pleasant to dwell upon. Sam's birthday yesterday, that was it.
The pleasure on her face when, after their debriefing, General Hammond had given a curt order and within moments a large birthday cake had been brought in. Jack's "Carter, is there something you haven't told us?" made his mouth twitch with remembered amusement.
Jack and Teal'c had already arranged a little surprise of their own for later in the day. Daniel had been a little dubious about the treat, after all Sam had said nothing about her birthday this year, probably because she didn't trust the Colonel after the last few 'surprises'. This year though, they had actually got her something she really wanted. Even now it sat in her lab, still in its box. Daniel couldn't remember what it was called, something to do with spectography? He wasn't sure, he only knew that the item wasn't available on this planet, and that Jack had done some fast talking to squeeze it out of the inhabitants on P3X 996. It was safe to say that the gizmo could do no harm, couldn't be used as a weapon of any kind, which was probably how he had got away with it. But Daniel had practically heard the wheels go round as Jack had watched Sam almost drool over the off limits technology. That had been some six months before, and Jack and Teal'c had been planning since then.
His own gift had been something much more personal. She had stared at him with wonder, as though he had given her the secret to time-travel. The necklace was nothing elaborate, but it was ancient, probably belonged in a museum if the truth were told; but jewellery was meant to be worn, and this piece had had no owner for thousands of years. His parents had dug it up when he was just a child, the gold twist that sat against the neck, the inserts of lapis and amber that glowed against warm skin. The stones delicately carved with lotus blossoms. He had forgotten about it until he had finally started to unpack the boxes that had sat in the corner of his apartment for months. The warmth of her arms about him as she hugged him tight, the genuine pleasure he had felt in her kiss on his cheek had stayed with him until he had reached home. He had gone to bed full of contented thoughts and a mild buzz of alcohol, and then he had dreamt.
The drive to work was enlivened by a torrential downpour that seemed to suck any warmth from the air and made it hard to see the road ahead. He took it slow, making his way up to the facility with a reluctance that was only encouraged by the weather. Even though he was early, he saw Jack's four wheel drive parked ahead of him. He got out slowly, not wanting to bump into any of the others just yet, his head stilled buzzed from the dream that seemed to now follow him into his days. Hearing the thud of the elevator doors, he picked up speed, nodding to security as he made his way to the double doors.
Turning the corner, expecting to find the corridor empty, he found that the colonel was still standing at the elevator doors. It was too late to turn back now, Jack had seen him, so, putting on a wan smile that he felt slip almost right away, he made his way to join his team leader.
"Morning, Daniel."
"Jack."
They waited in silence for the few moments it took for the elevator to return to the surface. The two men stepped in side by side; Daniel with his eyes on the floor, the walls, anywhere but at Jack.
"Everything okay, Daniel? You're in early this morning." The underlying concern in Jack's voice, made Daniel wince. They were all a little protective of one another, but sometimes the colonel's acuteness when it came to him was down right unnerving.
"Fine, sorry, a little lost in thought. Lots of work waiting for me. SG5 brought back some interesting footage, could be Mayan…" He rambled on for a moment longer, knowing that Jack would phase out what he was saying sooner rather than later. It worked; he saw the frown hover over the older man's brow, the hand coming up to wave away his explanation.
They parted at the exit, after Daniel had passed on joining Jack for breakfast, claiming he had had something earlier. He hadn't, but Jack didn't need to know that or he would drag him off willing or no.
The office he had been assigned when he first joined the SGC was now crammed to the ceiling with artefacts, videos from earlier missions, and piles and piles of reference books. For the last few years this room had felt more like home than his apartment had, and what did that say about him he wondered? When he had lived on Abydos, his life had not been restricted to four walls, he had joined the community, become one with the people, when had he become so insular?
The only people he interacted with now were the personnel at the base, and his fellow team-mates. Oh, and the odd alien race that didn't want to kill them, use, them or generally look down on the human race. He sighed, much as he cared for Jack, Teal'c and Sam he missed the interaction with his peers, though of course he didn't really have anyone outside the mountain to whom he could discuss anything. How easy it would be to let slip that on a certain planet he had seen something that totally turned a particular historical absolute on its head.
Flicking on the computer, waiting for the screen to load, he headed to the commissary to fill his bottomless cup with caffeine-laden coffee. Sam's brilliant smile met him half way there and he couldn't help returning it.
"You look a little worse for wear, Daniel, everything okay?"
"Drank a little too much alcohol last night. You're here early."
