Chapter 3

The hotel lounge was cramped by American standards, but the tables outside on the veranda afforded a scenic view of the coast and a hint of trees in the distance. From all around him came the lilting sound of Spanish being spoken, and occasionally an almost understandable Mayan dialect that tickled his linguistic senses. The moment Daniel had stepped out of the airport he had breathed easier. For some reason he had felt that at any moment, he could be recalled. Hammond would change his mind, Carter would corner him one last time, or Teal'c would follow him with those intense eyes. As for Jack, well, things would need to be patched up between them when he returned. He hadn't meant to be so abrupt with the older man. Their friendship was something that he valued highly, but there were times when Jack just annoyed the hell out of him. He had, right up until the last minute, tried to talk Daniel out of going on the trip. No reasons given, just that blank look that the colonel could assume at will, and the request that Daniel stay.

"Could I get some more coffee, please?" His accent, slightly out of kilter with the natives, was still perfectly understandable. It had been a long time since he had studied the language, and yet sitting here, listening to the varied dialects, he felt it soaking back into him like rain on fertile soil. Behind him, at reception, he could hear the soft murmur of voices. Hearing his own name mentioned he turned. The receptionist was still pointing in his direction as he looked. Then, weaving her way between the overstuffed chairs and death trap side tables strode a woman who exuded youth. The slim, athletic legs were hardly hidden by a short summer dress that highlighted her curvaceous figure. It wasn't until she was almost at his table that he realised she was not as young as he first thought.

He sprang to his feet as she made a beeline for him, hand outstretched. "Doctor Jackson?" Her voice was soft with the musical lilt of her native tongue.

"Daniel Jackson, yes, that's me…" His voice trailed off into a question, eyebrows raised.

"I'm Victoria Ramirez." She waited a second. "You requested me as your guide."

"I thought…um, look, take a seat for a moment. Would you like coffee or something?"

"No, thank you. Is something wrong, Doctor Jackson?"

Where to start? This vision with the sun-kissed honey coloured hair and sparkling hazel eyes was not what he had expected. On going through Nick's books his grandfather had been full of his guide, one Vick Ramirez. Younger than himself, still Nick had trusted the man implicitly. The terrain had been well away from the few temples and tourist areas, and yet Vick had been more than competent. The two of them had returned and searched during each dry season for years to find Nick's lost temple, and though the older man's notes had been copious they had been unsuccessful.

Daniel explained what had happened."… and so you see I am not sure if you can help or not. I really need Vick, or someone with whom he may have shared that journeys details."

Victoria crossed her legs and sat back in the wicker chair, her eyes half closed as she contemplated the man seated opposite her.

"I was named for my grandfather, Doctor Jackson."

"Call me Daniel," he murmured.

"My grandfather was one of the best guides in the whole region. Anywhere you wanted to go, he could take you. And as I got older, I would travel with him and my father. There is little of the jungle that I do not know, Doctor Jackson. My grandfather also kept journals that he bequeathed to my father; I will look back through them to see if he kept notes of Nick Ballard. I am sure I have heard his name before."

There was a small frown between her brows, then it suddenly cleared. "Nicholas Ballard, yes? Aliens from space?" There was a smile now hovering on her softly tanned face.

Daniel grimaced. "Yeah, that's the one. Look, whatever he found out there was unique. I'd like to retrace his steps if I can, see where he was and perhaps find the rest of the remains."

"You realise that the jungle claims these fallen temples in a matter of years? Your grandfather and mine explored this site two decades ago, there may be little left to find."

Daniel shrugged, "I know, but I'd like to try. The Mayan culture was my grandfather's speciality, not mine, but I've studied it and read his journals. I hope between us we can uncover a new truth."

One well-defined finger pointed at him as her expression mirrored suddenly recalled memories. "Doctor Daniel Jackson. Washington lectures about five or six years ago. I remember you now. Egypt was your interest, though, and if I remember correctly, you also believed in aliens."

