Useless Knowledge
by Layton Colt
"Ed . . ." I hear Daniel whisper.
Ed? I look back to the burly guy glaring down at us. He doesn't look like an 'Ed'. He looks more like a . . . well he looks like a big ugly guy.
"I told you what I would do to you should you ever return, Dr. Jackson," the man Daniel called 'Ed' sneers.
I thought Daniel didn't get out much the last time he was here?
"Ah, Daniel," I say conversationally. Best not to lose my temper in situations like this. Losing my temper was what always *got* me into situations like this. "Who is this joker?"
Big ugly guy turns his attention to me now and steps closer to the bars. O- kay . . . why don't we change his name to big ugly *smelly* guy.
"Who are you?"
"Colonel Jack O'Neill," I told him. "Who the hell are you?"
"I am Doctor Eduardo Garcia. You are with the United States military?"
I nod and Garcia stiffens. He turns his attention back to Daniel.
"Working with the military again, Dr. Jackson? Tell me, what is it you've come to steal this time?"
This time? Working with the military again? When did he work with the military before?
"Doctor Garcia," Daniel says calmly. "I haven't come to steal anything. Doctor Isabella Molina contacted me and asked me for my help. You can contact her if you'd like."
"What, and allow her to come bail you out? Doctor Jackson, that would not work to my advantage at all. As it is I've got you right where I want you."
"Daniel," I cut in. "What the hell is this guy talking about? I thought you said the last time you were here you were on a college dig?"
"Don't play ignorant with me," Garcia snaps at me. "You know very well what Dr. Jackson was doing the last time he was here. It was the military, after all, that had recruited him."
"Look, I don't know what the hell is going on here, or what you think we've done, but I haven't ever been here before. And Daniel was telling the truth, we just came to assist Doctor Molina with her dig."
"What assistance could a Colonel provide on an archeology dig?"
He had me there.
"I just came along to make sure Daniel didn't run into trouble." And I'm doing so very well at it too.
Garcia smiles, revealing plaque covered teeth. "A likely excuse," he says. "I know what you people are doing. You are here to steal our history from us! I won't allow it. If it were not for Dr. Jackson's rare abilities with languages I would simply have you both quietly disposed of."
Wow-there! Quietly disposed of? I think this guy has read one too many crime fiction novels.
"Doctor Garcia," Daniel says, using that calm voice again. I can tell he's nervous but I'm not sure about what. This guy doesn't scare him, of that I'm sure. Daniel has faced down *gods*. So what was he scared of? "Please just allow us to use a phone, we could--"
"Contact your people and have them come rescue you?" Garcia finishes harshly. "No, I don't think so, Doctor Jackson. I have other plans for you."
"What kind of plans?" I demand.
Garcia ignores me. He keeps his eyes focused on Daniel, and pretends that I don't exist. Just wait until there aren't any bars between us . . . I'll make sure he takes notice then.
"You're going to tell me what you stole from me all those years ago, Doctor Jackson. Or your friend and yourself are going to spend the remainder of your lives in this cell."
Daniel jumps to his feet, "You can't do that!"
Garcia smiles, his oily little smile that I was beginning to hate. "I own this city, Dr. Jackson. I thought you had learned that after our first encounter. I can do whatever I want."
Garcia snaps his fingers and two guards come up behind him, he tells them something in Spanish and then turns and leaves.
"What did he say?" I've got a lot of questions about this whole thing. But first things first. I want to make sure Garcia didn't just order us to be 'quietly disposed of'.
"He ordered the guards to take us to the interrogation room," Daniel tells me. He still looks kind of pale. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell is going on. "And then he told them to use brutal force if we didn't go quietly."
Oh, this is so not good.
The guards open the cell door and pull us out. The drunk and the mugger yell things after us as we we're escorted away. I didn't ask Daniel for a translation. I didn't want to know.
The room we were thrown in use to be painted maroon. I say use to be because all that's left of it is your occasional paint chip clinging valiantly to the stone surface.
I sat down in one of the chairs and look over at Daniel. He averts his eyes.
I look around the room. There are no mirrors for people to be watching us from the other side. I looked under the table, no bugs. The technological kind, I mean. There were plenty of roaches.
"So . . ." I begin. It's all I have to say. Daniel knows what I'm asking. It's up to him whether or not he answers.