Sam's smile twinkled again and she looked vaguely sheepish. "The colonel's gift, I just wanted to set it up. Some of the samples that we brought back last week should be much easier to analyse now I, we, have the right equipment."
"Have fun." Daniel watched her head, all eagerness, toward her lab. Today, he felt as old as some of the pieces that littered his office and home, somewhere over the last few months he had lost his enthusiasm for the job. He had walked through the last couple of off world missions; there had been nothing there to interest an archaeologist, let alone a linguist. Barren worlds, long deserted, mass destruction visible in every direction with nothing to indicate what civilisation might have lived there. He had been trained all his life to live with the dead, but now…
In the commissary there were still a few people having a late breakfast. Talk ranged from the ball game the night before to the current off world missions - and then one conversation filtered into his brain. "Yeah, we always get away that time of year, the beaches are great, miles of sand and hardly anyone else around. You should try it!"
When was the last time he had had a holiday? That dig out at Giza maybe, or was it helping with the restoration work in the Cairo Museum? It was long before that disastrous talk he had given to an empty hall. Of course that had led to the SGC and Abydos, and the woman who lived still in his heart though she was gone from his world. 'Don't go there' he berated himself. The sudden grip on his heart slackened a little as he forced his anguish back into the corner of his mind where all the pain of his life was stored.
Suitably filled with extra strong coffee, Daniel started on the first of the footage brought back for his attention. Three hours later, eyes aching from too much screen work, the headache was back. Each member of the team had been by during that time; each had received a less than warm welcome and had gone away puzzled. Daniel, after all, was one of the easiest going of the whole SGC.
Having pushed his door too, an almost unprecedented occurrence, he had not expected to be disturbed again, so when the door swung open, his short- tempered "Now what!" seemed to hang heavy in the air.
General Hammond stopped on the edge of entering the room, his pale eyes surveying his sometimes-wayward civilian.
"Oh, sorry General, I didn't realise it was you. I've been a little busy and it just seemed… anyway, sorry."
Hammond observed Daniel for a moment longer then, stepping into the room he shut the door behind him. Daniel's pulse rate went up a notch, the general didn't come to you, you went to him.
"It's come to my attention Doctor Jackson, that you are getting a little behind in your work. Not your fault I know," the general put up a hand forestalling Daniel's imminent rebuttal. "I've been given a bit more on the budget to hire another translator, I want your opinion."
Daniel, the wind effectively taken out of his sails, sat down with a thud at his desk. "Well, um, anything I can do. You have someone in mind? A list of possibles?"
Hammond handed over a list of candidates and turned to go. "I want your recommendations as soon as possible, Doctor."
"Right. No problem…"
For a long moment he stared at the door, half expecting someone else to disturb him. After five minutes he let his gaze drop to the pages lying on his desk. Names leaped out at him, Thompson, Green, Mendoza, Phillips. All eminent men and women well respected in their relevant fields, and every one of them had been at that damned meeting. Only Janice Phillips had been willing to hear him out, well half way at least. He had kept up with the journals, had seen her name on some rather interesting papers; perhaps she had taken more on board that he had thought at the time. Reading down her bio, he noted with interest that she had recently been working on Mayan remains. His mouth quirked into a smile at the thought of taking her to visit Nick.
The old man had given up his crowded apartment a few months before. Though Nick had voluntarily taken up residence in the institution, his life's work had been housed in the small rooms he had purchased shortly after his first expedition to Egypt. Now that he was happily settled with his 'giant aliens' Nick had been adamant that his collection should go to Daniel. Some of the collection Daniel had given to the museum, other pieces he had held on to, and Nick's journals were on his shelf, here at the mountain. He hadn't liked to read them when Nick had first handed them over. He could hear his grandfather's voice echoing in his head even now. "Nonsense, my boy. After all the years I locked you out of my life, well it's about time you knew what I was doing. And one day, you never know, they might just be useful."
Considering where they had been, Nick's note books were in pretty good condition. One at least had been in the water; its green tinged pages were still legible though. Daniel pulled one down from the shelf, checked the dates and opened it. The Belize trip, the one that had sent Nick into the mental hospital and had given the SGC time to wonder if Daniel too might be a little touched.
It was an hour later when Daniel put down the first of the journals. Nick had an easy style of writing that made his travels seem to leap from the page in vivid scenes. The old man had done a lot with his life, though his main fascination had been for the Mayan civilisation. Their barbaric rituals had never appealed to Daniel, for him the love poetry of the ancient Egyptians held far more fascination.