Ah shit, he thought. He had hoped that here at least his ill-fated past wouldn't catch up with him. "Yeah, well that was a long time ago. Things have changed for me since then. Look, if you think you can take me on the same trail, then that's fine by me."

She nodded, "Your money is as good as anyone's, Doctor Jackson. Give me till the morning to look back over my grandfather's notes then we can start off first thing tomorrow. Pack light, we will have to carry our rations with us, unless you want to hire porters or pack animals?"

"I'll be guided by you," he smiled, standing and taking her outstretched hand in his. Maybe this would work out after all.

"You had all your shots? You have your malaria tablets with you? I don't want a sick archaeologist on my hands half way up a mountain."

It suddenly seemed eminently funny to Daniel that someone outside of the SGC was monitoring him. He had become so used to Jack surreptitiously checking his backpack over to see that he had packed what the military considered essential, and Janet making sure he had his antihistamines with him, that it hardly seemed possible he could set off on this journey without someone doing a checklist.

Unaccustomed laughter lit his voice as he replied, "Yes, mother. And I have clean underwear just in case… Ah, sorry, that wasn't really appropriate was it?"

Victoria's eyes were stern as they raked his face. "The jungle is no laughing matter, Doctor Jackson. I'm not hired out as a nursemaid, I'm your guide. I'll get you there and back, and in one piece, but I expect you to take basic precautions. I'll see you first thing in the morning, Doctor."

"Call me Daniel," he said plaintively to her retreating back.

***

The path ahead of him was dark and foreboding, behind him lay some nameless terror. In his hand a P90 rested heavily against his chest, the strap around his shoulder digging in deeply. Something was coming up behind him. He began to run toward the darkness ahead calling for the rest of the team, footsteps echoing all around, and then something touched him. He turned, finger squeezing the trigger just the way Jack had shown him. Screams thundered in his head, rattling around his skull until he thought his ears would bleed. Blood spattered across his face, blinding him and he thought he heard the faint sound of a familiar voice crying out for mercy.

Swearing long and hard, Daniel untangled his sweat soaked body from the sheets, and sat on the edge of the hotel bed. It was still early yet, not five o'clock. Picking up the robe his room had come with he wrapped it around his now shivering body. You would think a five star hotel could ensure a demon free night.

The balcony faced the sea, and in the distance he could hear the soft swoosh of water against sand. On the horizon, a faint glow heralded the day. Why now, and why tonight? Ever since General Hammond had agreed to his leave, the nightmares had taken a back seat. Yes, he had had some mild attacks, but nothing like the panic that had forced him awake tonight. 'God, I hope I don't talk in my sleep' he muttered to the view.

The shivers had calmed now, the warmth of his robe and the wakening of his brain combining to push back the night terrors. Maybe he should have talked to Janet after all. Well, it was too late now.

Daniel used the extra time to sort out his backpack. Years of digs in out of the way places meant he could pack an awful lot of stuff into a very small space. The first time Jack had checked over his pack the older man had been surprised, first by what Daniel had considered essential, and secondly at how he had crammed it all in. 'Archaeology doesn't happen in cities very often' he had explained; you learned to pack the hard way. So, spare lightweight trousers, socks, shirts and underwear were rolled tightly and stuffed into the large haversack. A fleece scrunched down the other side, and then his box of tools was perched on top. The box had been part of his parents travelling gear, consisting of tiny chisel, hammer, scrapers and brushes. They had gone with him on every dig, the box small enough to slip into a wide pocket, or the flowing robes of Abydos. The bumping of that small wooden box against his leg had somehow kept him grounded when he stumbled back through the gate that first time. He checked the catch once more, then tucked it under the clothing and tightened the straps.

From the SGC he had borrowed the heavy-duty footwear that was standard issue, his own lightweight boots from his Egyptian digs would not stand up to the rigours of a jungle trek. Finally he slipped the slender volumes of Nick's notes into various pockets of his jacket for reference.