You can't force Daniel to tell you things. Not about anything. Something good ole' Ed will be learning very shortly.
"It was a long time ago . . ." Daniel says evasively.
And that tells me absolutely nothing. I want to shout 'what was a long time ago?' but that would be a mistake. Daniel would give me a reproachful look, and I'd never learn anything. So I just sit quietly, prompting him to continue with my eyes.
"I don't think I should say much here," he says, casting a paranoid glance around the small room. "But I wasn't exactly on a college dig last time I was here . . . I mean, I was in college but I was here with the military."
I nod for him to continue. And I try not to show how shocked I am. I mean when I first met the guy, I could have sworn that that was his first time *ever* dealing with the military. To have called him socially inept back then would have been the understatement of the year.
"And Doctor Garcia was telling the truth . . . we did kind of steal something from him."
"What?" I couldn't help it. The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. And there was the reproachful look. Luckily for me, Daniel kept talking despite my interruption.
"Well, it isn't like we didn't have our reasons . . ." he defends himself. And I *still* have no idea what he's talking about. "We did the right thing, Doctor Garcia just couldn't understand that and he got a little . . . upset . . ."
"Right. How upset? What exactly was he it he warned you he'd do if you came back?"
"Loosely translated? He told me he'd cut out my heart and make me eat it, he was exaggerating I'm sure."
Christ. How can he say things like that with all the emotion of someone reading the 'Wall Street Journal'?
I want to keep pressing Daniel for information but Garcia enters the room before I get the chance.
He looks at us with the same kind of disdain I used when examining the roaches moments earlier. I don't think he likes us very much. The feelings mutual.
"I want you to tell me what you took, Dr. Jackson. It would be in your best interest to cooperate."
Daniel turns slowly to face Dr. Garcia. Unlike earlier, he's now completely controlled. Daniel has learned over the years how to put up a good front. "I'm sorry," Daniel says. "But that information is classified, if you'd like, I can help you get in touch with a General Hammond. I'm sure he'd be happy to explain why we can't tell you what you want to know, and why it's extremely stupid to threaten us."
Garcia's eyes narrow. "You will not be leaving until you tell me what I want to know."
"Our friends know where we are, Garcia. They'll be looking for us when we don't contact them. You don't want them to find out you've held us prisoner, they won't be happy,"
I sit back in my seat, content to let Daniel do the talking. He seems to know all the right things to say to press this guy's buttons. I have taught him well.
"What I am doing is perfectly legal, Dr. Jackson, I assure you. You and your associate were involved in a brawl, I can hold you for twenty four hours."
"And what will you do when in twenty four hours you still don't have your answers."
"I will find other ways to . . . persuade you . . ."
Daniel smiled, "Really? Is that legal too?"
Garcia frowns angrily at Daniel, and I was beginning to think I should interfere. Maybe I've taught Daniel a little too well. "All you need to do is answer the question, Dr. Jackson. What did you take from me?"
I can't say I'm not wondering about that myself. But I get the feeling telling *this* guy would not be a good idea.
"This is going to get old real fast, Garcia," Daniel says smartly. "You asking me a question, me telling you to go to hell . . . there has to be a more civilized way to go about this."
Carter was right. Daniel does get more and more like me everyday. And I couldn't be prouder of him.
"Why must you be so difficult, Dr. Jackson? I mean really, I don't remember you being so rude."
Yep, I really am a bad influence on Daniel. He used to be such a sweet boy.
Like I said, I couldn't be prouder.
"You think I'm being rude?" Daniel asks with feigned disbelief. "Garcia, you're the one who is being a neglecting host. Would you believe that since we got here we haven't been offered any refreshments?"
Garcia is just short of having steam come out of his ears. Time to draw the attention away from Daniel.
"Don't you think it's time to just forgive and forgot?" I ask. "I mean this was what, ten years ago? I don't think holding a grudge that long can be healthy."
Garcia's beady little eyes slip in my direction. Yep, definitely got his mind off Daniel. He does not look happy with me.
"You Americans are all so disrespectful," he says in disgust. "You will learn respect. And you," he declares turning to Daniel and pointing at him, "will tell me what I want to know."
Garcia turned around and stormed from the room. We could hear a lock click after he had shut the door.
"So, Daniel," I ask quietly. He looks inquiringly in my direction. "Just what the hell did you take, anyway?"
to be continued . . .
by Layton Colt
"Ed . . ." I hear Daniel whisper.