Turning his attention back to his computer, he worked diligently onward transcribing the text from that morning. It was of little interest, revealing nothing that the SGC was not aware of, but it had to be done. In some ways having another linguist on board might not be a bad idea he mused. Boredom settled in him with insidious penetration, and he found his mind wandering away from his task.
Ten minutes later, Sam found him lost in thought, glasses tossed to one side, eyes gazing blankly at the rows of Nick Ballard's journals.
"Hey Daniel, got a minute?"
Snapping out of his reverie, the two front legs of his chair thudded back to the floor almost tipping him off its slippery seat. Daniel turned almost guiltily to survey his team-mate.
"Penny for them," Sam grinned, aware that she had caught the archaeologist in some private daydream.
"Might take a little more than that," he murmured then, catching her raised brow, continued, "just thinking about something, um, what can I do for you?"
"Actually it was more what I can do for you. Remember that cube of granite like material we brought back from our last trip?"
Daniel didn't, he'd been wandering around only half aware of what the others were doing. Sam always had an interest in the geological oddities, and he hadn't noticed that artefact in particular. He nodded his interest but still garnered a slightly suspicious look from her.
"Okay, well I think you might be interested in what I found."
They moved down the hall to Sam's lab; Sam in the lead, anxious to show off her new toy and the findings it had produced.
"Hey kids, whatcha doing?"
"Sam has been experimenting with the rock sample we brought back."
"Ah, the new gizmo I take it?" Jack's barely suppressed smile lurked in his eyes as he exchanged a knowing look with Daniel.
On a plastic slab in the centre of her worktable stood the lump of rock that had caused their colleague to become so excited. A perfect cube, obviously tool worked, it was perfectly plain. No marks had been discovered on any of its age-roughened sides, and it had only been its uniformity that had attracted Sam's notice in the first place, and the slightly strange pink cast to the otherwise ordinary colouring.
"Look here, sir." Directing O'Neill's attention to the monitor. There, in the dead centre of the block, was a sphere of dense metal.
"What is it?" Jack angled closer to the screen as if to clarify the image.
"I don't know. The readings indicate a heavy metal that I've not come across before. It's not a natural formation, of that I am certain; but what it does…" she shrugged.
"Is it dangerous?" the colonel asked her pointedly.
"I don't think so."
Daniel and Jack shared a look. "You don't think you should find out, major?"
"I've run every test on it that I can think of. No radiation of any kind is being emitted that our technology can detect."
"And your new doohicky here?" Jack's fingers rested lightly on the unassuming box.
Sam's head shook in denial. "Nothing, sir. I can't even penetrate the metal to see if it encloses anything else."
"Why would it, Sam?" Daniel asked, finally being drawn in by the mystery.
"Instinct I guess," she tossed him a frustrated smile, not really seeing him at all.
"The general know about this, this…thing?"
"Yes I do, colonel." The facility's leader entered the lab quietly. "What news, major?"
Sam went through her findings once more, unaware of Daniel's drifting attention.
"Well let's just open it up." Jack looked around the room for a suitable implement.
"Um, is that such a good idea, Jack? Remember the last time we tried breaking something open?"
The colonel gave his civilian a considered look, then shrugged. "Okay, maybe not such a good idea. What do you suggest, Carter?"
"Actually sir, I rather think that, under controlled conditions of course, that is our only option. This metal holds properties that could be of great value to us if we can only figure out what its components are."
"Well, I'll leave you to it then. Report as soon as you can, major."
As the general turned to leave he called to Daniel. "Doctor Jackson, have you had a chance to review that list I gave you?"
"Hum, oh, oh yes general. Can you give me till tomorrow? I want to check out a few things first if that's okay?"
Hammond nodded; his eyes narrowing for a moment as he noted the faraway look that had returned to the linguist's eyes.
***
Night had already closed in when Daniel left the facility. He had made sure he was the last to leave, waiting until Jack had poked his head in to say goodnight, before switching off his computer and rubbing tired eyes. Only Teal'c had disturbed him that afternoon. The jaffa had not made any comment on Daniel's listless appearance, the sag of his shoulders or the blown pupils indicating more than just fatigue. He had stood in the doorway, head tilted slightly to one side, saying not a word.
Daniel had looked up and caught the imperturbable gaze.
"Are you well Daniel Jackson?"
So even Teal'c had noticed. Daniel held back the sigh that threatened to escape him.