Promptly at eight, Victoria Ramirez entered the lobby. That morning she seemed somehow smaller. Gone were the high-heeled sandals, her long legs hidden under lightweight trousers tucked into sturdy boots. Yesterday's mane of uncontrolled hair was now cinched back into a severe ponytail that highlighted her high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes. Without her make up she seemed younger still and doubt gripped him. She stood a good six inches shorter than he; something her heels had diminished the afternoon before. For all her petiteness and apparent fragility, she grabbed his bag quickly, carrying it out to the four-wheel drive with ease.

As they sped down one of the few paved roads in the country, his guide spoke of her grandfather's journals. It appeared that he had been gripped by Nick's assertions that he had seen aliens. He hadn't believed that the old man had seen beings from another planet though, but the spirits of their ancestors of old.

"Vick and your grandfather quartered the area over six years, Doctor Jackson. Each season they came back with nothing but disappointment. What makes you think we are going to do any better?"

"I don't know that we will, but that isn't going to stop me trying. Aren't you at all fascinated by what they discovered?"

"You mean the crystal skull? There have been many found, Doctor Jackson, what makes this one so special?"

They had arrived at the supply depot, their last stop before heading into the green jungle that edged close to the suddenly non-existent road. Daniel used the movement from car to road to avoid answering the question. Victoria had slid out of her seat to negotiate with the vendor. He listened closely to the dialect she used, Cholti maybe? Her words too rapid for him to follow. He would have to ask her to teach him the basics. Many of the written artefacts he had studied years ago had used Cholti as their basis, though the stylised and convoluted system the Maya used was only just being understood.

"Right, I have hired two porters to bring supplies to our base camp, they will return in two weeks time to supplement our rations. It should only take two days to reach the area our grandfathers explored."

Two sturdy looking men of indeterminate age had joined them in the roadway. On their backs were huge packs, two more lay at their feet. Vicky made a grab for one of them and Daniel went quickly to help her fix it to her back, then she unloaded her own small pack from the car, attaching it to the straps that criss-crossed her front. Daniel did the same, the weight almost pulling him over until he found the right balance. Years of trekking across alien soil had hardened his body and toned muscles that had been unnecessary during his former years. He shrugged the packs into position, settling them against his body. Looking up, he caught the intense hazel gaze of his companion, she nodded slightly, as though in approval and surprise.

Vicky set off at a tidy pace; small though she was, she strode out ahead of the small group with assurance and a seemingly endless energy. Behind them, the two porters kept up with difficulty. The pace she set precluded talk, all his oxygen being required to keep his heart pumping enough to maintain putting one foot in front of the other. Her words as they started the trek seemed to echo around in his head as he scanned the path to either side of them.

"When you have to divert from the tracks, for whatever reason, keep your eyes open. Most of the insects and small predators will run from us, others won't. There are snakes and spiders out there that you don't want to mess with, so be careful."

"Spiders?" Daniel had asked. He didn't like spiders.

"Biggest you'll see out here are the tarantulas, about the size of a rat. If you don't disturb them they won't bother you."

"Oh. Well, that's comforting, I guess," he had murmured, thankful that he had tucked his trousers into the tops of his heavy-duty boots.

With an hour of daylight left they set up camp in what looked like the remains of a small shrine. Only a few tumbled blocks remained, the carvings barely legible in the gathering gloom, but Daniel felt drawn to them. He was determined to look them over before they left in the morning. Vicky had vocalised no interest in them and yet he sensed she knew something about the shrine that she was not telling him.

The meal that night was basic, but no worse than he had endured on endless missions. The two porters had removed themselves to their own little camp some hundred yards away, both men had seemed uncomfortable with the area Vicky had chosen.

"You've been to this place before?" Daniel questioned from his seat opposite her across the fire. "The porters seem a little uncomfortable here."

Hazel eyes met his with something like defiance. "Superstition runs rife in my country, Doctor Jackson. This shrine was once used by my ancestors to honour the gods."