Ed? I look back to the burly guy glaring down at us. He doesn't look like an 'Ed'. He looks more like a . . . well he looks like a big ugly guy.
"I told you what I would do to you should you ever return, Dr. Jackson," the man Daniel called 'Ed' sneers.
I thought Daniel didn't get out much the last time he was here?
"Ah, Daniel," I say conversationally. Best not to lose my temper in situations like this. Losing my temper was what always *got* me into situations like this. "Who is this joker?"
Big ugly guy turns his attention to me now and steps closer to the bars. O- kay . . . why don't we change his name to big ugly *smelly* guy.
"Who are you?"
"Colonel Jack O'Neill," I told him. "Who the hell are you?"
"I am Doctor Eduardo Garcia. You are with the United States military?"
I nod and Garcia stiffens. He turns his attention back to Daniel.
"Working with the military again, Dr. Jackson? Tell me, what is it you've come to steal this time?"
This time? Working with the military again? When did he work with the military before?
"Doctor Garcia," Daniel says calmly. "I haven't come to steal anything. Doctor Isabella Molina contacted me and asked me for my help. You can contact her if you'd like."
"What, and allow her to come bail you out? Doctor Jackson, that would not work to my advantage at all. As it is I've got you right where I want you."
"Daniel," I cut in. "What the hell is this guy talking about? I thought you said the last time you were here you were on a college dig?"
"Don't play ignorant with me," Garcia snaps at me. "You know very well what Dr. Jackson was doing the last time he was here. It was the military, after all, that had recruited him."
"Look, I don't know what the hell is going on here, or what you think we've done, but I haven't ever been here before. And Daniel was telling the truth, we just came to assist Doctor Molina with her dig."
"What assistance could a Colonel provide on an archeology dig?"
He had me there.
"I just came along to make sure Daniel didn't run into trouble." And I'm doing so very well at it too.
Garcia smiles, revealing plaque covered teeth. "A likely excuse," he says. "I know what you people are doing. You are here to steal our history from us! I won't allow it. If it were not for Dr. Jackson's rare abilities with languages I would simply have you both quietly disposed of."
Wow-there! Quietly disposed of? I think this guy has read one too many crime fiction novels.
"Doctor Garcia," Daniel says, using that calm voice again. I can tell he's nervous but I'm not sure about what. This guy doesn't scare him, of that I'm sure. Daniel has faced down *gods*. So what was he scared of? "Please just allow us to use a phone, we could--"
"Contact your people and have them come rescue you?" Garcia finishes harshly. "No, I don't think so, Doctor Jackson. I have other plans for you."
"What kind of plans?" I demand.
Garcia ignores me. He keeps his eyes focused on Daniel, and pretends that I don't exist. Just wait until there aren't any bars between us . . . I'll make sure he takes notice then.
"You're going to tell me what you stole from me all those years ago, Doctor Jackson. Or your friend and yourself are going to spend the remainder of your lives in this cell."
Daniel jumps to his feet, "You can't do that!"
Garcia smiles, his oily little smile that I was beginning to hate. "I own this city, Dr. Jackson. I thought you had learned that after our first encounter. I can do whatever I want."
Garcia snaps his fingers and two guards come up behind him, he tells them something in Spanish and then turns and leaves.
"What did he say?" I've got a lot of questions about this whole thing. But first things first. I want to make sure Garcia didn't just order us to be 'quietly disposed of'.
"He ordered the guards to take us to the interrogation room," Daniel tells me. He still looks kind of pale. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell is going on. "And then he told them to use brutal force if we didn't go quietly."
Oh, this is so not good.
The guards open the cell door and pull us out. The drunk and the mugger yell things after us as we we're escorted away. I didn't ask Daniel for a translation. I didn't want to know.
The room we were thrown in use to be painted maroon. I say use to be because all that's left of it is your occasional paint chip clinging valiantly to the stone surface.
I sat down in one of the chairs and look over at Daniel. He averts his eyes.
I look around the room. There are no mirrors for people to be watching us from the other side. I looked under the table, no bugs. The technological kind, I mean. There were plenty of roaches.
"So . . ." I begin. It's all I have to say. Daniel knows what I'm asking. It's up to him whether or not he answers.