"I'm fine Teal'c, just a little busy, a little… distracted today."
Steady brown eyes drilled into him for a moment longer then, with a slight bow of his head, the jaffa was gone.
Now, hours later in the privacy of his apartment, he sat in the darkness watching the play of moonlight on the roofs opposite. The sky had cleared during the day making the night unseasonably cold, but he hadn't noticed. On the table sat all of Nick Ballard's journals, foremost the three books concerning the fateful trip to Belize. The trip that had ruined an eminent archaeologist's career and eventually saw him sign into a mental hospital because of his insistence that aliens existed. Of course he was now totally vindicated, not that he could tell the world. Still, Nick seemed deliriously content with his new occupation.
When had he last been truly happy? Daniel let his head rest back against the couch his eyes closing against the darkness. Abydos' hot sun lit his memories, the sounds of a thriving community, the calls of the children. Warm winds brushed his cheek as he watched Sha're walk toward him, her wonderful smile and soft brown eyes resting on him alone. Even now his heart beat a little faster at the thought of her. He wanted to keep that image in his heart for all eternity, but that warm vibrant woman was gone forever leaving him empty in places that no other loss had touched. Squeezing his eyes tighter he tried to stop the well of tears that forced their way through his control, gasping his pain he turned his face into the soft material of his couch and gave in to the grief that seemed destined to live with him forever.
The dream sped him from sleep a few hours later. Head aching, body cramped, he unwound himself from his uncomfortable place on the couch and stretched protesting muscles until he could feel the blood flow to his extremities. The temperature had dropped noticeably since he'd fallen asleep, enough to make him shiver in the darkness. Leaning behind him he lit the side lamp, wincing at its sudden glow, turning sharply away from the penetrating light. It had been one more variation on a theme, this dream that haunted him. Night after night he had found himself running to, or from, he could never decide which, some danger that threatened him and his companions. Every time he had been armed, sometimes with a zat, sometimes a pistol or machine gun, occasionally a staff weapon. And every time his dream ended with him having to use whatever weapon his subconscious had conjured up for him, and every time someone had died but he could never distinguish a face.
Troubled eyes rested on his fingers as he turned them over in the subdued lighting. He had killed more times than he wanted to remember, sent to hell his enemies with a blast of his weapon. He knew it had been kill or be killed, he could rationalise it as much as he wanted, but still… It was strange how those hands that were once more used to the delicate flick of a soft brush uncovering broken pottery could also wield the weapon that sent a soul to eternal damnation. Where were the bloody stains that should be etched into his skin? Where was the regret in his heart that he had killed without thinking? But they were the enemy, right? They had stolen the thing he loved most in the entire world, subverted her, destroyed her, made her just an empty husk.
But that didn't excuse what he had done to the Unas. Yes they were slaves, treated so badly that he had ached for them, but to give his weapon to Chakka, knowing full well that the creature's vengeance would probably wipe every human from the village! That had been so out of character that even Jack had eyed him askance, disbelief written in his eyes. Somewhere along the road he had lost himself, and with every mission, with every day that he hefted a gun in his hand instead of his notebook, was another day a part of his soul died. He didn't like what he had become; he didn't like it at all.
Sleep held no enticement for him even though he felt wrung out, exhausted. Leaning forward he picked up one of Nick's diaries at random, opening up the pages with care. Ah, the dig in the foothills, the futile search for Imhotep's tomb. Daniel had been thirteen then, the foster parents who had him in care that month had shown him the brief letter his grandfather had sent, wishing 'the boy' well. The old man had rambled on about his finds; not that he had discovered the legendary tomb, but a less exalted individual. The pages had been covered with scribbles that Daniel could decipher as hieroglyphs even then. Egypt had effectively killed his parents, had taken his grandfather from him, and yet the young boy had yearned for the desert with a passion. Left to his own devices most of the time, he had thrown himself into research. He had a natural gift for languages that had him shooting through the school system, whichever one he was currently in. His thirst for knowledge singled him out from the crowd, made him the butt of many cruel jokes, and yet he shrugged them off, burying himself in the past, not interested in the present. The call of Egypt was still almost overwhelming, though he knew he would never get on a dig now, not after his absence and certainly not after his 'outrageous' declarations. Who would accept him?
His eyes slid back to the three volumes that housed the Belize trip. Nick had been pretty thorough in his notes; both on the original trip and the ones he had made later, trying to rediscover the collapsed temple. What if…