"You're saying they made human sacrifices here?" He could understand the unease that would arise among the natives if that were the legend. "How do you know that?"

"Not human sacrifices. Not here at least. It was maybe ten years ago that this place was finally given over to the jungle."

"All this destruction in one decade?" Daniel's voice seemed hushed in the night air. Green had claimed the ashen coloured stones, burying them under an almost impenetrable layer of creepers and debris.

Vicky shrugged, "The jungle wipes clean the mistakes of the past. Another ten years and this place will not remain."

"You think the temple we are searching for is lost, don't you?"

"Perhaps," his guide said quietly.

Daylight woke him early, but still he was last to rise. Thankful that the dreams had not appeared during the night, Daniel felt rested and relaxed in a way that had eluded him for the last few weeks. Even with the hard ground under his now aching back, he felt better than he had done for the past month.

He rolled over, sitting up and stretching to the sound of voices murmuring close by. Metal against metal clanged behind him as breakfast was being prepared. He surged to his feet and stepped away from the camp, Vicky's warning making his every move a cautious one. Call of nature or not, he was not going to expose any part of himself to the unknown until he had thoroughly checked out the deep green foliage. Under his feet something scuttled away into the darkness and he felt his flesh crawl at the image of rat-sized spiders lurking in the undergrowth.

An hour later they were on their way. Vicky had vetoed the idea of spending time investigating the ruins, arguing that there were more interesting sites along the way if he wanted to waste time on places that had already been excavated. With a long look he turned and followed her further into the depths of the jungle, noting the increasing angle under his feet as they began the slow climb into the foothills. All along their route tempting edifices beckoned to him from either side. At each half-begun entreaty Vicky had shaken her head and moved them on, harder and faster. By half way through the day, Daniel had become aware of the unease of the porters. When they broke for lunch he tackled Vicky about the wary looks and whispered confidences that he could sense behind him. She shrugged, made a dismissive gesture and picked up her pack to continue on.

That afternoon a chill wind blew down the path from above, and with it came the soft sound of leaves rattling against one another, almost sounding like whispers on the breeze. Daniel was lost in thought, not taking note of anything except to put one foot in front of the other until he heard the clatter of packs being dropped and footsteps fading into the distance behind him. His head shot up and around in time to see the backs of the two porters disappearing back down the trail they had made that day.

"What the?!" He turned his attention to Vicky, who stood rigid with anger.

"Superstitious imbeciles," she hissed under her breath, then turned her attention to her patron who was standing looking with some confusion at the woman in front of him.

"What was that about what superstition? I think it's about time you and I had a little chat, don't you?"

"Follow me," Vicky replied, hauling up the extra packs. "I'll show you."

Daniel moved up beside her, forcibly removing the heavier pack from where she had slung it over her shoulder, and garnering a dark look for his pains.

Five minutes of tense silence later and the two stopped in front of a clearing that encompassed the impressive remains of a large temple. Daniel's packs were quickly shed as he moved forward eagerly to touch the stones. His fingers ran lightly over the worn surfaces, tracing the deeply indented pictograms. Under his light caress he could almost feel the life within the carvings. He drew a deep breath and let his heart sing with the knowledge that this could still move him.

"My god, look at this! It's bigger than the relief at Palenque. I thought all the major sites were documented but I haven't seen this in any journal. Even the colours are almost visible." His eyes scanned the huge façade, picking out the coloured corners indicating the four compass points. Only the black for west remained in full, the softer colours, white, yellow and red had dulled to barely perceptible ghostings. His gaze came to rest on the almost invisible blue green circle at the centre of the carving then he was moving further along the wall, following it round to the inner portion. Vicky, the porters, the SGC, all was banished from his mind at that moment as history took him in its embrace and welcomed him home. The moment he had been dreading, coming face to face with the past and finding it held no allure, had been passed and forgotten the moment he had set eyes on the relief.