You can't force Daniel to tell you things. Not about anything. Something good ole' Ed will be learning very shortly.
"It was a long time ago . . ." Daniel says evasively.
And that tells me absolutely nothing. I want to shout 'what was a long time ago?' but that would be a mistake. Daniel would give me a reproachful look, and I'd never learn anything. So I just sit quietly, prompting him to continue with my eyes.
"I don't think I should say much here," he says, casting a paranoid glance around the small room. "But I wasn't exactly on a college dig last time I was here . . . I mean, I was in college but I was here with the military."
I nod for him to continue. And I try not to show how shocked I am. I mean when I first met the guy, I could have sworn that that was his first time *ever* dealing with the military. To have called him socially inept back then would have been the understatement of the year.
"And Doctor Garcia was telling the truth . . . we did kind of steal something from him."
"What?" I couldn't help it. The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. And there was the reproachful look. Luckily for me, Daniel kept talking despite my interruption.
"Well, it isn't like we didn't have our reasons . . ." he defends himself. And I *still* have no idea what he's talking about. "We did the right thing, Doctor Garcia just couldn't understand that and he got a little . . . upset . . ."
"Right. How upset? What exactly was he it he warned you he'd do if you came back?"
"Loosely translated? He told me he'd cut out my heart and make me eat it, he was exaggerating I'm sure."
Christ. How can he say things like that with all the emotion of someone reading the 'Wall Street Journal'?
I want to keep pressing Daniel for information but Garcia enters the room before I get the chance.
He looks at us with the same kind of disdain I used when examining the roaches moments earlier. I don't think he likes us very much. The feelings mutual.
"I want you to tell me what you took, Dr. Jackson. It would be in your best interest to cooperate."
Daniel turns slowly to face Dr. Garcia. Unlike earlier, he's now completely controlled. Daniel has learned over the years how to put up a good front. "I'm sorry," Daniel says. "But that information is classified, if you'd like, I can help you get in touch with a General Hammond. I'm sure he'd be happy to explain why we can't tell you what you want to know, and why it's extremely stupid to threaten us."
Garcia's eyes narrow. "You will not be leaving until you tell me what I want to know."
"Our friends know where we are, Garcia. They'll be looking for us when we don't contact them. You don't want them to find out you've held us prisoner, they won't be happy,"
I sit back in my seat, content to let Daniel do the talking. He seems to know all the right things to say to press this guy's buttons. I have taught him well.
"What I am doing is perfectly legal, Dr. Jackson, I assure you. You and your associate were involved in a brawl, I can hold you for twenty four hours."
"And what will you do when in twenty four hours you still don't have your answers."
"I will find other ways to . . . persuade you . . ."
Daniel smiled, "Really? Is that legal too?"
Garcia frowns angrily at Daniel, and I was beginning to think I should interfere. Maybe I've taught Daniel a little too well. "All you need to do is answer the question, Dr. Jackson. What did you take from me?"
I can't say I'm not wondering about that myself. But I get the feeling telling *this* guy would not be a good idea.
"This is going to get old real fast, Garcia," Daniel says smartly. "You asking me a question, me telling you to go to hell . . . there has to be a more civilized way to go about this."
Carter was right. Daniel does get more and more like me everyday. And I couldn't be prouder of him.
"Why must you be so difficult, Dr. Jackson? I mean really, I don't remember you being so rude."
Yep, I really am a bad influence on Daniel. He used to be such a sweet boy.
Like I said, I couldn't be prouder.
"You think I'm being rude?" Daniel asks with feigned disbelief. "Garcia, you're the one who is being a neglecting host. Would you believe that since we got here we haven't been offered any refreshments?"
Garcia is just short of having steam come out of his ears. Time to draw the attention away from Daniel.
"Don't you think it's time to just forgive and forgot?" I ask. "I mean this was what, ten years ago? I don't think holding a grudge that long can be healthy."
Garcia's beady little eyes slip in my direction. Yep, definitely got his mind off Daniel. He does not look happy with me.
"You Americans are all so disrespectful," he says in disgust. "You will learn respect. And you," he declares turning to Daniel and pointing at him, "will tell me what I want to know."
Garcia turned around and stormed from the room. We could hear a lock click after he had shut the door.
"So, Daniel," I ask quietly. He looks inquiringly in my direction. "Just what the hell did you take, anyway?"
to be continued . . .