Finally finishing his superficial search of the temple ruins Daniel, his head still reeling with the images he had seen, came back to where his guide stood waiting. Her face was inscrutable, as though he had somehow surprised and puzzled her all at once. Checking his racing enthusiasm, he raised his eyebrows in question.

Nodding, Vicky motioned him to sit while they talked.

"These remains are not widely known, Doctor Jackson, and those of us who do know of its location will keep it secret. It is not a good place."

"The porters, they knew of the temple before we set out?"

"No," Vicky's ponytail flicked lightly as she shook her head. "If I had told them that we had to pass this place I wouldn't have found anyone to come with us. My people, Doctor Jackson, are more aware of the past than westerners give us credit for."

Leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees as he sat cross-legged, Daniel indicated his interest.

Hazel eyes contemplated slim fingers, as Vicky seemed to muse over what to say and what to hold back.

"Don't judge my openness to the unknown, Vicky. I can believe all kinds of things. Remember you are talking to the man who proposed the pyramids were built by aliens." He hesitated for a moment, then added with a wry smile, "But don't let that put you off either."

"You're a strange man, Doctor Jackson."

"Daniel," he encouraged for the millionth time, his response to the title almost Pavlovian now.

Her eyes were on his, searching for something that he could only hope she would find. And then she was leaning forward too, unconsciously mimicking his pose.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" she asked, then continued, not waiting for his answer. "The Maya hold to the belief that our ancestors are with us every day, influencing our lives for good or bad. This place… this place holds many memories." Her voice had softened to a mere whisper as her eyes moved from carving to carving.

"But you are not afraid of this place… are you?"

"I hadn't intended for us to be here at night," she replied. "We should have passed by this place and been at our base camp, now we have to stay here." Her answer no answer at all to his question. Then she was on her feet, and heading purposefully into the very centre of the ruins.

Daniel scrambled to his feet and moved to her side. The central steps had been all but destroyed; their blocks scattered around the area as though struck down from above. One large block, tumbled to its side, still made its presence felt by its sheer size alone.

"Touch it," Vicky demanded, quietly.

With a confused look, Daniel moved closer, his hand reaching out to the stone block. As his fingers came to rest on its rough surface a tingle of awareness seemed to skitter across his nerves. A shiver passed through him, a wave of revulsion that started in his stomach and threatened his control. He snatched back his hand and turned to where Vicky watched him. Had he really felt that or was it some kind of autosuggestion at work?

"You asked about human sacrifices, Doctor Jackson. That," she pointed to the stone, "is the legacy my forefathers left us."

His eyes scoured the stone again in more detail. Walking around it, the dying sunlight seemed to highlight the deep grooves in the far side and an oval depression at the top. Channels for the blood of the Mayan victims? Was it his imagination or were there still stains on the uneven surface?

The temple was in remarkable condition; creepers had barely stolen over a quarter of the standing stones, and nothing within the central plaza was damaged except for the edifice where this huge stone would have sat.

"Do you know what destroyed this?" Daniel queried, now making his way through the scattered blocks that had once raised high into the sky.

Vicky's quiet reply almost passed him by. "Legend has it that the Gods took exception to our ancestor's lack of fealty. That they were unhappy with the sacrifices being made and decided to make an example of this tribe, so that all others would know how powerful their gods were, and how much they were to be feared."

The light was beginning to fade now, and a chill wind rustled the surrounding trees. A bright flash of colour soared past the clearing, catching Daniel's eye. He hadn't expected parrots here, and, now that he thought about it, that was the first sign of jungle life that he had spotted since their arrival at this temple. Quiet settled around them, not even the rustle of an insect disturbed the total silence.

Vicky moved to her pack and took out a sweater. The nights could get chilly even in the dry season, and the altitude added to the cold. "We don't have time to go any further tonight; I suggest we set up camp."

Daniel didn't miss the slight hint of defiance in her voice. She was not okay with being within the temple walls, for all her bravado.

"Here?"

"Why not? There is a stream about half a kilometre up the trail, I'll fetch some clean water and we can renew the packs tomorrow when we move on."

He turned to look at the huge walls around him, the strange depictions disappearing into the shadows, and knew that he didn't want to go any further. Not until he had had time to document at least some of this massive find. Nick's fallen temple could wait a few more days. It probably wouldn't be possible to excavate it anyway.

It took them very little time to set up camp. Daniel had followed Vicky up to the stream, so that he could find it for himself later. The water was fresh and clean, bitterly cold on his sensitive teeth.

After they had eaten they exchanged notebooks. Vicky had thought to bring her grandfather's notes with her, and Daniel had secreted Nick's in his pockets. Firelight made a poor reading lamp, but the text gripped him as he translated from the Spanish it had been written in.

An hour later, each had finished the first of their respective grandparent's journals.

The leather bound diary of Victor Ramirez sat heavily in Daniel's hands. "Well that was interesting. Were they even on the same expedition?"

Vicky looked up from Nick's journal, her face picturing her puzzlement. "I don't understand it. Vick doesn't even mention this temple," she indicated their surroundings. "Neither does Nick Ballard. There is no other way to reach the area they both agree is where the temple you seek was located. And Nick doesn't mention any of the landmarks that Vick reported. This stele that he mentions finding in the first week, that is miles away from this area."

"And your grandfather doesn't even note it. What were they trying to hide?" Daniel's puzzlement had only grown as he read Vick's notebook. He had committed to memory the directions within Nick's journals, but they did not tally with anything that Victor had written down. One of the old men was lying, but whom? Nick was a million light years away and inaccessible and Vick was dead.

"What do we do now?" Vicky's question dragged him back to the fire-lit campsite. "Which trail do we follow?"

"I wish I knew."

Neither slept well that night. Daniel, tossing and turning, woke at least a dozen times during that uncomfortable darkness. Each time he opened his eyes, he was aware of Vicky's equally restless slumber. A couple of times he thought he caught a murmured cry from her; perhaps she too suffered from the unpleasant atmosphere that lived within these ancient walls. He knew that his own dreams were full of the sounds of terrified screams as one victim after another was bent backward over the sacrificial stone, while their beating heart was pulled from their chest. He wasn't sure it was a more agreeable substitute for the nightmares that had brought him here in the first place. For once he damned his too detailed knowledge of an ancient belief system.

Daylight brought some relief from the oppressive atmosphere. Tiredness hung around them both as they made coffee and a small breakfast. Silence continued between them until Daniel, sufficiently stoked with caffeine, made his way back to the wall that had fascinated him the day before.

"It's the story of the Hero Twin's journey to Xibalba, the trials they suffered and their eventual death."

Daniel hadn't heard Vicky come up behind him. He was focussed entirely on the pictograms etched deeply into the stones. His knowledge of the Mayan culture was he admitted freely, limited. But the story of Lady Blood's sons, Hunahpu and Xbalanque, was well known to him. He followed her fingers as she pointed out the story progression, her understanding of the glyphs a delight. It had been so long since he had been able to share a find with anyone who understood his specialised subject. They moved on to another panel, this one seemed to list a huge amount of Mayan deities. Itzamna, Ahaw K'in, K'awil, Ek' Chuah, Chak Chel, she knew them all, some of them he had not been aware of.

"You've studied this relief before?"

His guide turned away from the wall and looked out into the barely penetrable jungle. "No. This is the first time I have stopped at this temple. But there are many just like it, scattered throughout the jungle, Doctor Jackson."

"I doubt quite like this one," Daniel replied as his eyes caught an almost concealed glyph. Pulling away the tangled creepers from around the base of the wall, he revealed a stone that was totally different to any other he had yet seen. The plain block had a strange pinkish hue that tickled his memories, and carved lightly on its surface was a glyph that seemed almost familiar to him, yet he was sure he had not seen it before.